Wp'j^ 


FROM -THE- LIBRARY- OF- 
A,  W,   Ryder 


Julian  Shooting  at  Bridgenorth 

Drawn  by  F.  Dadd,  R.  I.  —Etched  by  W.  W.  Nooth 


Xllu6trated  Sterling  6dition 


Peveril  of  the  Peak 


QUENTIN    DURWARD 


BY 
SIR   WALTER   SCOTT,    BART. 


' »  *     '  ^  >  J   J  ^  i  ^  > '  i  J  * 


BOSTON 
DANA  ESTES  &  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


0 


>«     ••-••« 


•  J  • 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


PEVERIL   OF    THE   PEAK 

PAOB 

Julian  Shooting  at  Bridgenorth     ,         .         .         Frontispiece 

Miss  Alice  Bridgenorth 63 

"  He  beheld  beside  him  the  little  dumb  maiden,  the 

ELFIN    FenELLA  " 198 

"  Julian  fired  at  the  head   of   the    person  by  whom 

he  was  assailed  "  .......     265 

"  The      PARTING      WAS      not     WITHOUT      EMOTION      ON      BOTH 

SIDES  " 421 


QUENTIN    DURWARD 
"'And  now,*  he  said,  <  come  on,  if  you  dare*"    .        .      64 

QUENTIN    DuRWARD 102 

"  The   Duke   .    .   .   kneeling  on  one  knee,   offered  to 

HOLD    THE    stirrup" 293 

"'He  should  succeed  to  the  stools,  as  part  of 

THEIR   movable    ESTATE*** 312 


ivi29089 


INTRODUCTION  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 


If  I  had  valued  my  own  reputation,  as  it  is  said  I  ought  in 
prudence  to  have  done,  I  might  have  now  drawn  a  line,  and 
remained  for  life,  or  (who  knows  ? )  perhaps  for  some  years 
after  death,  the  ingenious  author  of  Waverley.  I  was  not, 
however,  more  desirous  of  this  sort  of  immortality,  which 
might  have  lasted  some  twenty  or  thirty  years,  than  Falstaff 
of  the  emboweling  which  was  promised  him  after  the  field 
of  Shrewsbury,  by  his  patron  the  Prince  of  Wales.  "  Em- 
bowel'd  ?  If  you  embowel  me  to-day,  you  may  powder  and 
eat  me  to-morrow  !  " 

If  my  occupation  as  a  romancer  were  taken  from  me,  I  felt 
I  should  have  at  a  late  hour  in  life  to  find  me  out  another ; 
when  I  could  hardly  expect  to  acquire  those  new  tricks  which 
are  proverbially  said  not  to  be  learned  by  those  dogs  who  are 
getting  old.  Besides,  I  had  yet  to  learn  from  the  public  that 
my  intrusions  were  disagreeable ;  and  while  I  was  endued 
with  some  patience,  I  felt  I  had  all  the  reputation  which  I 
greatly  coveted.  My  memory  was  well  stored,  both  with 
historical,  local,  and  traditional  notices,  and  I  had  become 
almost  as  licensed  a  plague  to  the  public  as  the  well-remem- 
bered beggar  of  the  ward,  whom  men  distinguish  by  their 
favor,  perhaps  for  no  better  reason  than  that  they  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  giving  him  alms,  as  a  part  of  the  busi- 
ness of  their  daily  promenade.  The  general  fact  is  undeni- 
able :  all  men  grow  old,  all  men  must  wear  out ;  but  men  of 
ordinary  wisdom,  however  aware  of  the  general  fact,  are  un- 
willing to  admit  in  their  own  case  any  special  instances  of 
failure.  Indeed,  they  can  hardly  be  expected  themselves 
to  distinguish  the  effects  of  the  Archbishop  of  Granada's 
apoplexy,  and  are  not  unwilling  to  pass  over  in  their  com- 
position, as  instances  of  mere  carelessness  or  bad  luck,  what 
others  may  consider  as  symptoms  of  mortal  decay.  I  had  no 
choice  save  that  of  absolutely  laying  aside  the  pen,  the  use 
of  which  at  my  time  of  life  was  become  a  habit,  or  to  con  • 
tinue  its  vagaries,  until  the  public  should  let  me  plainly  uu- 


vl  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

derstand  they  would  no  more  of  me — a  hint  which  I  was  not 
unlikely  to  meet  with,  and  which  I  was  determined  to  take 
without  waiting  for  a  repetition.  This  hint,  that  the  reader 
may  plainly  understand  me,  I  was  determined  to  take  when 
the  publication  of  a  new  Waverley  novel  should  not  be  the 
subject  of  some  attention  in  the  literary  world.* 

An  accidental  circumstance  decided  my  choice  of  a  subject 
for  the  present  work.  It  was  now  several  years  since  my 
immediate  younger  brother,  Thomas  Scott,  already  mentioned 
in  these  notes,"}"  bad  resided  for  two  or  three  seasons  in  the 
Isle  of  Man,  and  having  access  to  the  registers  of  that  sin- 
gular territory,  had  copied  many  of  them,  which  he  subjected 
to  my  perusal.  These  papers  were  put  into  my  hands  while 
my  brother  had  thoughts  of  making  some  literary  use  of 
them,  I  do  not  well  remember  what ;  but  he  never  came  to 
any  decision  on  that  head,  and  grew  tired  of  the  task  of 
transcription.  The  papers,  I  suppose,  were  lost  in  the  course 
of  a  military  man's  life.  The  tenor  of  them,  that  is,  of  the 
most  remarkable,  remained  engraved  on  the  memory  of  the 
Author. 

The  interesting  and  romantic  story  of  William  Christian 
especially  struck  my  fancy.  I  found  the  same  individual, 
as  well  as  his  father,  particularly  noticed  in  some  memorials 
of  the  island,  preserved  by  the  Earl  of  Derby,  and  published 
in  Dr.  Peck's  Desiderata  Curiosa,  This  gentleman  was  the 
son  of  Edward,  formerly  governor  of  the  island  ;  and  William 
himself  was  afterwards  one  of  its  two  Dempsters,  or  supreme 
judges.  Both  father  and  son  embraced  the  party  of  the  isl- 
anders, and  contested  some  feudal  rights  claimed  by  the 
Earl  of  Derby  as  king  of  the  island.  When  the  earl  had  suf- 
fered death  at  Bolton-le-Moors,  Captain  Christian  placed 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  Itoundheads,  if  they  might  be  so 
called,  and  found  the  means  of  holding  communication  with 
a  fleet  sent  by  the  Parliament.  The  island  was  surrendered 
to  the  Parliament  by  the  insurgent  Manxmen.  The  high- 
Bpirited  countess  and  her  son  were  arrested  and  cast 
into  prison,  where  they  were  long  detained,  and  very  in- 
differently treated.  When  the  restoration  took  place,  the 
countess,  or  by  title  the  queen  dowager  of  the  island,  seized 
upon  William  Dhone,  or  Fair-haired  William,  as  William 
Cnristian  was  termed,  and  caused  him  to  be  tried  and  ex- 
ecuted accoj  Vmg  the  laws  of   the  island,   for  , having  de- 

■      r-.ii     »,v    I. 

*  [Se^    ockhart's  Life  of  Scott,  vol.  vii.  pp.  117-126.] 
/  rSoe  Waverley y  Introduction,  p.  xxi.J 


INTRODUCTION  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK         vii 

throned  his  liege  mistress  and  imprisoned  her  and  her  family. 
Romancers,  and  readers  of  romance,  will  generally  allow  that 
the  fate  of  Christian,  and  the  contrast  of  his  character  with 
that  of  the  high-minded  but  vindictive  Countess  of  Derby, 
famous  during  the  civil  wars  for  her  valiant  defense  of  La- 
tham House,  contained  the  essence  of  an  interesting  tale. 
I  have,  however,  dwelt  little  either  on  the  death  of  William 
Christian  or  on  the  manner  in  which  Charles  II.  viewed  that 
stretch  of  feudal  power,  and  the  heavy  fine  which  he  imposed 
upon  the  Derby  estates  for  that  stretch  of  jurisdiction  of 
which  the  countess  had  been  guilty.  Far  less  have  I  given 
any  opinion  on  the  justice  or  guilt  of  that  action,  which  is 
to  this  day  judged  of  by  the  people  of  the  island  as  they 
happen  to  be  connected  with  the  sufferer,  or  perhaps  as  they 
may  look  back  with  the  eyes  of  favor  upon  the  Cavaliers  or 
Roundheads  of  those  contentious  days.  I  do  not  conceive 
that  I  have  done  injury  to  the  memory  of  this  gentleman  or 
any  of  his  descendants  in  his  person  ;  at  the  same  time  I 
have  most  willingly  given  his  representative  an  opportunity 
of  stating  in  this  edition  of  the  Novel  what  he  thinks  neces- 
sary for  the  vindication  of  his  ancestor,  and  the  reader  will 
find  the  exposition  in  the  Notices,  for  which  Mr.  Christian 
desires  admission.*  I  could  do  no  less,  considering  the 
polite  and  gentlemanlike  manner  in  which  he  stated  feelings 
concerning  his  ancestry,  to  which  a  Scotsman  can  hardly  be 
supposed  to  be  indifferent. 

In  another  respect,  Mr.  Christian  with  justice  complains, 
that  Edward  Christian,  described  in  the  romance  as  the 
brother  of  the  gentleman  executed  in  consequence  of  the 
countess's  arbitrary  act  of  authority,  is  portrayed  as  a 
wretch  of  unbounded  depravity,  having  only  ingenuity  and 
courage  to  rescue  him  from  abhorrence,  as  well  as  hatred. 
Any  personal  allusion  was  entirely  undesigned  on  the  part 
of  the  Author.  The  Edward  Christian  of  the  tale  is  a  mere 
creature  of  the  imagination.  Commentators  have  naturally 
enough  identified  him  with  a  brother  of  Williaui  Christian, 
named  Edward,  who  died  in  prison  after  being  confined 
seven  or  eight  years  in  Peel  Castle,  in  the  year  1650.  Of 
him  I  had  no  access  to  know  anything ;  and  as  I  was  not 
aware  that  such  a  person  had  existed,  I  could  hardly  be  said 
to  have  traduced  his  character.  It  is  sufficient  for  my  justi- 
fication that  there  lived  at  the  period  of  my  story  a  person 
named  Edward  Christian,  **with  whom  connected,  or  by 

*See  Appendix  No.  1. 


vUl  WAVERLSr  NOVELS 

whom  begot,"  I  am  a  perfect  stranger,  but  who  we  know  to 
have  been  engaged  in  such  actions  as  may  imply  his  having 
been  guilty  of  anything  bad.  The  fact  is,  that  upon  the 
25th,  June  1680,  Thomas  Blood,  the  famous  crown-stealer, 
Edward  Christian,  Arthur  O'Brien,  and  others,  were  found 
guilty  of  being  concerned  in  a  conspiracy  for  taking  away 
the  life  and  character  of  the  celebrated  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham ;  but  that  this  Edward  was  the  same  with  the  brother 
of  William  Christian  is  impossible,  since  that  brother  died 
in  1650 ;  nor  would  I  have  used  his  christened  name  of 
Edward,  had  I  supposed  there  was  a  chance  of  its  being  con- 
nected with  any  existing  family.  These  genealogical  mat- 
ters are  fully  illustrated  in  the  notes  to  the  Appendix. 

I  ought  to  have  mentioned  in  the  former  editions  of  this 
romance,  that  Charlotte  de  la  Tremouille,  Countess  of 
Derby,  represented  as  a  Catholic,  was,  in  fact,  a  French 
Protestant.  For  misrepresenting  the  noble  dame  in  this 
manner,  I  have  only  Lucio's  excuse :  *'  I  spoke  according  to 
the  trick.''  In  a  story  where  the  greater  part  is  avowedly 
fiction,  the  author  is  at  liberty  to  introduce  such  variations 
from  actual  fact  as  his  plot  requires,  or  which  are  calculated 
to  enhance  it ;  in  which  predicament  the  religion  of  the 
Countess  of  Derby,  during  the  Popish  Plot,  appeared  to  fall. 
If  I  have  over-estimated  a  romancer's  privileges  and  immuni- 
ties, I  am  afraid  this  is  not  the  only,  nor  most  important, 
case  in  which  I  have  done  so.  To  speak  big  words,  the 
heroic  countess  has  far  less  grounds  for  an  action  of  scandal 
than  the  memory  of  Virgil  might  be  liable  to  for  his  post- 
humous scandal  of  Dido. 

The  character  of  Fenella,  which,  from  its  peculiarity, 
made  a  favorable  impression  on  the  public,  was  far  from 
being  original.  The  fine  sketch  of  Mignon  in  Wilkelm 
Meister's  LehrjahrOy  a  celebrated  work  from  the  pen  of 
Goethe,  gave  the  idea  of  such  a  being.  But  the  copy  will 
be  found  greatly  different  from  my  great  prototype ;  nor 
can  I  be  accused  of  borrowing  anything,  save  the  general 
idea,  from  an  author,  the  honor  of  his  own  country  and  an 
example  to  the  authors  of  other  kingdoms,  to  whom  all  must 
be  proud  to  own  an  obligation. 

Family  tradition  supplied  me  with  two  circumstances, 
which  are  somewhat  analogous  to  that  in  question.  The 
first  is  an  account  of  a  lawsuit,  taken  from  a  Scottish  report 
of  adjudged  cases,  quoted  in  Note  16,  p.  601.  The  other — 
of  which  the  editor  has  no  reason  to  doubt,  having  often 
heard  it  from  those  who  were  witnesses  of  the  fact — relates 


INTRODUCTION  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  ix 

to  the  power  of  a  female  in  keeping  a  secret,  sarcastically 
said  to  be  impossible,  even  when  that  secret  refers  to  the 
exercise  of  her  tongue. 

In  the  middle  of  the  18th  century,  a  female  wanderer  came 
to  the  door  of  Mr.  Robert  Scott,  grandfather  of  the  present 
author,  an  opulent  farmer  in  Roxburghshire,  and  made  signs 
that  she  desired  shelter  for  the  night,  which,  according  to  the 
custom  of  the  times,  was  readily  granted.  The  next  day  the 
country  was  covered  with  snow,  and  the  departure  of  the 
wanderer  was  rendered  impossible.  She  remained  for  many 
days,  her  maintenance  adding  little  to  the  expense  of  a  con- 
siderable household  ;  and  by  the  time  that  the  weather  grew 
milder,  she  had  learned  to  hold  intercourse  by  signs  with  the 
household  around  her,  and  could  intimate  to  them  that  she 
was  desirous  of  staying  where  she  was,  and  working  at  the 
wheel  and  other  employment,  to  compensate  for  her  food. 
This  was  a  compact  not  unfrequently  at  that  time,  and  the 
dumb  woman  entered  upon  her  thrift,  and  proved  a  useful 
member  of  the  patriarchal  household.  She  was  a  good  spin- 
ner, knitter,  carder,  and  so  forth,  but  her  excellence  lay  in 
attending  to  the  feeding  and  bringing  up  the  domestic 
poultry.  Her  mode  of  whistling  to  call  them  together  was 
so  peculiarly  elfish  and  shrill,  that  it  was  thought  by  those 
who  heard  it  more  like  that  of  a  fairy  than  a  human  being. 

In  this  manner  she  lived  three  or  four  years,  nor  was 
there  the  slightest  idea  entertained  in  the  family  that  she 
was  other  than  the  mute  and  deprived  person  she  had  always 
appeared.  But  in  a  moment  of  surprise  she  dropped  the 
mask  which  she  had  worn  so  long. 

It  chanced  upon  a  Sunday  that  the  whole  inhabitants  of 
the  household  were  at  church  excepting  Dumb  Lizzie,  whose 
infirmity  was  supposed  to  render  her  incapable  of  profiting 
by  divine  service,  and  who  therefore  stayed  at  home  to  take 
charge  of  the  house.  It  happened  that,  as  she  was  sitting  in 
the  kitchen,  a  mischievous  shepherd-boy,  instead  of  looking 
after  his  flock  on  the  lea,  as  was  his  duty,  slunk  into  the 
house  to  see  what  he  could  pick  up,  or  perhaps  out  of  mere 
curiosity.  Being  tempted  by  something  which  was  in  his 
eyes  a  nicety,  he  put  forth  his  hand  unseen,  as  he  conceived 
to  appropriate  it.  The  dumb  woman  came  suddenly  upon 
him,  and  in  the  sui-prise  forgot  her  part,  and  exclaimed,  in 
loud  Scotch  and  witli  distinct  articulation,  "  Ah,  you  little 
deevil's  limb  ! "  The  boy,  terrified  more  by  the  character  of 
the  person  who  rebuked  him  than  by  the  mere  circum- 
Btance  of  having  been  taken  in  the  insignificant  offense, 


a  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

fled  in  great  dismay  to  the  church,  to  carry  the  miraculows 
news  that  the  dumb  woman  had  found  her  tongue. 

The  family  returned  home  in  great  surprise,  but  found 
that  their  inmate  had  relapsed  into  her  usual  mute  condition, 
would  communicate  with  them  only  by  signs,  and  in  that 
manner  denied  positively  what  the  boy  affirmed. 

From  this  time  confidence  was  broken  betwixt  the  other 
inmates  of  the  family  and  their  dumb,  or  rather  silent, 
guest.  Traps  were  laid  for  the  supposed  impostor,  all  of 
which  she  skilfully  eluded  ;  firearms  were  often  suddenly 
discharged  near  her,  but  never  on  such  occasions  was  she 
seen  to  start.  It  seems  probable,  however,  that  Lizzie  grew 
tired  of  all  this  mistrust,  for  she  one  morning  disappeared 
as  she  came,  with^)ut  any  ceremony  of  leave-taking. 

She  was  seen,  il  is  said,  upon  the  other  side  of  the  English 
Border,  in  perfect  possession  of  her  speech.  Whether  this 
was  exactly  the  case  or  not,  my  informers  were  no  way  anx- 
ious in  inquiring,  nor  am  I  able  to  authenticate  the  fact. 
The  shepherd-boy  lived  to  be  a  man,  and  always  averted 
that  she  had  spoken  distinctly  to  him.  What  could  be  the 
woman's  reason  for  persevering  so  long  in  a  disguise  as  un- 
necessary as  it  was  severe  could  never  be  guessed,  and  was 
perhaps  the  consequence  of  a  certain  aberration  of  the  mind. 
I  can  only  add,  that  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  the  tale 
to  be  perfectly  authentic,  so  far  as  it  is  here  given,  and  it 
may  serve  to  parallel  the  supposed  case  of  Fenella. 

Abbotsford,  lat  July,  1S31. 


ym 


PREFATORY  LETTER 

FKOM 

THE  REV.  DR.  DRYASDUST  OF  YORK 

TO 

CAPTAIN  CLUTTERBUCK, 
Residing  at  Fairy  Lodge,  near  Kennaquhair,  N.B. 

Very  worthy  and  dear  Sir, 

To  your  last  letter  I  might  have  answered,  with  the 
classic,  Haud  equidein  invideo,  miror  magis.  For  though 
my  converse,  from  infancy,  has  been  with  things  of  anti- 
quity, yet  I  love  not  ghosts  or  specters  to  be  commentators 
thereon ;  and  truly  your  account  of  the  conversation  you 
held  with  our  great  parent,  in  the  crypt  or  most  intimate 
recess,  of  the  publishers  at  Edinburgh,  had  upon  me  much 
the  effect  of  the  apparition  of  Hector's  phantom  on  the 
hero  of  the  jEneid — 

Obstupui,  steteruntque  comae. 

And,  as  I  said  above,  I  repeat  that  I  wondered  at  the  vision^ 
without  envying  you  the  pleasure  of  seeing  our  great  pro- 
genitor. But  it  seems  that  he  is  now  permitted  to  show 
himself  to  his  family  more  freely  than  formerly  ;  or  that  the 
old  gentleman  is  turned  somewhat  garrulous  in  these  latter 
days ;  or,  in  short,  not  to  exhaust  your  patience  with  con- 
jectures of  the  cause,  I  also  have  seen  the  vision  of  the  Author 
of  Waverley.  I  do  not  mean  to  take  any  undue  state  on  my- 
self, when  I  observe,  that  this  interview  was  marked  with 
circumstances  in  some  degree  more  formally  complaisant 
than  those  which  attended  your  meeting  with  him  in  our 
worthy  publisher's  ;  for  yours  had  the  appearance  of  a 
fortuitous  rencontre,    whereas   mine   was   precded  by  the 

si 


xii  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

communication  of  a  large  roll  of  papers,  containing  a  new 
history,  called  Peveril  of  the  Peak. 

I  no  sooner  found  that  this  manuscript  consisted  of  a 
narrative,  running  to  the  length  of  perhaps  three  hundred  and 
thirty  pages  in  each  volume,  or  thereabouts,  than  it  instantly 
occurred  to  me  from  whom  this  boom  came  ;  and  having 
set  myself  to  peruse  the  written  sheets,  I  began  to  entertain 
strong  expectations  that  I  might,  peradventure,  next  see  the 
Author  himself. 

Again,  it  seems  to  me  a  marked  circumstance  that,  whereas 
an  inner  apartment  of  Mr.  Constable's  shop  was  thought  a 
place  of  sufficient  solemnity  for  your  audience,  our  vener- 
able senior  was  pleased  to  afford  mine  in  the  recesses  of  my 
own  lodgings,  intra  parietes,  as  it  were,  and  without  the 
chance  of  interruption.  I  must  also  remark,  that  the  fea- 
tures, form,  and  dress  of  the  eidolon^  as  you  well  term  the 
apparition  of  our  parent,  seemed  to  me  more  precisely  dis- 
tinct than  was  vouchsafed  to  you  on  the  former  occasion. 
Of  this  hereafter  ;  but  Heaven  forbid  I  should  glory  or  set 
up  any  claim  of  superiority  over  the  other  descendants  of 
our  common  parent  from  such  decided  marks  of  his  prefer- 
ence. Laus  propria  sordet.  I  am  well  satisfied  that  the 
honor  was  bestowed  not  on  my  person,  but  my  cloth  :  that 
the  preference  did  not  elevate  Jonas  Dryasdust  over  Clutter- 
buck,  but  the  doctor  of  divinity  over  the  captain.  Cedant 
arma  togce — a  maxim  never  to  be  forgotten  at  any  time,  but 
especially  to  be  remembered  when  the  soldier  is  upon  half- 
pay. 

But  I  bethink  me  that  I  am  keeping  you  all  this  while  in 
the  porch,  and  wearying  you  with  long  inductions,  when 
you  would  have  me  properare  in  mediam  rem.  As  you  will. 
It  shall  be  done  ;  for,  as  his  Grace  is  wont  to  say  of  me  wit- 
tily, "  No  man  tells  a  story  so  well  as  as  Dr.  Dryasdust  when 
he  has  once  got  up  to  the  starting-post.*'  Jocose  hoc.  But 
to  continue. 

I  had  skimmed  the  cream  of  the  narrative  which  I  had 
received  about  a  week  before,  and  that  with  no  small  cost 
and  pain  ;  for  the  hand  of  our  parent  is  become  so  small  and 
80  crabbed  that  I  was  obliged  to  use  strong  magnifiers. 
Feeling  my  eyes  a  little  exhausted  towards  the  close  of  the 
second  volume,  I  leaned  back  in  my  easy-chair,  and  began 
to  consider  whether  several  of  the  objections  which  have 
been  particularly  urged  against  our  father  and  patron  might 
not  be  considered  as  applying,  in  an  especial  manner,  to  the 
papers  I  had  just  perused.     *'Here  are  figments  enough," 


INTRODUCTION  TO  PEVEIUL  OF  THE  PEAK        xiU 

said  I  to  myself,  "  to  confuse  the  march  of  a  whole  history 
— anachronisms  enough  to  overset  all  chronology  !  The 
old  gentleman  hath  broken  all  bounds  :  ahiit,  evasit,  ertipit" 

As  these  thoughts  passed  through  my  mind,  I  fell  into  a 
fit  of  musing,  which  is  not  uncommon  with  me  after  dinner, 
wnen  I  am  altogether  alone,  or  have  no  one  with  me  but  my 
curate.  I  was  awake,  however ;  for  I  remembered  seeing, 
in  the  embers  of  the  fire,  a  representation  of  a  miter,  with 
the  towers  of  a  cathedral  in  the  background ;  moreover,  I 
recollect  gazing  for  a  certain  time  on  the  comely  counte- 
nance of  Dr.  Whiterose,  my  uncle  by  the  mother's  side — the 
same  who  is  mentioned  in  Tlie  Heart  of  Midlothian — whose 
portrait,  graceful  in  wig  and  canonicals,  hangs  above  my 
mantelpiece.  Farther,  I  remember  marking  the  flowers  in 
the  frame  of  carved  oak,  and  casting  my  eyes  on  the  pistols 
which  hang  beneath,  being  the  firearms  with  which,  in  the 
eventful  year  1746,  my  uncle  meant  to  have  espoused  the 
cause  of  Prince  Charles  Edward  ;  for,  indeed,  so  little  did 
he  esteem  personal  safety  in  comparison  of  steady  High 
Church  principle,  that  he  waited  but  the  news  of  the  Ad- 
venturer s  reaching  London  to  hasten  to  join  his  standard. 

Such  a  doze  as  I  then  enjoyed,  I  find  compatible  with  in- 
dulging the  best  and  deepest  cogitations  which  at  any  time 
arise  in  my  mind.  I  chew  the  cud  of  sweet  and  bitter  fancy, 
in  a  state  betwixt  sleeping  and  waking,  which  I  consider  as 
so  highly  favorable  to  philosophy,  that  I  have  no  doubt  some 
of  its  most  distinguished  systems  have  been  composed  under 
its  influence.  My  servant  is,  therefore,  instructed  to  tread 
as  if  upon  down  ;  my  door-hinges  are  carefully  oiled,  and  all 
appliances  used  to  prevent  me  from  being  prematurely  and 
harshly  called  back  to  the  broad  waking-day  of  a  laborious 
world.  My  custom,  in  this  particular,  is  so  well  known, 
that  the  very  schoolboys  cross  the  alley  on  tiptoe,  betwixt 
the  hours  of  four  and  five.  My  cell  is  the  very  dwelling  of 
Morpheus.  There  is  indeed  a  bawling  knave  of  a  broom- 
man,  quern  ego But  this  is  matter  for  the  quarter- 
sessions. 

As  my  head  sunk  back  upon  the  easy-chair  in  the  philo- 
sophical mood  which  I  have  just  described,  and  the  eyes  of 
my  body  began  to  close,  in  order,  doubtless,  that  those  of 
my  understanding  might  be  the  more  widely  opened,  I  was 
startled  by  a  knock  at  the  door,  of  a  kind  more  authori- 
tatively boisterous  than  is  given  at  that  hour  by  any  visitor 
acquainted  with  my  habits.  I  started  up  in  my  seat,  and 
heard  the  step  of  my  servant  hurrying  fdong  the  passage, 


Kiv  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

followed  by  a  very  heavy  and  measured  pace,  which  shook 
the  long  oak-floored  gallery  in  such  a  manner  as  forcibly  to 
arrest  my  attention.  "A  stranger,  sir,  just  arrived  from 
Edinburgh  by  the  north  mail,  desires  to  speak  with  your 
reverence/'  Such  were  the  words  with  which  Jacob  threw 
the  door  to  the  wall  ;  and  the  startled  tone  in  which  he  pro- 
nounced them,  although  there  was  nothing  particular  in  the 
annunciation  itself,  prepared  me  for  the  approach  of  a  visitor 
of  uncommon  dignity  and  importance. 

The  Author  of  Waverley  entered,  a  bulky  and  tall  man, 
in  a  traveling  great-coat,  which  covered  a  suit  of  snuff- 
brown,  cut  in  imitation  of  that  worn  by  the  great  Eambler.* 
His  flapped  hat — for  he  disdained  the  modern  frivolities  of 
a  traveling-cap — was  bound  over  his  head  with  a  large  silk 
handkerchief,  so  as  to  protect  his  ears  from  cold  at  once  and 
from  the  babble  of  his  pleasant  companions  in  the  public 
coach  from  which  he  had  just  alighted.  There  was  some- 
what of  a  sarcastic  shrewdness  and  sense  which  sat  on  the 
heavy  penthouse  of  his  shaggy  gray  eyebrow  ;  his  features 
were  in  other  respects  largely  shaped,  and  rather  heavy  than 
promising  wit  or  genius  ;  but  he  had  ..  notable  projection  of 
the  nose,  similar  to  that  line  of  the  Latin  poet — 

Immodicum  surgit  pro  cuspide  rostrum. 

A  stout  walking-stick  stayed  his  hand  ;  a  double  Barcelona 
protected  his  neck  ;  his  belly  was  something  prominent, 
'^  but  that's  not  much  "  ;  his  breeches  were  substantial  thick- 
set ;  and  a  pair  of  top-boots,  which  were  slipped  down  to 
ease  his  sturdy  calves,  did  not  conceal  his  comfortable  trav- 
eling stockings  of  lamVs  wool,  wrought,  not  on  the  loom, 
but  on  wires,  and  after  the  venerable  ancient  fashion  known 
in  Scotland  by  the  name  of  '*  ridge-and-furrow.''  His  age 
seemed  to  be  considerably  above  fifty,  but  could  not  amount 
to  threescore,  which  I  observed  with  pleasure,  trusting  there 
may  be  a  good  deal  of  work  had  out  of  him  yet ;  especially 
as  a  general  haleness  of  appearance — the  compass  and  strength 
of  his  voice,  the  steadiness  of  his  step,  the  rotundity  of  his 
calf,  the  depth  of  his  **  hem,''  and  the  sonorous  emphasis  of 
his  sneeze,  were  all  signs  of  a  constitution  built  for  per- 
manence. 

It  struck  me  forcibly,  as  I  gazed  on  this  portly  person, 
that  he  realized,  in  my  imagination,  th.  Stout  Gentleman  in 
^o,  II.,  who  reported  such  subject  of  varying  speculation  to 

^y^mA'^v.  Samuel  Johnson,  author  of  The  Rambler  (Laing), 


INTRODUCTION  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK         xv 

onr  most  amusing  and  elegant  Utopian  traveler,  Master 
Geoffrey  Crayon.  Indeed,  but  for  one  little  trait  in  the  con- 
duct of  the  said  Stout  Gentleman — I  mean  the  gallantry 
towards  his  landlady,  a  thing  which  would  greatly  derogate 
from  our  senior's  character — I  should  be  disposed  to  conclude 
that  Master  Crayon  had,  on  that  memorable  occasion, 
actually  passed  his  time  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Author  of 
Waverley.  But  our  worthy  patriarch,  be  it  spoken  to  his 
praise,  far  from  cultivating  the  society  of  the  fair  sex,  seems, 
in  avoiding  the  company  of  womankind,  rather  to  imitate 
the  humor  of  our  friend  and  relation.  Master  Jonathan 
Oldbuck,  as  I  was  led  to  conjecture,  from  a  circumstance 
which  occurred  immediately  after  his  entrance. 

Having  acknowledged  his  presence  with  fitting  thanks 
and  gratulations,  I  proposed  to  my  venerated  visitor,  as  the 
refreshment  best  suited  to  the  hour  of  the  day,  to  summon 
my  cousin  and  housekeeper.  Miss  Catharine  Whiterose,  with 
the  tea-equipage  ;  but  he  rejected  my  proposal  with  disdain 
worthy  of  the  Laird  of  Monkbarns.  ^*No  scandal-broth, '' 
he  exclaimed — ''  no  unidea'd  woman's  chatter  for  me.  Fill 
the  frothed  tankard — slice  the  fatted  rump  ;  I  desire  no 
society  but  yours,  and  no  refreshment  but  what  the  cask  and 
the  gridiron  can  supply.'^ 

The  beefsteak,  and  toast,  and  tankard  were  speedily  got 
ready  ;  and  whether  an  apparition  or  a  bodily  presentation, 
my  visitor  displayed  dexterity  as  a  trencherman  which  might 
have  attracted  the  envy  of  a  hungry  hunter  after  a  fox-chase 
of  forty  miles.  Neither  did  he  fail  to  make  some  deep  and 
solemn  appeals  not  only  to  the  tankard  aforesaid,  but  to  two 
decanters  of  London  particular  Madeira  and  old  port ;  the 
first  of  which  T  had  extracted  from  its  ripening  place  of  de- 
positation within  reach  of  the  genial  warmth  of  the  oven  : 
the  other,  from  a  deep  crypt  in  mine  own  ancient  cellar, 
which  whilom  may  have  held  the  vintages  of  the  victors  of 
the  world,  the  arch  being  composed  of  Eoman  brick.  I  could 
not  help  admiring  and  congratulating  the  old  gentleman  upon 
the  vigorous  appetite  which  he  displayed  for  the  genial  cheer 
of  Old  England.  **  Sir,'*  was  his  reply,  ^'  I  must  eat  as  an 
Englishman  to  qualify  myself  for  taking  my  place  at  one  of 
the  most  select  companies  of  right  English  spirits  which  ever 
girdled  in  and  hewed  asunder  a  mountainous  sirloin  and  a 
generous  plum-pudding.** 

I  inquired,  but  with  all  deference  and  modesty,  whither  he 
was  bound,  and  to  what  distinguished  society  he  applied  a 
description  so  general.     I  shall  proceed,  in  humble  imitation 


xvl  WA  VEBLET  NO  VEL8 

of  your  example,  to  give  the  subsequent  dialogue  in  a  drv 
matic  form,  unless  when  description  becomes  necessary. 

Author  of  Waverley,  To  whom  should  I  apply  such  a  de- 
scription, save  the  only  society  to  whom  it  can  be  thoroughly 
applicable — those  unerring  judges  of  old  books  and  old  wine 
— the  Eoxburgh  Club  of  liondon  ?  Have  you  not  heard  that 
I  have  been  chosen  a  member  of  that  society  of  select  biblio- 
maniacs ?* 

Dryasditst.  (Rummaging  in  his  pocket.)  I  did  hear  some- 
thing of  it  from  Captain  Clutterbuck,  who  wrote  to  me — ay, 
here  is  his  letter — that  such  a  report  was  current  among  the 
Scottish  antiquaries,  who  were  much  alarmed  lest  you  should 
be  seduced  into  the  heresy  of  preferring  English  beef  to  seven- 
year-old  black-faced  mutton.  Maraschino  to  whisky,  and 
turtle-soup  to  cock-a-leekie  ;  in  which  case,  they  must  needs 
renounce  you  as  a  lost  man.  ''  But,"  adds  our  friend,  look- 
ing at  the  letter,  his  hand  is  rather  of  a  military  description, 
better  used  to  handle  the  sword  than  the  pen — '*^our  friend 
is  so  much  upon  the  shun  ' — the  shun,  I  think  it  is — "  that 
it  must  be  no  light  temptation  which  will  withdraw  him  from 
his  incognito." 

Author,  No  light  temptation,  unquestionably  :  but  this  is  a 
powerful  one,  to  hob-or-nob  with  the  lords  of  the  literary 
treasures  of  Althorpe  and  Hodnet,f  in  Madeira  negus,  brewed 
by  the  classical  Dibdin  ;  to  share  those  profound  debates 
which  stamp  accurately  on  each  ^'  small  volume,  dark  with 
tarnished  gold,"  its  color,  not  of  S.  S.  but  of  E.  R.  ;  to  toast 
the  immortal  memory  of  Caxton,  Valdarar,  Pynson,  and  the 
other  fathers  of  that  great  art  which  has  made  all,  and  each 
of  us,  what  we  are.  These,  my  dear  son,  are  temptations 
to  which  you  see  me  now  in  the  act  of  resigning  that  quiet 
chimney-corner  of  life  in  which,  unknowing  and  unknown — 
save  by  means  of  the  hopeful  family  to  which  I  have  given 
birth — I  proposed  to  wear  out  the  end  of  life's  evening  gray. 

So  saying, our  venerable  friend  took  another  emphatic  touch 
of  the  tankard,  as  if  the  very  expression  had  suggested  that 
specific  remedy  against  the  evils  of  life  recommended  in  the 
celebrated  response  of  Johnson's  anchorite — 

*  The  Author  has  pride  in  recording  that  he  had  the  honor  to  be 
elected  a  member  of  this  distinguished  association,  merely  as  the 
Author  of  Waverlay^  without  any  other  designation  ;  and  it  was  an 
additional  inducement  to  throw  off  the  mask  of  an  anonymous 
author,  that  it  gives  him  a  right  to  occupy  the  vacant  chair  at  that 
festive  board. 

}  Althorpe,  the  seat  of  the  Earls  Spencer,  in  the  county  of  North' 


INTRODUCTION  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK       xvii 

Comej  my  lad,  and  drink  some  beer. 

When  he  had  placed  on  the  table  the  silver  tankard,  and 
fetched  a  deep  sigh  to  collect  the  respiration  which  the  long 
draught  had  interrupted,  I  could  not  help  echoing  it  in  a 
note  so  pathetically  compassionate  that  he  fixed  his  eyes  on 
me  with  surprise.  ''How  is  this.'*"  said  he,  somewhat 
angrily  ;  "  do  you,  the  creature  of  my  will,  grudge  me  my 
preferment  ?  Have  I  dedicated  to  you  and  your  fellows  the 
best  hours  of  my  life  for  these  seven  years  past ;  and  do  you 
presume  to  grumble  or  repine  because,  in  those  which  are  to 
come,  I  seek  for  some  enjoyment  of  life  in  society  so  con- 
genial to  my  pursuits  ?"  I  humbled  myself  before  the 
offended  senior,  and  professed  my  innocence  in  all  that  could 
possibly  give  him  displeasure.  He  seemed  partly  appeased, 
but  still  bent  on  me  an  eye  of  suspicion,  while  he  questioned 
me  in  the  words  of  old  Norton,  in  the  ballad  of  the  Rising 
in  the  North  Country, 

Author.  What  wouldst  thou  have,  Francis  Norton  ? 

Thou  art  my  youngest  son  and  heir ; 
Something  lies  brooding  at  thy  heart — 

Whate'er  it  be,  to  me  declare. 

Dryasdust.  Craving,  then,  your  paternal  forgiveness  for 
my  presumption,  I  only  sighed  at  the  possibility  of  your 
venturing  yourself  amongst  a  body  of  critics  to  whom,  in  the 
capacity  of  skilful  antiquaries,  the  investigation  of  truth  is 
an  especial  duty,  and  who  may  therefore  visit  with  the  more 
severe  censure  those  aberrations  which  it  is  so  often  your 
pleasure  to  make  from  the  path  of  true  history. 

Author,  I  understand  you.  You  mean  to  say  these 
learned  persons  will  have  but  little  toleration  for  a  romance 
or  a  fictitious  narrative  founded  upon  history  ? 

Dryasdust,  Why,  sir,  I  do  rather  apprehend  that  their 
respect  for  the  foundation  will  be  such  that  they  may  be  apt 
to  quarrel  with  the  inconsistent  nature  of  the  superstructure  ; 

ampton,  contains  perhaps  the  most  valuable  private  collection  of 
early  printed  books  either  in  England  or  elsewhere.  Full  justice 
has  been  rendered  to  this  library  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Dibdin,  in  his 
Bibliotheea  Spenceriana,  and  his  JEdes  Althorpiance,  forming  seven 
large  and  handsome  volumes,  profusely  illustrated.  Mr.  Hebers' 
collection,  intended  for  his  seat  of  Hodnet,  in  Shropshire,  was  much 
less  fortunate.  The  greater  portion  of  his  library  remained  in  Lon- 
don, until  the  entire  collection,  after  his  death,  was  dispersed  by 
auction  in  the  years  1834-1837  {Laing), 


xviil  WA  VEELET  NO  VEL8 

just  as  every  classical  traveler  pours  forth  expressions  of 
sorrow  and  indignation  when,  in  traveling  through  Greece, 
he  chances  to  see  a  Turkish  kiosk  rising  on  the  ruins  of  an 
ancient  temple. 

Author,  But  since  we  cannot  rebuild  the  temple,  a  kiosk 
may  be  a  pretty  thing,  may  it  not  ?  Not  quite  correct  in 
architecture,  strictly  and  classically  criticised  ;  but  present- 
ing something  uncommon  to  the  eye,  and  something  fantastic 
to  the  imagination,  on  which  the  spectator  gazes  with 
pleasure  of  the  same  description  which  arises  from  the 
perusal  of  an  Eastern  tale. 

Dryasdust,  I  am  unable  to  dispute  with  you  in  metaphor, 
sir  ;  t)ut  I  must  say,  in  discharge  of  my  conscience,  that  you 
stand  much  censured  for  adulterating  the  pure  sources  of 
historical  knowledge.  You  approach  them,  men  say,  like 
the  drunken  yeoman  who,  once  upon  a  time,  polluted  the 
crystal  spring  which  supplied  the  thirst  of  his  family,  with 
a  score  of  sugar  loaves  and  a  hogshead  of  rum  ;  and  thereby 
converted  a  simple  and  wholesome  beverage  into  a  stupefy- 
ing, brutifying  and  intoxicating  fluid,  sweeter,  indeed,  to  the 
taste  than  the  natural  lymph,  but,  for  that  very  reason, 
more  seductively  dangerous. 

Author.  I  allow  your  metaphor,  doctor  ;  but  yet,  though 
good  punch  cannot  supply  the  want  of  spring  water,  it  is, 
when  modestly  used  no  malum  in  se ;  and  I  should  have 
thought  it  a  shabby  thing  of  the  parson  of  the  parish  had  he 
helped  to  drink  out  the  well  on  Saturday  night  and  preached 
against  the  honest,  hospitable  yeoman  on  Sunday  morning. 
I  should  have  answered  him  that  the  very  flavor  of  the  liquor 
.should  have  put  him  at  once  upon  his  guard  ;  and  that  if 
he  had  taken  a  drop  ov^  much,  he  ought  to  blame  his  own 
imprudence  more  than  the  hospitality  of  his  entertainer. 

Dryasdust.  I  profess  I  do  not  exactly  see  how  this 
applies. 

Author.  No  ;  you  are  one  of  those  numerous  disputants 
who  will  never  follow  their  metaphor  a  step  farther  than  it 
goes  their  own  way.  I  will  explain.  A  poor  fellow,  like 
myself,  weary  with  ransacking  his  own  barren  and  bounded 
imagination,  looks  out  for  some  general  subject  in  the  huge 
and  boundless  field  of  history,  which  holds  forth  examples 
of  every  kind  ;  lights  on  some  personage,  or  some  combina- 
tion of  circumstances,  or  some  striking  trait  of  manners, 
which  he  thinks  may  be  advantageously  used  as  the  basis  of 
a  fictitious  narrative  ;  bedizens  it  with  such  coloring  as  his 
skill  suggests,  ornaments  it  with  such  romantic  circumstances 


INTBODUCTION  TO  PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK        xix 

as  may  heighten  the  general  effect,  invests  it  with  such 
shades  of  character  as  will  best  contrast  with  each  other,  and 
thinks,  perhaps,  he  has  done  some  service  to  the  public,  if 
he  can  present  to  them  a  lively  fictitious  picture,  for  which 
the  original  anecdote  or  circumstance  which  he  made  free  to 
press  into  his  service  only  furnished  a  slight  sketch.  Now  I 
cannot  perceive  any  harm  in  this.  The  stores  of  history  are 
accessible  to  every  one,  and  are  no  more  exhausted  or  im- 
poverished by  the  hints  thus  borrowed  from  them  than  the 
fountain  is  drained  by  the  water  which  we  subtract  for 
domestic  purposes.  And  in  reply  to  the  sober  charge  of 
falsehood  against  a  narrative  announced  positively  to  be 
fictitious,  one  can  only  answer  by  Prior's  exclamation — 

Odzooks,  must  one  swear  to  the  truth  of  a  song  ? 

Dryasdust.  Nay  ;  but  I  fear  me  that  you  are  here  eluding 
the  charge.  Men  do  not  seriously  accuse  you  of  misrepre- 
senting history  ;  although  I  assure  you  I  have  seen  some 
grave  treatises  in  which  it  was  thought  necessary  to  contra- 
dict your  assertions. 

Author.  That  certainly  was  to  point  a  discharge  of  artil- 
lery against  a  wreath  of  morning  mist. 

Dryasdust.  But  besides,  and  especially,  it  is  said  that  you 
are  in  danger  of  causing  history  to  be  neglected,  readers  be- 
ing contented  with  such  frothy  and  superficial  knowledge  as 
they  acquire  from  your  works,  to  the  effect  of  inducing  them 
to  neglect  the  severer  and  more  accurate  sources  of  informa- 
tion. 

Author.  I  deny  the  consequence.  On  the  contrary,  I 
rather  hope  that  I  have  turned  the  attention  of  the  public  on 
various  points  which  have  received  elucidation  from  writers 
of  more  learning  and  research,  in  consequence  of  my  novels 
having  attached  some  interest  to  them.  I  might  give  in- 
stances, but  1  hate  vanity — I  hate  vanity.  The  history  of 
the  divining-rod  is  well  known  :  it  is  a  slight,  valueless  twig 
in  itself,  but  indicates,  by  its  motion,  where  veins  of  precious 
metal  are  concealed  below  the  earth,  which  afterwards  en- 
rich the  adventurers  by  whom  they  are  laboriously  and  care- 
fully wrought.  I  claim  no  more  merit  for  my  historical 
hints  ;  but  this  is  something. 

Dryasdust.  We  severer  antiquaries,  sir,  may  grant  that 
this  is  true  ;  to  wit,  that  your  works  may  occasionally  have 
put  men  of  solid  judgment  upon  researches  which  they 
would  not  perhaps  have  otherwise  thought  of  undertaking. 


XX  WA  VEBLEY  NOVELS 

But  this  will  leave  yon  still  accountable  for  misleading  the 
young,  the  indolent,  and  the  giddy,  by  thrusting  into  their 
hands  works  which,  while  they  have  so  much  the  appearance 
of  conveying  information  as  may  prove  perhaps  a  salve  to 
their  consciences  for  employing  their  leisure  in  the  perusal, 
yet  leave  their  giddy  brains  contented  with  the  crude,  un- 
certain, and  often  false,  statements  which  your  novels  abound 
with. 

Author.  It  would  be  very  unbecoming  in  me,  reverend  sir, 
to  accuse  a  gentleman  of  your  cloth  of  cant ;  but,  pray,  is 
there  not  something  like  it  in  the  pathos  with  which  you 
enforce  these  dangers  ?  I  aver,  on  the  contrary,  that,  by 
introducing  the  busy  and  the  youthful  to  "truths  severe  in 
fairy  fiction  dressed,'^*  I  am  doing  a  real  service  to  the 
more  ingenious  and  the  more  apt  among  them  ;  for  the  love 
of  knowledge  wants  but  a  beginning — the  least  spark  will 
give  fire  when  the  train  is  properly  prepared  ;  and  having 
been  interested  in  fictitious  adventures,  ascribed  to  an  his- 
torical period  and  characters,  the  reader  begins  next  to  be 
anxious  to  learn  what  the  facts  really  were,  and  how  far  the 
novelist  has  justly  represented  them. 

But  even  where  the  mind  of  the  more  careless  reader  re- 
mains satisfied  with  the  light  perusal  he  has  aiforded  to  a 
tale  of  fiction,  he  will  still  lay  down  the  book  with  a  degree 
of  knowledge,  not  perhaps  of  the  most  accurate  kind,  but 
such  as  he  might  not  otherwise  have  acquired.  Nor  is  this 
limited  to  minds  of  a  low  and  incurious  description  ;  but,  on 
the  contrary,  comprehends  many  persons  otherwise  of  high 
talents,  who,  nevertheless,  either  from  lack  of  time  or  of 
perseverance,  are  willing  to  sit  down  contented  with  the 
slight  information  which  is  acquired  in  such  a  manner.  The 
great  Duke  of  Marlborough,  for  example,  having  quoted  in 
conversation  some  fact  of  English  history  rather  inaccurately, 
was  requested  to  name  his  authority.  '' Shakspeare's  his- 
torical plays,"  answered  the  conqueror  of  Blenheim  ;  'Hhe 
only  English  history  I  ever  read  in  my  life."  And  a  hasty 
recollection  will  convince  any  of  us  how  much  better  we  are 
acquainted  with  those  parts  of  English  history  which  that 

*  The  doctor  has  denied  the  Author's  title  to  shelter  himself  under 
this  quotation  ;  but  the  Author  continues  to  think  himself  entitled 
to  all  the  shelter  which,  threadbare  as  it  is,  it  may  yet  be  able  to 
afford  him.  The  truth  severe  applies  not  to  the  narrative  itself, 
but  to  the  moral  it  conveys,  in  which  the  Author  has  not  been 
thought  deficient.  The  "  fairy  fiction  "  is  the  conduct  of  the  story 
which  the  tale  is  invented  to  elucidate. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK       xxi 

immortal  bard  has  dramatized  than  with  any  other  portion 
of  British  story. 
Dryasdust.  And  you,  worthy  sir,  are  ambitious  to  render 

a  similar  service  to  posterity  ? 

Author.  May  the  saints  forefend  I  should  be  guilty  of  such 
unfounded  vanity  !  I  only  show  what  has  been  done  when 
there  were  giants  in  the  land.  We  pygmies  of  the  present 
day  may  at  least,  however,  do  something ;  and  it  is  well  to 
keep  a  pattern  before  our  eyes,  though  that  pattern  be 
inimitable. 

Dryasdust.  Well,  sir,  with  me  you  must  have  your  own 
course  ;  and  for  reasons  well  known  to  you  it  is  impossible 
for  me  to  reply  to  you  in  argument.  But  I  doubt  if  all  you 
have  said  will  reconcile  the  public  to  the  anachronisms  of 
your  present  volumes.  Here  you  have  a  Countess  of  Derby 
fetched  out  of  her  cold  grave  and  saddled  with  a  set  of  ad- 
ventures dated  twenty  years  after  her  death,  besides  being 
given  up  as  a  Catholic,  when  she  was  in  fact  a  zealous 
Huguenot. 

Author.  She  may  sue  me  for  damages,  as  in  the  case  Dido 
versus  Virgil. 

Dryasdust.  A  worse  fault  is,  that  your  manners  are  even 
mere  incorrect  than  usual.  Your  Puritan  is  faintly  traced 
in  comparison  to  your  Camerouian. 

Author.  I  agree  to  the  charge  ;  but  although  I  still  con- 
sider hypocrisy  and  enthusiasm  as  fit  food  for  ridicule  and 
satire,  yet  I  am  sensible  of  the  difficulty  of  holding  fanati- 
cism up  to  laughter  or  abhorrence  without  using  coloring 
which  may  give  offense  to  the  sincerely  worthy  and  religious. 
Many  things  are  lawful  which,  we  are  taught,  are  not  con- 
venient ;  and  there  are  many  tones  of  feeling  which  are  too 
respectable  to  be  insulted,  though  we  do  not  altogether 
sympathize  with  them. 

Dryasdust.  Not  to  mention,  my  worthy  sir,  that  perhaps 
you  may  think  the  subject  exhausted. 

Author.  The  devil  take  the  men  of  this  generation  for 
putting  the  worst  construction  on  their  neighbor's  conduct  ! 

So  saying,  and  flinging  a  testy  sort  of  adieu  towards  me 
with  his  hand,  he  opened  the  door  and  ran  hastily  down- 
stairs. I  started  on  my  feet  and  rang  for  my  servant,  who 
instantly  came.  I  demanded  what  had  become  of  the 
stranger.  He  denied  that  any  such  had  been  admitted.  I 
pointed  to  the  empty  decanters,  and  he — he — he  had  the 
assurance  to  intimate  that  such  vacancies  were  sometimes 
made  when  I  had  no  better  company  than  my  own.     I  do 


jcxU  '  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

not  know  what  to  make  of  this  doubtful  matter,  hut  will 
certainly  imitate  your  example  in  placing  this  dialogue,  with 
my  present  letter,  at  the  head  of  Peveril  of  the  Peak, 

I  am.  Dear  Sir,  very  much, 

Your  faithful  and  obedient  Servant, 

Jonas  Dryasdust* 

Miehadvias  t'.xiy,  1833, 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 


CHAPTER  I 

When  civil  dudgeon  first  grew  high, 
And  men  fell  out  they  knew  not  why ; 
When  foul  words,  jealousies,  and  fears, 
Set  folk  together  by  the  ears. 

Butler. 

William,  the  Conqueror  of  England,  was,  or  supposed  him. 
self  to  be,  the  father  of  a  certain  William  Peveril,  who  at- 
tended him  to  the  battle  of  Hastings,  and  there  distinguished 
himself.  The  liberal-minded  monarch,  who  assumed  in  his 
charters  the  veritable  title  of  Gulielmus  Bastardus,  was  not 
likely  to  let  his  son's  illegitimacy  be  any  bar  to  the  course 
of  his  royal  favor,  when  the  laws  of  England  were  issued 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Norman  victor,  and  the  lands  of  the 
Saxons  were  at  his  unlimited  disposal.  William  Peveril  ob- 
tained a  liberal  grant  of  property  and  lordships  in  Derby- 
shire, and  became  the  erector  of  that  Gothic  fortress  which, 
hanging  over  the  mouth  of  the  Devil's  Cavern,  so  well  known 
to  tourists,  gives  the  name  of  Castleton  to  the  adjacent 
village. 

From  this  feudal  baron,  who  chose  his  nest  upon  the 
principles  on  which  an  eagle  selects  her  eyrie,  and  built  it  in 
such  a  fashion  as  if  he  had  intended  it,  as  an  Irishman  said 
of  the  Martello  towers,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  puzzling  pos- 
terity, there  was,  or  conceived  themselves  to  be,  descended 
(for  their  pedigree  was  rather  hypothetical)  an  opulent  fam- 
ily of  knightly  rank,  in  the  same  county  of  Derby.  The 
great  fief  of  Castleton,  with  its  adjacent  wastes  and  forests, 
and  all  the  wonders  which  they  contain,  had  been  forfeited 
in  King  John's  stormy  days  by  one  William  Peveril,  and  had 
been  granted  anew  to  the  Lord  Ferrers  of  that  day.  Yet 
this  William's  descendants,  though  no  longer  possessed  of 
what  they  alleged  to  have  been  their  original  property,  were 


2    '  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

long  distinguished  by  the  proud  titleof  Peverilsof  the  Peak, 
which  served  to  mark  their  high  descent  and  lofty  preten- 
sions.. 

In  Charles  the  Second's  time,  the  representative  or  this 
ancient  family  was  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  a  man  who  had 
many  of  the  ordinary  attributes  of  an  old-fashioned  country 
gentleman,  and  very  few  individual  traits  to  distinguish  him 
from  the  general  portrait  of  that  worthy  class  of  mankindc 
He  was  proud  of  small  advantages,  angry  at  small  disap- 
pointments, incapable  of  forming  any  resolution  or  opinion 
abstracted  from  his  own  prejudices ;  he  was  proud  of  his 
birth,  lavish  in  his  housekeeping,  convivial  with  those 
kindred  and  acquaintances  who  would  allow  his  superiority 
in  rank  ;  contentious  and  quarrelsome  with  all  that  crossed 
his  pretensions  ;  kind  to  the  poor,  except  when  they  plun- 
dered his  game  ;  a  Royalist  in  his  political  opinions,  and  one 
who  detested  alike  a  Roundhead,  a  poacher,  and  a  Presby- 
terian. In  religion.  Sir  Geoffrey  was  a  High  Churchman  of 
so  exalted  a  strain  that  many  thought  he  still  nourished  in 
private  the  Roman  Catholic  tenets,  which  his  family  had 
only  renounced  in  his  father's  time,  and  that  he  had  a  dis- 
pensation for  conforming  in  outward  observances  to  the 
Protestant  faith.  There  was  at  least  such  a  scandal  amongst 
the  Puritans,  and  the  influence  which  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril 
certainly  appeared  to  possess  amongst  the  Catholic  gentle- 
men of  Derbyshire  and  Cheshire  seemed  to  give  countenance 
to  the  rumor. 

Such  was  Sir  Geoffrey,  who  might  have  passed  to  his  grave 
without  farther  distinction  than  a  brass  plate  in  the  chancel, 
had  he  not  lived  in  times  which  forced  the  most  inactive 
spirits  into  exertion,  as  a  tempest  influences  the  sluggish 
waters  of  the  deadest  meere.  When  the  Civil  Wars  broke 
out,  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  proud  from  pedigree  and  brave  by 
constitution,  raised  a  regiment  for  the  King,  and  showed 
upon  several  occasions  more  capacity  for  command  than  men 
had  heretofore  given  him  credit  for. 

Even  in  the  midst  of  the  civil  turmoil,  he  fell  in  love 
with,  and  married,  a  beautiful  and  amiable  young  lady  of 
the  noble  house  of  Stanley ;  and  from  that  time  had  the 
more  merit  in  his  loyalty,  as  it  divorced  him  from  her 
society,  unless  at  very  brief  intervals,  when  his  duty  per- 
mitted an  occasional  visit  to  his  home.  Scorning  to  be 
allured  from  his  military  duty  by  domestic  inducements, 
Peveril  of  the  Peak  fought  on  for  several  rough  years  of  civil 
war,  and  performed  his  part  with  sufficient  gallantry,  until 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  8 

his  regiment  was  surprised  and  cut  to  pieces  by  Poyntz, 
Orom weirs  enterprising  and  successful  general  of  cavalry. 
The  defeated  Cavalier  escaped  from  the  field  of  battle,  and, 
like  a  true  descendant  of  William  the  Conqueror,  disdaining 
submission,  threw  himself  into  his  own  castellated  mansion, 
which  was  attacked  and  defended  in  a  siege  of  that  irregular 
kind  which  caused  the  destruction  of  so  many  baronial  resi- 
dences during  the  course  of  those  unhappy  wars.  Martin- 
dale  Castle,  after  having  suffered  severely  from  the  cannon 
which  Cromwell  himself  brought  against  it,  was  at  length 
surrendered  when  in  the  last  extremity.  Sir  Geoffrey  him- 
self became  a  prisoner,  and  while  his  liberty  was  only  re- 
stored upon  a  promise  of  remaining  a  peaceful  subject  to  the 
Commonwealth  in  future,  his  former  delinquencies,  as  they 
were  termed  by  the  ruling  party,  were  severely  punished  by 
fine  and  sequestration. 

But  neither  his  forced  promise  nor  the  fear  of  farther 
unpleasant  consequences  to  his  person  or  property  could 
prevent  Peveril  of  the  Peak  from  joining  the  gallant  Earl 
of  Derby  the  night  before  the  fatal  engagement  in  Wiggan 
Lane,  where  the  earl^s  forces  were  dispersed.  Sir  Geoffrey, 
having  had  his  share  in  that  action,  escaped  with  the  relics 
of  the  Eoyalists  after  the  defeat,  to  join  Charles  II.  He 
witnessed  also  the  final  defeat  of  Worcester,  where  he  was  a 
second  time  made  prisoner  ;  and  as,  in  the  opinion  of  Crom- 
well and  the  language  of  the  times,  he  was  regarded  as  an 
obstinate  Malignant,  he  was  in  great  danger  of  having  shared 
with  the  Earl  of  Derby  his  execution  at  Bolton-le-Moors, 
having  partaken  with  him  the  dangers  of  two  actions.  But 
Sir  Geoffrey^s  life  was  preserved  by  the  interest  of  a  friend, 
who  possessed  influence  in  the  councils  of  Oliver.  This  was 
a  Mr.  Bridgenorth,  a  gentleman  of  middling  quality,  whose 
father  had  been  successful  in  some  commercial  adventure 
during  the  peaceful  reign  of  James  I.  ;  and  who  had  be- 
queathed his  son  a  considerable  sum  of  money,  in  addition  to 
the  moderate  patrimony  which  he  inherited  from  his  father. 

The  substantial,  though  small-sized,  brick  building  of 
Moultrassie  Hall  was  but  two  miles  distant  from  Martindale 
Castle,  and  the  young  Bridgenorth  attended  the  same  school 
with  the  heir  of  the  Peverils.  A  sort  of  companionship,  if 
not  intimacy,  took  place  betwixt  them,  which  continued 
during  their  youthful  sports — the  rather  that  Bridgenorth, 
though  he  did  not  at  heart  admit  Sir  Geoffrey^s  claims  of  su- 
periority to  the  extent  which  the  other's  vanity  would  have 
exacted,  paid  deference  in  a  reasonable  degree  to  the  rep- 


4  WAVEELEY  NOVELS 

resentative  of  a  family  so  much  more  ancient  and  im- 
portant than  his  own,  without  conceiving  that  he  in  any 
respect  degraded  himself  by  doing  so. 

Mr.  Bridgenorth  did  not,  however,  carry  his  complaisance 
so  far  as  to  embrace  Sir  Geoffrey^s  side  during  the  Civil 
War.  On  the  contrary,  as  an  active  justice  of  the  peace,  he 
rendered  much  assistance  in  arraying  the  militia  in  the  cause 
of  the  Parliament,  and  for  some  time  held  a  military  com- 
mission  in  that  service.  This  was  partly  owing  to  his  re- 
ligious principles,  for  he  was  a  zealous  Presbyterian,  partly 
to  his  political  ideas,  which,  without  being  absolutely  demo* 
cratical,  favored  the  popular  side  of  the  great  national  ques- 
tion. Besides,  he  was  a  moneyed  man,  and  to  a  certain 
extent  had  a  shrewd  eye  to  his  worldly  interest.  He  under- 
stood how  to  improve  the  opportunities  which  civil  war 
afforded  of  advancing  his  fortune,  by  a  dexterous  use  of  his 
capital ;  and  he  was  not  at  a  loss  to  perceive  that  these  were 
likely  to  be  obtained  by  joining  the  Parliament ;  while  the 
King's  cause,  as  it  was  managed,  held  out  nothing  to  the 
wealthy  but  a  course  of  exaction  and  compulsory  loans. 
For  these  reasons,  Bridgenorth  became  a  decided  Eound- 
head,  and  all  friendly  communication  betwixt  his  neighbor 
and  him  was  abruptly  broken  asunder.  This  was  done  with 
the  less  acrimony  that,  during  the  Civil  War,  Sir  Geoffrey 
was  almost  constantly  in  the  field,  following  the  vacillating 
and  unhappy  fortunes  of  his  master ;  while  Major  Bridge- 
north,  who  soon  renounced  active  military  service,  resided 
chiefly  in  London,  and  only  occasionally  visited  the  hall. 

Upon  these  visits,  it  was  with  great  pleasure  he  received 
the  intelligence  that  Lady  Peveril  had  shown  much  kind- 
ness to  Mrs.  Bridgenorth,  and  had  actually  given  her  and  her 
family  shelter  in  Martindale  Castle  when  Moultrassie  Hall 
was  threatened  with  pillage  by  a  body  of  Prince  Eupert's 
ill-disciplined  Cavaliers.  This  acquaintance  had  been  ma- 
tured by  frequent  walks  together,  which  the  vicinity  of  their 
places  of  residence  suffered  the  Lady  Peveril  to  have  with 
Mrs.  Bridgenorth,  who  deemed  herself  much  honored  in 
being  thus  admitted  into  the  society  of  so  distinguished  a 
lady.  Major  Bridgenorth  heard  of  this  growing  intimacy 
with  great  pleasure,  and  he  determined  to  repay  the  obliga- 
tion, as  far  as  he  could  without  much  hurt  to  himself,  by 
Interfering  with  all  his  influence  in  behalf  of  her  unfor- 
tunate husband.  It  was  chiefly  owing  to  Major  Bridge- 
north's  mediation  that  Sir  Geoffrey's  life  was  saved  after  the 
battle  of  Worcester.     He  obtained  him  permission  to  com- 


PEVERIL  OP  THE  PEAK  A 

pound  for  his  estate  on  easier  terms  than  many  who  had 
been  less  obstinate  in  malignancy ;  and  finally,  when,  in 
order  to  raise  the  money  to  pay  the  composition,  the  knight 
was  obliged  to  sell  a  considerable  portion  of  his  patrimony, 
Major  Bridgenorth  became  the  purchaser,  and  that  at  a 
larger  price  than  had  been  paid  to  any  Cavalier  under  such 
circumstances  by  a  member  of  the  Committee  for  Sequestra- 
tions. It  is  true,  the  prudent  committeeman  did  not,  by 
any  means,  lose  sight  of  his  own  interest  in  the  transaction, 
for  the  price  was,  after  all,  very  moderate,  and  the  property 
lay  adjacent  to  Moultrassie  Hall,  the  value  of  which  was  at 
least  trebled  by  the  acquisition.  But  then  it  was  also  true 
that  the  unfortunate  owner  must  have  submitted  to  much 
worse  conditions  had  the  committeeman  used,  as  others  did, 
the  full  advantages  which  his  situation  gave  him ;  and 
Bridgenorth  took  credit  to  himself,  and  received  it  from 
others,  for  having,  on  this  occasion,  fairly  sacrificed  his 
interest  to  his  liberality. 

Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  was  of  the  same  opinion,  and  the 
rather  that  Mr.  Bridgenorth  seemed  to  bear  his  exultation 
with  great  moderation,  and  was  disposed  to  show  him  per- 
sonally the  same  deference  in  his  present  sunshine  of  pros- 
perity which  he  had  exhibited  formerly  in  their  early 
acquaintance.  It  is  but  justice  to  Major  Bridgenorth  to 
observe  that  in  this  conduct  he  paid  respect  as  much  to  the 
misfortunes  as  to  the  pretensions  of  his  far-descended  neigh- 
bor, and  that,  with  the  frank  generosity  of  a  blunt  English- 
man, he  conceded  points  of  ceremony,  about  which  he 
himself  was  indifferent,  merely  because  he  saw  that  his 
doing  so  gave  pleasure  of  Sir  Ceoffrey. 

Peveril  of  the  Peak  did  justice  to  his  neighbor's  delicacy, 
in  consideration  of  which  he  forgot  many  things.  He  for- 
got that  Major  Bridgenorth  was  already  in  possession  of  a 
fair  third  of  his  estate,  and  had  various  pecuniary  claims 
affecting  the  remainder  to  the  extent  of  one-third  more.  He 
endeavored  even  to  forget  what  it  was  still  more  difficult 
not  to  remember,  the  altered  situation  in  which  they  and 
their  mansions  now  stood  to  each  other. 

Before  the  Civil  War,  the  superb  battlements  and  turrets 
of  Martindale  Castle  looked  down  on  the  red  brick-built  hall, 
as  it  stole  out  from  the  green  plantations,  just  as  an  oak  in 
Martindale  Chase  would  have  looked  beside  one  of  the  stunted 
and  formal  young  beech  trees  with  which  Bridgenorth  had 
graced  his  avenue  ;  but  after  the  siege  which  we  have  com- 
memorated the  enlarged  and  augmented  hall  was  as  much 


6  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

predominant  in  the  landscape  over  the  shattered  and  black- 
ened ruins  of  the  castle,  of  which  only  one  wing  was  left 
habitable,  as  the  youthful  beech,  in  all  its  vigor  of  shoot 
and  bud,  would  appear  to  the  same  aged  oak  stripped  of  its 
boughs  and  rifted  by  lightning,  one  half  laid  in  shivers  on 
the  ground,  and  the  other  remaining  a  blackened  and  un- 
graceful trunk,  rent  and  splintered,  and  without  either  life 
or  leaves.  Sir  Geoffrey  could  not  but  feel  that  the  situa- 
tion and  prospects  of  the  two  neighbors  were  exchanged  as 
disadvantageously  for  himself  as  the  appearance  of  their 
mansions  ;  and  that  though  the  authority  of  the  man  in 
office  under  the  Parliament,  the  sequestrator  and  the  com- 
mitteeman, had  been  only  exerted  for  the  protection  of  the 
Cavalier  and  the  Malignant,  they  would  have  been  as  ef- 
fectual if  applied  to  procure  his  utter  ruin,  and  that  he  was 
become  a  client  while  his  neighbor  was  elevated  into  a 
patron. 

There  were  two  considerations,  besides  the  necessity  of 
the  case  and  the  constant  advice  of  his  lady,  which  enabled 
Peveril  of  the  Peak  to  endure,  with  some  patience,  this 
state  of  degradation.  The  first  was,  that  the  politics  of 
Major  Bridgenorth  began,  on  many  points,  to  assimilate 
themselves  to  his  own.  As  a  Presbyterian,  he  was  not  an 
utter  enemy  to  monarchy,  and  had  been  considerably  shocked 
at  the  unexpected  trial  and  execution  of  the  King ;  as  a 
civilian  and  a  man  of  property,  he  feared  the  domination  of 
the  military ;  and  though  he  wished  not  to  see  Charles  re- 
stored by  force  of  arms,  yet  he  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that 
to  bring  back  the  heir  of  the  royal  family,  on  such  terms  of 
composition  as  might  ensure  the  protection  of  those  popular 
immunities  and  privileges  for  which  the  Long  Parliament 
had  at  first  contended,  would  be  the  surest  and  most  desira- 
ble termination  to  the  mutations  in  state  affairs  which  had 
agitated  Britain.  Indeed,  the  major's  ideas  on  this  point 
approached  so  nearly  those  of  his  neighbor  that  he  had  well- 
nigh  suffered  Sir  Geoffrey,  who  had  a  finger  in  almost  all 
the  conspiracies  of  the  Eoyalists,  to  involve  him  in  the  un- 
fortunate rising  of  Penruddock  and  Groves  in  the  west,  in 
which  many  of  the  Presbyterian  interest,  as  well  as  the 
Cavalier  party,  were  engaged.  And  though  his  habitual 
prudence  eventually  kept  him  out  of  this  and  other  dangers. 
Major  Bridgenorth  was  considered,  during  the  last  years  of 
CromwelFs  domination  and  the  interregnum  which  succeeded, 
as  a  disaffected  person  to  the  Commonwealth  and  favorer  oi 
Charles  Stuart. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  7 

But,  besides  this  approximation  to  the  same  political 
opinions,  another  bond  of  intimacy  united  the  families  of 
the  castle  and  the  hall.  Major  Bridgenorth,  fortunate,  and 
eminently  so,  in  all  his  worldly  transactions,  was  visited  by 
severe  and  reiterated  misfortunes  in  his  family,  and  became, 
in  this  particular,  an  object  of  compassion  to  his  poorer  and 
more  decayed  neighbor.  Betwixt  the  breaking  out  of  the 
Civil  War  and  the  Restoration,  he  lost  successively  a  family 
of  no  less  than  six  children,  apparently  through  a  delicacy  of 
constitution,  which  cut  off  the  little  prattlers  at  the  early 
age  when  they  most  wind  themselves  around  the  heart  of  the 
parents. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1658,  Major  Bridgenorth  was 
childless ;  ere  it  ended,  he  had  a  daughter,  indeed,  but  her 
birth  was  purchased  by  the  death  of  an  affectionate  wife, 
whose  constitution  had  been  exhausted  by  maternal  grief, 
and  by  the  anxious  and  harrowing  reflection  that  from  her 
the  children  they  had  lost  derived  that  delicacy  of  health 
which  proved  unable  to  undergo  the  tear  and  wear  of  exist- 
ence. The  same  voice  which  told  Bridgenorth  that  he  was 
father  of  a  living  child  (it  was  the  friendly  voice  of  Lady 
Peveril)  communicated  to  him  the  melancholy  intelligence 
that  he  was  no  longer  a  husband.  The  feelings  Major 
Bridgenorth  were  strong  and  deep,  rather  than  hasty  and 
vehement ;  and  his  grief  assumed  the  form  of  a  sullen  stupor, 
from  which  neither  the  friendly  remonstrances  of  Sir  Geof- 
frey, who  did  not  fail  to  be  with  his  neighbor  at  this  distress- 
ing conjuncture,  even  though  he  knew  that  he  must  meet 
the  Presbyterian  pastor,  nor  the  ghostly  exhortations  of  this 
latter  person,  were  able  to  rouse  the  unfortunate  widower. 

At  length  Lady  Peveril,  with  the  ready  invention  of  a 
female  sharpened  by  the  sight  of  distress  and  the  feelings  of 
sympathy,  tried  on  the  sufferer  one  of  those  experiments  by 
which  grief  is  often  awakened  from  despondency  into  tears. 
She  placed  in  Bridgenorth's  arms  the  infant  whose  birth  had 
cost  him  so  dear,  and  conjured  him  to  remember  that  his 
Alice  was  not  yet  dead,  since  she  survived  in  the  helpless 
child  she  had  left  to  his  paternal  care. 

'*  Take  her  away — take  her  away  ! "  said  the  unhappy 
man,  and  they  were  the  first  words  he  had  spoken:  ^Het 
me  not  look  on  her  ;  it  is  but  another  blossom  that  has 
bloomed  to  fade,  and  the  tree  that  bore  it  will  never  flourish 
more  ! " 

He  almost  threw  the  child  into  Lady  PeveriFs  arms,  placed 
his  hands  before  his  face,  and  wept  aloud.     Lady  Peveril  did 


8  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

not  say  "  Be  comforted/'  but  she  ventured  to  promise  that 
the  blossom  should  ripen  to  fruit. 

"  Never — never  !  "  said  Bridgenorth  ;  ''  take  the  unhappy 
child  away,  and  let  me  only  know  when  I  shall  wear  black 
for  her.  Wear  black  !  '^  he  exclaimed,  interrupting  himself, 
"  what  other  color  shall  I  wear  during  the  remainder  of  my 
life  ?  " 

'^  I  will  take  the  child  for  a  season, '^  said  Lady  Peveril, 
*^  since  the  sight  of  her  is  so  painful  to  you  ;  and  the  little 
Alice  shall  share  the  nursery  of  our  Julian,  until  it  shall  be 
pleasure  and  not  pain  for  you  to  look  on  her.^' 

*^That  hour  will  never  come,"  said  the  unhappy  father; 
"  her  doom  is  written — she  will  follow  the  rest — God'h:  will 
be  done.  Lady,  I  thank  you — I  trust  her  to  your  care  ;  and 
I  thank  God  that  my  eye  shall  not  see  her  dying  agonies/' 

Without  detaining  the  reader's  attention  longer  on  this 
painful  theme,  it  is  enough  to  say  that  the  Lady  Peveril  did 
undertake  the  duties  of  a  mother  to  the  little  orphan  ;  and 
perhaps  it  was  owing,  in  a  great  measure,  to  her  judicious 
treatment  of  the  infant  that  its  feeble  hold  of  life  was  pre- 
served, since  the  glimmering  spark  might  probably  have  been 
altogether  smothered,  had  it,  like  the  major's  former  children, 
undergone  the  over-care  and  over-nursing  of  a  mother  ren- 
dered nervously  cautious  and  anxious  by  so  many  successive 
losses.  The  lady  was  the  more  ready  to  undertake  this  charge, 
that  she  herself  had  lost  two  infant  children  ;  and  that  she 
attributed  the  preservation  of  the  third,  now  a  fine  healthy 
child  of  three  years  old,  to  Julian's  being  subjected  to  rather 
a  different  course  of  diet  and  treatment  than  was  generally 
practised.  She  resolved  to  follow  the  same  regimen  with 
the  little  orphan  which  she  had  observed  in  the  case  of  her 
own  boy  ;  and  it  was  equally  successful.  By  a  more  sparing 
use  of  medicine,  by  a  bolder  admission  of  fresh  air,  by  a  firm, 
yet  cautious,  attention  to  encourage  rather  than  supersede 
the  exertions  of  nature,  the  puny  infant,  under  the  care  of 
an  excellent  nurse,  gradually  improved  in  strength  and  in 
liveliness. 

Sir  Geoffrey,  like  most  men  of  his  frank  and  good-natured 
disposition,  was  naturally  fond  of  children,  and  so  much 
compassionated  the  sorrows  of  his  neighbor  that  he  entirely 
forgot  his  being  a  Presbyterian,  until  it  became  necessary 
that  the  infant  should  be  christened  by  a  teacher  of  that 
persuasion. 

This  was  a  trying  case ;  the  father  seemed  incapable  of 
giving  direction,  and  that  the  threshold  of  Martindale  Oastle 


PEVERtL  OF  THE  PEAK  d 

should  be  violated  by  the  heretical  step  of  a  dissenting  cler- 
gyman was  matter  of  horror  to  its  orthodox  owner.  He  had 
seen  the  famous  Huge  Peters,  with  a  Bible  in  one  hand  and 
a  pistol  in  the  other,  ride  in  triumph  through  the  court-door 
when  Martindale  was  surrendered  ;  and  the  bitterness  of  that 
hour  had  entered  like  iron  into  his  soul.  Yet  such  was 
Lady  PeveriFs  influence  over  the  prejudices  of  her  husband, 
that  he  was  induced  to  connive  at  the  ceremony  taking  place 
in  a  remote  garden-house,  which  was  not  properly  within  the 
precincts  of  the  castle-wall.  The  lady  even  dared  to  be  pres- 
ent while  the  ceremony  was  performed  by  the  Reverend 
Master  Solsgrace,  who  had  once  preached  a  sermon  of  three 
hours'  length  before  the  House  of  Commons,  upon  a  thanks- 
giving occasion  after  the  relief  of  Exeter.  Sir  Geoffrey  Pev- 
eril  took  care  to  be  absent  the  whole  day  from  the  castle,  and 
it  was  only  from  the  great  interest  which  he  took  in  the 
washing,  perfuming,  and  as  it  were  purification,  of  the  sum- 
mer-house that  it  could  have  been  guessed  he  knew  anything 
of  what  had  taken  place  in  it. 

But,  whatever  prejudices  the  good  knight  might  entertain 
against  his  neighbor's  form  of  religion,  they  did  not  in  any 
way  influence  his  feelings  towards  him  as  a  sufferer  under 
severe  affliction.  The  mode  in  which  he  showed  his  sympathy 
was  rather  singular,  but  exactly  suited  the  character  of  both, 
and  the  terms  on  which  they  stood  with  each  other. 

Morning  after  morning  the  good  baronet  made  Moultrassie 
Hall  the  termination  of  his  walk  or  ride,  and  said  a  single 
word  of  kindness  as  he  passed.  Sometimes  he  entered  the 
old  parlor  where  the  proprietor  sat  in  solitary  wretchedness 
and  despondency  ;  but  more  frequently,  for  Sir  Geoffrey 
did  not  pretend  to  great  talents  of  conversation,  he  paused 
on  the  terrace,  and  stopping  or  halting  his  horse  by  the 
latticed  window,  said  aloud  to  the  melancholy  inmate,  ''How 
is  it  with  you.  Master  Bridgenorth  ?  (the  knight  would 
never  acknowledge  his  neighbor's  military  rank  of  major)  ;  I 
just  looked  in  to  bid  you  keep  a  good  heart,  man,  and  to 
tell  you  that  Julian  is  well,  and  little  Alice  is  well,  and  all 
are  well  at  Martindale  Castle." 

A  deep  sigh,  sometimes  coupled  with  "I  thank  you.  Sir 
Geoffrey  ;  my  grateful  duty  waits  on  Lady  Peveril,"  was 
generally  Bridgenorth's  only  answer.  But  the  news  was 
received  on  the  one  part  with  the  kindness  which  was  de- 
signed upon  the  other  ;  it  gr? dually  became  less  painful  and 
more  interesting  ;  the  lattice  window  was  never  closed,  nor 
was  the  leathern  easy-chair,  which  stood  next  to  it,  ever 


iO  WA  VERLEY  NO  VEL  S 

empty,  when  the  usual  hour  of  the  baronet's  momentary  visit 
approached.  At  length  the  expectation  of  that  passing 
minute  became  the  pivot  upon  which  the  thoughts  of  poor 
Bridgenorth  turned  during  all  the  rest  of  the  day.  Most 
men  have  known  the  influence  of  such  brief  but  ruling 
moments  at  some  period  of  their  lives.  The  moment  when 
a  lover  passes  the  window  of  his  mistress,  the  moment  when 
the  epicure  hears  the  dinner-bell,  is  that  into  which  is 
crowded  the  whole  interest  of  the  day  ;  the  hours  which 
precede  it  are  spent  in  anticipation,  the  hours  which  follow 
in  reflection  on  what  has  passed  ;  and  fancy,  dwelling  on 
each  brief  circumstance,  gives  to  seconds  the  duration  of 
minutes,  to  minutes  that  of  hours.  Thus,  seated  in  his 
lonely  chair,  Bridgenorth  could  catch  at  a  distance  the 
stately  step  of  Sir  Geoffrey,  or  the  heavy  tramp  of  his  war- 
horse,  Black  Hastings,  which  had  borne  him  in  many  an 
action  :  he  could  hear  the  hum  of  ^'  The  King  shall  enjoy 
his  own  again,*'  or  the  habitual  whistle  of  ^'  Cuckolds  and 
Roundheads,'*  die  into  reverential  silence,  as  the  knight 
approached  the  mansion  of  affliction  ;  and  then  came  the 
strong,  hale  voice  of  the  huntsman-soldier  with  its  usual 
greeting. 

By  degrees  the  communication  became  something  more 
protracted,  as  Major  Bridgenorth's  grief,  like  all  human 
feelings,  lost  its  overwhelming  violence,  and  permitted  him 
to  attend,  in  some  degree,  to  what  passed  around  him,  to 
discharge  various  duties  which  pressed  upon  him,  and  to 
give  a  share  of  attention  to  the  situation  of  the  country, 
distracted  as  it  was  by  the  contending  factions,  whose  strife 
only  terminated  in  the  Eestoration.  Still,  however,  though 
slowly  recovering  from  the  effects  of  the  shock  which  he 
had  sustained.  Major  Bridgenorth  felt  himself  as  yet  unable 
to  make  up  his  mind  to  the  effort  necessary  to  see  his  in- 
fant ;  and  though  separated  by  so  short  a  distance  from  the 
being  in  whose  existence  he  was  more  interested  than 
in  anything  the  world  afforded,  he  only  made  himself 
acquainted  with  the  windows  of  the  apartment  where  little 
Alice  was  lodged,  and  was  often  observed  to  watch  them 
from  the  terrace,  as  they  brightened  in  the  evening  under 
the  influence  of  the  setting  sun.  In  truth,  though  a  strong- 
minded  man  in  most  respects,  he  was  unable  to  lay  aside  the 
gloomy  impression  that  this  remaining  pledge  of  affection 
was  soon  to  be  conveyed  to  that  grave  which  had  already 
devoured  all  besides  that  was  dear  to  him  ;  and  he  awaited 
in  miserable  suspense  the  moment  when  he  should  hear  that 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  H 

symptoms  of  the  fatal   malady  had  begun  to  show  them- 
selves. 

The  voice  of  Peveril  continued  to  be  that  of  a  comforter, 
until  the  month  of  April  1660,  when  it  suddenly  assumed  a 
new  and  different  tone.  ^'  The  King  shall  enjoy  his  own 
again,"  far  from  ceasing,  as  the  hasty  tread  of  Black  Hast- 
ings came  up  the  avenue,  bore  burden  to  the  clatter  of  his 
hoofs  on  the  paved  courtyard,  as  Sir  Geoffrey  sprang  from 
his  great  war-saddle,  now  once  more  garnished  with  pistols 
of  two  feet  in  length,  and,  armed  with  steel-cap,  back  and 
breast,  and  a  truncheon  in  his  hand,  he  rushed  into  the 
apartment  of  the  astonished  major,  with  his  eyes  sparkling 
and  his  cheek  inflamed,  while  he  called  out,  "Up! — up, 
neighbor  !  No  time  now  to  mope  in  the  chimney-corner  ! 
Where  is  your  buff-coat  and  broadsword,  man  ?  Take  the 
true  side  once  in  your  life,  and  mend  past  mistakes.  The 
King  is  all  lenity,  man — all  royal  nature  and  mercy.  I 
will  get  your  full  pardon." 

"  What  means  all  this  ?"  said  Bridgenorth.  "  Is  all  well 
with  you — all  well  at  Martindale  Castle,  Sir  Geoffrey  ?  " 

*^  Well  as  you  could  wish  them,  Alice  and  Julian  and  all. 
Bnt  I  have  news  worth  twenty  of  that.  Monk  has  declared 
at  London  against  those  stinking  scoundrels  the  Rump. 
Fairfax  is  up  in  Yorkshire  for  the  King — for  the  King,  man  ! 
Churchmen,  Presbyterians,  and  all,  are  in  buff  and  bandolier 
for  King  Charles.  I  have  a  letter  from  Fairfax  to  secure 
Derby  and  Chesterfield,  with  all  the  men  I  can  make.  D — n 
him,  fine  that  I  should  take  orders  from  him  !  But  never 
mind  that !  all  are  friends  now,  and  you  and  I,  good  neigh- 
bor, will  charge  abreast,  as  good  neighbors  should.  See 
there  !  read — read — read  :  and  then  boot  and  saddle  in  an 
instant. 

Hey  for  cavaliers,  ho  for  cavaliers, 
Pray  for  cavaliers, 

Dub-a-dub,  dub-a-dub, 
Have  at  old  Beelzebub, 
Oliver  shakes  in  his  bier  I  " 

After  thundering  forth  this  elegant  effusion  of  loyal  en- 
thusiasm, the  sturdy  Cavalier's  heart  became  too  full.  He 
threw  himself  on  a  seat,  and  exclaiming,  "  Did  ever  I  think 
to  live  to  see  this  happy  day  !  "  he  wept,  to  his  own  surprise, 
as  much  as  to  that  of  Bridgenorth. 

Upon  considering  the  crisis  in  which  the  country  was 
placed,  it  appeared  to  Major  Bridgenorth,  as  it  had  done  to 
Fairfax  and  other  leaders  of  the  Presbyterian  party,  that 


i2  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

their  frank  embracing  of  the  Royal  interest  was  the  wisest 
and  most  patriotic  measure  which  ihey  could  adopt  in  the 
circumstances,  when  all  ranks  and  classes  of  men  were  seek- 
ing refuge  from  the  uncertainty  and  varied  oppression  attend- 
ing the  repeated  contests  between  the  factions  of  Westmin- 
ster Hall  and  of  Wallingford  House.  Accordingly,  he  joined 
with  Sir  Geoffrey,  with  less  enthusiasm  indeed,  but  with 
equal  sincerity,  taking  such  measures  as  seemed  proper  tfl 
secure  their  part  of  the  country  on  the  King^s  behalf, 
which  was  done  as  effectually  and  peaceably  as  in  other  parts 
of  England.  The  neighbors  were  both  at  Chesterfield  when 
news  arrived  that  the  King  had  landed  in  England  ;  and  Sir 
Geoffrey  instantly  announced  his  purpose  of  waiting  upon 
his  Majesty,  even  before  his  return  to  the  Castle  of  Martin  dale. 

*'  Who  knows,  neighbor,"  he  said,  "  whether  Sir  Geoffrey 
Peveril  will  ever  return  to  Martindale  ?  Titles  must  be  going 
amongst  them  yonder,  and  I  have  deserved  something  among 
the  rest.  Lord  Peveril  would  sound  well — or  stay,  Earl  of 
Martindale — no,  not  of  Martindale — Earl  of  the  Peak.  Mean- 
while, trust  your  affairs  to  me — I  will  see  you  secured.  I 
would  you  had  been  no  Presbyterian,  neighbor — a  knighthood 
— I  mean  a  knight-bachelor,  not  a  knight-baronet — would 
have  served  your  turn  well." 

''  I  leave  these  thing  to  my  betters,  Sir  Geoffrey,"  said  the 
major,  ''and  desire  nothing  so  earnestly  as  to  find  all  well 
at  Martindale  when  I  return." 

'*  You  will — you  will  find  them  all  well,"  said  the  baronet 
— *'  Julian,  Alice,  Lady  Peveril,  and  all  of  them.  Bear  my 
commendations  to  them,  and  kiss  them  all,  neighbor.  Lady 
Peveril  and  all ;  you  may  kiss  a  countess  when  I  come  back- 
all  will  go  well  with  you  now  vou  are  turned  honest  man." 

'*  I  always  meant  to  be  so.  Sir  Geoffrey,"  said  Bridgenorth, 
calmly. 

''Well — well — well,  no  offense  meant  "  said  the  knight 
"  all  is  well  now  ;  so  you  to  Moultrassie  Hall,  and  I  to  White- 
hall. Said  I  well,  aha  ?  So  ho,  mine  host,  a  stoup  of  canary 
to  the  King's  health  ere  we  get  to  horse.  I  forgot,  neighbor, 
you  drink  no  healths." 

"I  wish  the  King's  health  as  sincerely  as  if  I  drank  a 
gallon  to  it,"  replied  the  major,  "  and  I  wish  you.  Sii 
Geoffrey,  all  success  on  your  journey,  and  a  safe  return." 


CHAPTER  n 

Why  then,  we  will  have  bellowing  of  beeves, 
Broaching  of  barrels,  brandishing  of  spigots ; 
Blood  shall  flow  freely,  but  it  shall  be  gore 
Of  herds  and  flocks,  and  venison  and  poultry, 
Join'd  to  the  brave  heart's-blood  of  John-a-Barleycorn  ? 

Old  Play. 

Whatever  rewards  Charles  niight  have  condescended  to 
bestow  in  acknowledgment  of  the  sufferings  and  loyalty  of 
Peveril  of  the  Peak,  he  had  none  in  his  disposal  equal  to  the 
pleasure  which  Providence  had  reserved  for  Bridgenorth  on 
his  return  to  Derbyshire.  The  exertion  to  which  he  had 
been  summoned  had  had  the  usual  effect  of  restoring  to  a 
certain  extent  the  activity  and  energy  of  his  character,  and 
he  felt  it  would  be  unbecoming  to  relapse  into  the  state  of 
lethargic  melancholy  from  which  it  had  roused  him.  Time 
also  had  its  usual  effect  in  mitigating  the  subjects  of  his 
regret  ;  and  when  he  had  passed  one  day  at  the  hall  in  re- 
gretting that  he  could  not  exjject  the  indirect  news  of  his 
daughter's  health  which  Sir  Geoffrey  used  to  communicate  in 
his  almost  daily  call,  he  reflected  that  it  would  be  in  every 
respect  becoming  that  he  should  pay  a  personal  visit  at 
Martindale  Castle,  carry  thither  the  remembrances  of  the 
knight  to  his  lady,  assure  her  of  his  health,  and  satisfy  him- 
self respecting  that  of  his  daughter.  He  armed  himself  for 
the  worst  :  he  called  to  recollection  the  thin  cheeks,  faded 
eye,  wasted  hand,  pallid  lip,  which  had  marked  the  decaying 
health  of  all  his  former  infants. 

''  I  shall  see,''  he  said,  '^  these  signs  of  mortality  once 
more  :  I  shall  once  more  see  a  beloved  being  to  whom  I  have 
given  birth  gliding  to  the  grave  which  ought  to  inclose  me 
long  before  her.  No  matter  !  it  is  unmanly  so  long  to  shrink 
from  that  which  must  be — God's  will  be  done  ! " 

He  went  accordingly,  on  the  subsequent  morning,  to  Mar- 
tindale Castle,  and  gave  the  lady  the  welcome  assurances  of 
her  husband's  safety,  and  of  his  hopes  of  preferment. 

"'  For  the  first,  may  Almighty  God  be  praised  ! "  said  the 
Lady  Peveril  ;  ''  and  be  the  other  as  our  gracious  and  re- 
stored sovereign  may  will  it.     We  are  great  enough  for  our 

IS 


14  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

means,  and  have  means  sufficient  for  contentment,  though 
not  for  splendor.  And  now  I  see,  good  Master  Bridgenorth, 
the  folly  of  putting  faith  in  idle  presentiments  of  evil.  So 
often  had  Sir  Geoffrey's  repeated  attempts  in  favor  of  the 
Stuarts  led  him  into  new  misfortunes,  that  when,  the  other 
morning,  I  saw  him  once  more  dressed  in  his  fatal  aa-mor, 
and  heard  the  sound  of  his  trumpet,  which  had  been  so  long 
silent,  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  I  saw  his  shroud  and  heard  his 
death-knell.  I  say  this  to  you,  good  neighbor,  the  rather 
because  I  fear  your  own  mind  has  been  harassed  with  antici- 
pations of  impending  calamity,  which  it  may  please  God  to 
avert  in  your  case  as  it  has  done  in  mine  ;  and  here  comes  a 
sight  which  bears  good  assurance  of  it.'' 

The  door  of  the  apartment  opened  as  she  spoke,  and  two 
lovely  children  entered.  The  eldest,  Julian  Peveril,  a  fine 
boy  betwixt  four  and  five  years  old,  led  in  his  hand,  with  an 
air  of  dignified  support  and  attention,  a  little  girl  of  eigh- 
teen months,  who  rolled  and  tottered  along,  keeping  herself 
with  difficulty  upright  by  the  assistance  of  her  elder,  stronger, 
and  masculine  companion. 

Bridgenorth  cast  a  hasty  and  fearful  glance  upon  the 
countenance  of  his  daughter,  and,  even  in  that  glimpse, 
perceived,  with  exquisite  delight,  that  his  fears  were  un- 
founded. He  caught  her  in  his  arms,  pressed  her  to  his 
heart,  and  the  child,  though  at  first  alarmed  at  the  vehe- 
mence of  his  caresses,  presently,  as  if  prompted  by  nature, 
smiled  in  reply  to  them.  Again  he  held  her  at  some  distance 
from  him,  and  examined  her  more  attentively  ;  he  satisfied 
himself  that  the  complexion  of  the  young  cherub  he  had  in 
his  arms  was  not  the  heretic  tinge  of  disease,  but  the  clear 
hue  of  ruddy  health  ;  and  that,  though  her  little  frame  was 
slight,  it  was  firm  and  springy. 

"  I  did  not  think  that  it  could  have  been  thus,"  he  said, 
looking  to  Lady  Peveril,  who  had  sat  observing  the  scene 
with  great  pleasure  ;  '^  but  praise  be  to  God  in  the  first  in- 
stance, and  next,  thanks  to  you,  madam,  who  have  been  His 
instrument." 

*'  Julian  must  lose  his  playfellow  now,  I  suppose  ?  "  said 
the  lady  ;  ''  but  the  hall  is  not  distant,  and  I  will  see  my 
little  charge  often.  Dame  Martha,  the  housekeeper  at 
Moultrassie,  has  sense,  and  is  careful.  I  will  tell  her  the 
rules  I  have  observed  with  little  Alice,  and " 

''  God  forbid  my  girl  should  ever  come  to  Moultrassie," 
said  Major  Bridgenorth,  hastily  ;  ''  it  has  been  the  grave  of 
her  race.     The  air  of  the  low  grounds  suited  them  not ;  or 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  16 

there  is  perhaps  a  fate  connected  with  the  mansion.  I  will 
seek  for  her  some  other  place  of  abode. 

''  That  you  shall  not,  under  your  favor  be  it  spoken,  Major 
Bridgenorth/'  answered  the  lady.  "^  If  you  do  so,  we  must 
suppose  that  you  are  undervaluing  my  qualities  as  a  nurse. 
If  she  goes  not  to  her  father's  house,  she  shall  not  quit  mine. 
I  will  keep  the  little  lady  as  a  pledge  of  her  safety  and  my 
own  skill  ;  and  since  you  are  afraid  of  the  damp  of  the  low 
grounds,  I  hope  you  will  come  here  frequently  to  visit  her.'^ 

This  was  a  proposal  which  went  to  the  heart  of  Major 
Bridgenorth.  It  was  precisely  the  point  which  he  would 
have  given  worlds  to  arrive  at,  but  which  he  saw  no  chance 
of  attaining. 

It  is  too  well  known  that  those  whose  families  are  long 
pursued  by  such  a  fatal  disease  as  existed  in  his  become,  it 
may  be  said,  superstitious  respecting  its  fatal  effects,  and 
ascribe  to  place,  circumstance,  and  individual  care  much 
more  perhaps  than  these  can  in  any  case  contribute  to  avert 
the  fatality  of  constitutional  distemper.  Lady  Peveril  was 
aware  that  this  was  peculiarly  the  impression  of  her  neigh- 
bor ;  that  the  depression  of  his  spirits,  the  excess  of  his  care, 
the  feverishness  of  his  apprehensions,  the  restraint  and 
gloom  of  the  solitude  in  which  he  dwelt,  were  really  calcu- 
lated to  produce  the  evil  which  most  of  all  he  dreaded.  She 
pitied  him,  she  felt  for  him,  she  was  grateful  for  former 
protection  received  at  his  hands,  she  had  become  interested 
in  the  child  itself.  What  female  fails  to  feel  such  interest 
in  the  helpless  creature  she  has  tended  ?  And  to  sum  the 
whole  up,  the  dame  had  a  share  of  human  vanity  ;  and  be- 
ing a  sort  of  Lady  Bountiful  in  her  way,  for  the  character 
was  not  then  confined  to  the  old  and  the  foolish,  she  was 
proud  of  the  skill  by  which  she  had  averted  the  probable 
attacks  of  hereditary  malady,  so  inveterate  in  the  family  of 
Bridgenorth.  It  needed  not,  perhaps,  in  other  cases,  that 
so  many  reasons  should  be  assigned  for  an  act  of  neighborly 
humanity ;  but  civil  war  had  so  lately  torn  the  country 
asunder,  and  broken  all  the  usual  ties  of  vicinage  and  good 
neighborhood,  that  it  was  unusual  to  see  them  preserved 
among  persons  of  different  political  opinions. 

Major  Bridgenorth  himself  felt  this  ;  and  while  the  tear 
of  joy  in  his  eye  showed  how  gladly  he  would  accept  Lady 
Peveril's  proposal,  he  could  not  help  stating  the  obvious  in- 
conveniences attendant  upon  her  scheme,  though  it  was  in 
the  tone  of  one  who  would  gladly  hear  them  overruled. 
^'  Madam,''  he  said,  "  your  kindness  makes  me  the  happiest 


16  WA VEBLEY  I^OVELS 

and  most  thankful  of  men  ;  but  can  it  be  consistent  with 
your  own  convenience  ?  Sir  Geoffrey  has  his  opinions  on 
many  points  which  have  differed,  and  probably  do  still  dif- 
fer, from  mine.  He  is  high-born,  and  I  of  middling  parent- 
age  only.  He  uses  the  Church  Service,  and  I  the  catechism 
of  the  Assembly  of  Divines  at  Westminster " 

*'  I  hope  you  will  find  prescribed  in  neither  of  them/* 
said  the  Lady  Peveril,  '^  that  I  may  not  be  a  mother  to  youi 
motherless  child.  I  trust.  Master  Bridgenorth,  the  joyfui 
Restoration  of  his  Majesty,  a  work  wrought  by  the  direct 
hand  of  Providence,  may  be  the  means  of  closing  and  heal- 
ing all  civil  and  religious  dissensions  among  us,  and  that, 
instead  of  showing  the  superior  purity  of  our  faith,  by  per- 
secuting those  who  think  otherwise  from  ourselves  on  doc- 
trinal points,  we  shall  endeavor  to  show  its  real  Christian 
tendency,  by  emulating  each  other  in  actions  of  good-will 
towards  man,  as  the  best  way  of  showing  our  love  to  God/' 

"  Your  ladyship  speaks  what  your  own  kind  heart  dic- 
tates,^' answered  Bridgenorth,  who  had  his  own  share  of  the 
narrow-mindedness  of  the  time  ;  "and  sure  am  I,  that  if  all 
who  call  themselves  loyalists  and  Cavaliers  thought  like  you 
— and  like  my  friend  Sir  Geoffrey  (this  he  added  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause,  being  perhaps  rather  complimentary  than  sin- 
cere), we,  who  thought  it  our  duty  in  time  past  to  take 
arms  for  freedom  of  conscience,  and  against  arbitrary  power, 
might  now  sit  down  in  peace  and  contentment.  But  I  wot 
not  how  it  may  fall.  You  have  sharp  and  hot  spirits 
amongst  you  ;  I  will  not  say  our  power  was  always  moder- 
ately nsed,  and  revenge  is  sweet  to  the  race  of  fallen  Adam." 

''  Come,  Master  Bridgenorth,"  said  the  Lady  Peveril, 
gaily,  "  these  evil  omenings  do  but  point  out  conclusions 
which,  unless  they  were  so  anticipated,  are  most  unlikely  to 
come  to  pass.     You  know  what  Shakspeare  says — 

To  fly  the  boar  before  the  boar  pursues 
Were  to  incense  the  boar  to  follow  us, 
And  make  pursuit  when  he  did  mean  no  chase. 

Bat  I  crave  your  pardon  ;  it  is  so  long  since  we  have  met 
that  I  forgot  you  love  no  play-books." 

''  With  reverence  to  your  ladyship,'*  said  Bridgenorth,  *'  I 
were  much  to  blame  did  I  need  the  idle  words  of  a  War- 
wickshire stroller  to  teach  me  my  grateful  duty  to  your 
ladyship  on  this  occasion,  which  appoints  me  to  be  directed 
by  you  in  all  things  which  my  conscience  will  permit." 

**  Since  you  allow  me  such  influence,  then,'"'  replied  the 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  17 

Lady  Peveril,  '^  I  shall  be  moderate  in  exercising  it,  in 
order  that  I  may,  in  my  domination  at  least,  give  you  a  fa- 
vorable impression  of  the  new  order  of  things.  So,  if  you 
will  be  a  subject  of  mine  for  one  day,  neighbor,  I  am  going, 
at  my  lord  and  husband^s  command,  to  issue  out  my  war- 
rants to  invite  the  whole  neighborhood  to  a  solemn  feast  at 
the  castle  on  Thursday  next ;  and  I  not  only  pray  you  to  be 
personally  present  yourself,  but  to  prevail  on  your  worthy 
pastor  and  such  neighbors  and  friends,  high  and  low,  as  may 
think  in  your  own  way,  to  meet  with  the  rest  of  the  neigh- 
borhood, to  rejoice  on  this  joyful  occasion  of  the  King's 
Restoration,  and  thereby  to  show  that  we  are  to  be  hence- 
forward a  united  people." 

The  Parliamentarian  major  was  considerably  embarrassed 
by  this  proposal.  He  looked  upwards  and  downwards  and 
around,  cast  his  eye  first  to  the  oak-carved  ceiling,  and  anon 
fixed  it  upon  the  floor  ;  then  threw  it  around  the  room  till 
it  lighted  on  his  child,  the  sight  of  whom  suggested  another 
and  a  better  train  of  reflections  than  ceiling  and  floor  had 
been  able  to  supply. 

'*  Madam,''  he  said,  "  I  have  long  been  a  stranger  to  festi- 
vity, perhaps  from  constitutional  melancholy,  perhaps  from 
the  depression  which  is  natural  to  a  desolate  and  deprived 
man,  in  whose  ear  mirth  is  marred,  like  a  pleasant  air  when 
performed  on  a  mistuned  instrument.  But  though  neither 
my  thoughts  nor  temperament  are  jovial  or  mercurial,  it  be- 
comes me  to  be  grateful  to  Heaven  for  the  good  He  has  sent 
me  by  the  means  of  your  ladyship.  David,  the  man  after 
God's  own  heart,  did  wash  and  eat  bread  when  his  beloved 
child  was  removed  ;  mine  is  restored  to  me,  and  shall  I  not 
show  gratitude  under  a  blessing,  when  he  showed  resignation 
under  an  affliction  ?  Madam,  I  will  wait  on  your  gracious 
invitation  with  acceptance,  and  such  of  my  friends  with 
whom  I  may  possess  influence,  and  whose  presence  your  lady- 
ship may  desire,  shall  accompany  me  to  the  festivity,  that 
our  Israel  may  be  as  one  people." 

Having  spoken  these  words  with  an  aspect  which  belonged 
more  to  a  martyr  than  to  a  guest  bidden  to  a  festival,  and 
having  kissed  and  solemnly  blessed  his  little  girl,  Majof 
Bridgenorth  took  his  departure  for  Moultrassie  Hall. 


CHAPTER  III 

Here's  neither  want  of  appetite  nor  mouths ; 
Pray  Heaven  we  be  not  scant  of  meat  or  mirth 

Old  Play, 

Even  upon  ordinary  occasions,  and  where  means  were  am* 
pie,  a  great  entertainment  in  those  days  was  not  such  a 
sinecure  as  in  modern  times,  when  the  lady  who  presides  has 
but  to  intimate  to  her  menials  the  day  and  hour  when  she 
wills  it  to  take  place.  At  that  simple  period,  the  lady  was 
expected  to  enter  deeply  into  the  arrangement  and  provision 
of  the  whole  affair  ;  and  from  a  little  gallery,  which  commu- 
nicated with  her  own  private  apartment,  and  looked  down 
upon  the  kitchen,  her  shrill  voice  was  to  be  heard,  from  time 
to  time,  like  that  of  the  warning  spirit  in  a  tempest,  rising 
above  the  clash  of  pots  and  stew-pans,  the  creaking  of  spits, 
the  clattering  of  marrow-bones  and  cleavers,  the  scolding  of 
cooks,  and  all  the  other  various  kinds  of  din  which  form  an 
accompaniment  to  dressing  a  large  dinner. 

But  all  this  toil  and  anxiety  was  more  than  doubled  in  the 
case  of  the  approaching  feast  at  Martindale  Castle,  where 
the  presiding  genius  of  the  festivity  was  scarce  provided  with 
adequate  means  to  carry  her  hospitable  purpose  into  effect. 
The  tyrannical  conduct  of  husbands,  in  such  cases,  is 
universal  ;  and  I  scarce  know  one  householder  of  my  acquain- 
tance who  has  not,  on  some  ill-omened  and  most  inconvenient 
season,  announced  suddenly  to  his  innocent  helpmate  that 
he  had  invited 

Some  odious  Major  Rock, 

To  drop  in  at  six  o'clock, 

to  the  great  discomposure  of  the  lady,  and  the  discredit,  per- 
haps, of  her  domestic  arrangements. 

Peveril  of  the  Peak  was  still  more  thoughtless  ;  for  he  had 
directed  his  lady  to  invite  the  whole  honest  men  of  the 
neighborhood  to  make  good  cheer  at  Martindale  Castle,  in 
honor  of  the  Messed  Restoration  of  his  most  sacred  Majesty, 
without  precisely  explaining  where  the  provisions  were  to 
come  from.  The  deer-park  had  lain  waste  ever  since  the 
giege  :  the  dovecot  could  do  little  to  furnish  forth  such  ac 

18 


I 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  19 

ontertainment  ;  the  fish-ponds,  it  is  true,  were  well  provided 
(which  the  neighboring  Presbyterians  noted  as  a  suspicious 
circumstance),  and  game  was  to  be  had  for  the  shooting  upon 
the  extensive  heaths  and  hills  of  Derbyshire.  But  these 
were  only  the  secondary  parts  of  a  banquet ;  and  the  house- 
steward  and  bailiff.  Lady  PeveriFs  only  coadjutors  and  coun- 
selors, could  not  agree  how  the  butcher-meat — the  most  sub- 
stantial part,  or,  as  it  were,  the  main  body  of  the  entertain- 
ment— was  to  be  supplied.  The  house-steward  threatened 
the  sacrifice  of  a  fine  yoke  of  young  bullocks,  which  the 
bailiff,  who  pleaded  the  necessity  of  their  agricultural  ser- 
vices, tenaciously  resisted  ;  and  Lady  PeveriFs  good  and 
dutiful  nature  did  not  prevent  her  from  making  some  impa- 
tient reflections  on  the  want  of  consideration  of  her  absent 
knight,  who  had  thus  thoughtlessly  placed  her  in  so  embar- 
rassing a  situation. 

These  reflections  were  scarcely  just,  if  a  man  is  only  re- 
sponsible for  such  resolutions  as  he  adopts  when  he  is  fully 
master  of  himself.  Sir  Geoffrey^s  loyalty,  like  that  of  many 
persons  in  his  situation,  had,  by  dint  of  hopes  and  fears, 
victories  and  defeats,  struggles  and  sufferings,  all  arising  out 
of  the  same  moving  cause,  and  turning,  as  it  were,  on  the  same 
pivot,  acquired  the  character  of  an  intense  and  enthusiastic 
passion  ;  and  the  singular  and  surprising  change  of  fortune, 
by  which  his  highest  wishes  were  not  only  gratified  but  far 
exceeded,  occasioned  for  some  time  a  kind  of  intoxication  of 
loyal  rapture  which  seemed  to  prevade  the  whole  kingdom. 
Sir  Geoffrey  had  seen  Charles  and  his  brother,  and  had  been 
received  by  the  merry  monarch  with  that  graceful,  and  at 
the  same  time  frank,  urbanity  by  which  he  conciliated  all 
who  approached  him  ;  the  knight's  services  and  merits  had 
been  fully  acknowledged,  and  recompense  had  been  hinted  at, 
if  not  expressly  promised.  Was  it  for  Peveril  of  the  Peak, 
in  the  jubilee  of  his  spirits,  to  consider  how  his  wife  was  to 
find  beef  and  mutton  to  feast  his  neighbors  ? 

Luckily,  however,  for  the  embarrassed  lady,  there  existed 
some  one  who  had  composure  of  mind  sufficient  to  foresee 
this  difficulty.  Just  as  she  had  made  up  her  mind,  very  re- 
luctantly, to  become  debtor  to  Major  Bridgenorth  for  the 
sum  necessary  to  carry  her  husband's  commands  into  effect, 
and  whilst  she  was  bitterly  regretting  this  departure  from 
the  strictness  of  her  usual  economy,  the  steward,  who  by 
the  by,  had  not  been  absolutely  sober  since  the  news  of 
the  King's  landing  at  Dover,  burst  into  the  apartment, 
snapping  his  fingers,  and  showing  more  marks  of  delight 


20  WA  VEBLEY  NO  rELS 

than  was  quite  consistant  with  the  dignity  of  my  lady'a 
large  parlor. 

'*  What  means  this,  Whitaker  ?"  said  the  lady,  somewhat 
peevishly  ;  for  she  was  interrupted  in  the  commencement  of 
a  letter  to  her  neighbor  on  the  unpleasant  business  of  the 
proposed  loan.  '^Is  it  to  be  always  thus  with  you  ?  Are 
you  dreaming  ?  " 

'^  A  vision  of  good  omen,  I  trust,"  said  the  steward,  with 
a  triumphant  flourish  of  the  hand;  '^  far  better  than  Pharaoh^ 
though,  like  his,  it  be  of  fat  kine." 

"  I  prithee  be  plain,  man,-*'  said  the  lady,  "  or  fetch  some 
one  who  can  speak  to  purpose." 

"  Why,  odds-my-life,  madam,"  said  the  steward,  '^  mine 
errand  can  speak  for  itself.  Do  you  not  hear  them  low  ? 
Do  you  not  hear  them  bleat  ?  A  yoke  of  fat  oxen,  and  half 
a  score  prime  wethers.  The  castle  is  victualled  for  this 
bout,  let  them  storm  when  they  will  ;  and  Gatherill  may 
have  his  d — d  mains  plowed  to  the  boot." 

The  lady,  without  farther  questioning  her  elated  domestic, 
rose  and  went  to  the  window,  where  she  certainly  beheld  the 
oxen  and  sheep  which  had  given  rise  to  Whitaker's  exultation. 
''  Whence  come  they  ?  "  said  she,  in  some  surprise. 

*' Let  them  construe  that  who  can,"  answered  Whitaker  ; 
^'the  fellow  who  drove  them  was  a  west-countryman,  and 
only  said  they  came  from  a  friend  to  help  to  furnish  out  your 
ladyship's  entertainment.  The  man  would  not  stay  to  drink  ; 
I  am  sorry  he  would  not  stay  to  drink — I  crave  your  lady 
ship's  pardon  for  not  keeping  him  by  the  ears  to  drink  ;  it 
was  not  my  fault." 

*'  That  I'll  be  sworn  it  was  not,"  said  the  lady. 

"Nay,  madam,  by  Gr — ,  I  assure  you  it  was  not,'  said  the 
zealous  steward  ;  "  for,  rather  than  the  castle  should  lose 
credit,  I  drank  his  health  myself  in  double  ale,  though  I  had 
had  my  morning  draught  already.  I  tell  you  the  naked 
truth,  my  lady,  by  G— !  " 

"  It  was  no  great  compulsion,  I  suppose,"  said  the  lady  ; 
'^  but,  Whitaker,  suppose  you  should  show  your  joy  on  such 
occasions  by  drinking  and  swearing  a  little  less,  rather  than 
a  little  more,  would  it  not  be  as  well  think  you  ?" 

"I  crave  your  ladyship's  pardon,"  said  Whitaker,  with 
much  reverence ;  "I  hope  I  know  my  place.  I  am  your 
ladyship's  poor  servant ;  and  I  know  it  does  not  become  me 
to  drink  and  swear  like  your  ladyship — that  is,  like  his  lienor. 
Sir  Geoifrey,  I  would  say.  But  I  pray  you,  if  I  am  not  to 
drink   and  swear  after  my  degree,  how  are  men  to  know 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  fil 

Peveril  of  the  Peak's  steward — and  I  may  say  butler  too, 
since  I  have  had  the  keys  of  the  cellar  ever  since  old  Spigots 
was  shot  dead  on  the  northwest  turret,  with  a  black-jack  in 
his  hand — I  say,  how  is  an  old  Cavalier  like  me  to  be  known 
from  those  cuckoldy  Eoundheads  that  do  nothing  but  fast 
and  pray,  if  we  are  not  to  drink  and  swear  according  to  our 
degree  ?  " 

The  lady  was  silent,  for  she  well  knew  speech  availed 
nothing  ;  and,  after  a  mementos  pause,  proceeded  to  intimate 
to  the  steward  that  she  would  have  the  persons  whose  names 
were  marked  in  a  written  paper,  which  she  delivered  to  him, 
invited  to  the  approaching  banquet. 

Whitaker,  instead  of  receiving  the  list  with  the  mute  ac- 
quiescence of  a  modern  major-domo,  carried  it  into  the  recess 
of  one  of  the  windows,  and,  adjusting  his  spectacles,  began 
to  read  to  himself.  The  first  names,  being  those  of  distin- 
guished Cavalier  families  in  the  neighborhood,  he  muttered 
over  in  a  tone  of  approbation — paused  and  pshawed  at  that 
of  Rridgenorth — yet  acquiesced,  with  the  observation,  ^*But 
he  is  a  good  neighbor,  so  it  may  pass  for  once."  But  when 
he  read  the  name  and  surname  of  Nehemiah  Solsgrace,  the 
Presbyterian  parson,  Whitaker's  patience  altogether  forsook 
him  ;  and  he  declared  he  would  as  soon  throw  himself  into 
Eldon  Hole  as  consent  that  the  intrusive  old  Puritan  howlet, 
who  had  usurped  the  pulpit  of  a  sound  orthodox  divine, 
should  ever  darken  the  gates  of  Martindale  Castle  by  any 
message  or  mediation  of  his.  **Tbe  false,  crop-eared  hypo- 
crites,'' cried  he,  with  a  hearty  oath,  '^  have  had  their  turn 
of  the  good  weather.  The  sun  is  on  our  side  of  the  hedge 
now,  and  we  will  pay  off  old  scores,  as  sure  as  my  name  is 
Richard  Whitaker!" 

'^  You  presume  on  your  long  services,  Whitaker,  and  on 
your  master's  absence,  or  you  had  not  dared  to  use  me  thus," 
said  the  lady. 

The  unwonted  agitation  of  her  voice  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  the  refactory  steward,  notwithstanding  his  present 
state  of  elevation  ;  but  he  no  sooner  saw  that  her  eye  glis- 
tened and  her  cheek  reddened  than  his  obstinacy  was  at  once 
subdued. 

*' A  murrain  on  me,"  he  said,  ''  but  I  have  made  my  lady 
angry  in  good  earnest !  and  that  is  an  unwonted  sight  for  to 
see.  I  crave  your  pardon,  my  lady  !  It  was  not  poor  Dick 
Whitaker  disputed  your  honorable  commands,  but  only  that 
second  draught  of  double  ale.  We  have  put  a  double  stroke 
©f  malt  to  it,  as  your  ladyship  well  knows,  ever  since  the 


22  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

happy  restoration.  To  be  sure,  I  hate  a  fanatic  as  I  do  the 
cloven  foot  of  Satan  ;  but  then  your  honorable  ladyship  hath 
a  right  to  invite  Satan  himself,  cloven  foot  and  all,  to  Mar- 
tindale  Oastle  ;  and  to  send  me  to  helFs  gate  with  a  billet  of 
invitation — and  so  your  v/ill  shall  be  done/' 

The  invitations  were  sent  round  accordingly,  in  all  due 
form  ;  and  one  of  the  bullocks  was  sent  down  to  be  roasted 
whole  at  the  market-place  of  a  little  village  called  Martindale- 
Moultrassie,  which  stood  considerably  to  the  eastward  both 
of  the  castle  and  hall,  from  which  it  took  its  double  name, 
at  about  an  equal  distance  from  both  ;  so  that,  suppose  a  line 
drawn  from  the  one  manor-house  to  the  other  to  be  the  base 
of  a  triangle,  the  village  would  have  occupied  the  salient 
angle.  As  the  said  village,  since  the  late  transference  of  a 
part  of  PeveriFs  property,  belonged  to  Sir  Geoffrey  and  to 
Bridgenorth  in  nearly  equal  portions,  the  lady  judged  it  not 
proper  to  dispute  the  right  of  the  latter  to  add  some  hogs- 
heads  of  beer  to  the  popular  festivity. 

In  the  meanwhile,  she  could  not  but  suspect  the  major  of 
being  the  unknown  friend  who  had  relieved  her  from  the 
dilemma  arising  from  the  want  of  provisions  ;  and  she 
esteemed  herself  happy  when  a  visit  from  him,  on  the  day  pre- 
ceding the  proposed  entertainment,  gave  her,  as  she  thought, 
an  opportunity  of  expressing  her  gratitude. 


CHAPTER  IV 

No,  sir,  I  will  not  pledge  ;  I'm  one  of  those 
Who  think  good  wine  needs  neither  bush  nor  preface 
To  make  it  welcome.     If  you  doubt  my  word, 
Fill  the  quart-cup,  and  see  if  I  will  choke  on't. 

Old  Play. 

Theee  was  a  serious  gravity  of  expression  in  the  disclama- 
tion with  which  Major  Bridgenorth  replied  to  the  thanks 
tendered  to  him  by  Lady  Peveril  for  the  supply  of  provisions 
which  had  reached  her  castle  so  opportunely.  He  seemed 
first  not  to  be  aware  what  she  alluded  to  ;  and  when  she  ex- 
plained the  circumstance,  he  protested  so  seriously  that  he 
had  no  share  in  the  benefit  conferred  that  Lady  Peveril  was 
compelled  to  believe  him  ;  the  rather  that,  being  a  man  of  a 
plain  downright  character,  affecting  no  refined  delicacy  of 
sentiment,  and  practising  almost  a  Quaker-like  sincerity  of 
expression,  it  would  have  been  much  contrary  to  his  general 
character  to  have  made  such  a  disavowal,  unless  it  were 
founded  in  truth. 

''  My  present  visit  to  you,  madam, '^  said  he,  "  had  indeed 
some  reference  to  the  festivity  of  to-morrow."  Lady  Peveril 
listened,  but  as  her  visitor  seemed  to  find  some  difficulty  in 
expressing  himself,  she  was  compelled  to  ask  an  explanation. 
'*  Madam,"  said  the  major,  *'  you  are  not  perhaps  entirely 
ignorant  that  the  more  tender-conscienced  among  us  have 
scruples  at  certain  practises,  so  general  amongst  your  people 
at  times  of  rejoicing  that  you  may  be  said  to  insist  upon 
them  as  articles  of  faith,  or  at  least  greatly  to  resent  their 
omission." 

'^  I  trust,  Master  Bridgenorth,"  said  the  Lady  Peveril,  not 
fully  comprehending  the  drift  of  his  discourse,  'Hhat  we 
shall,  as  your  entertainers,  carefully  avoid  all  allusions  or 
reproaches  founded  on  past  misunderstanding." 

''  We  would  expect  no  less,  madam,  from  your  candor  and 
courtesy,"  said  Bridgenorth ;  "  but  I  perceive  you  do  not 
fully  understand  me.  To  be  plain,  then,  I  allude  to  the 
fashion  of  drinking  healths,  and  pledging  each  other  in 
draughts  of  strong  liquor,  which  most  among  us  consider  as 
a  superfluous  and  sinful  provoking  of  each  other   to   de- 


24  WAV£)KLEY  NOVELS 

bauchery,  and  the  excessive  use  of  strong  drink  ;  and  whicli, 
besides,  if  derived,  as  learned  divines  have  supposed,  from 
the  custom  of  the  blinded  pagans,  who  made  libations  and 
invoked  idols  when  they  drank,  may  be  justly  said  to  have 
something  in  it  heathenish,  and  allied  to  demon-worship/' 

The  lady  had  already  hastily  considered  all  the  topics 
which  were  likely  to  introduce  discord  into  the  proposed 
festivity ;  but  this  very  ridiculous,  yet  fatal,  discrepancy 
betwixt  the  manners  of  the  parties  on  convivial  occasions  had 
entirely  escaped  her.  She  endeavored  to  soothe  the  object- 
ing party,  whose  brows  were  knit  like  one  who  had  fixed  an 
opinion  by  which  he  was  determined  to  abide. 

"I  grant,"  she  said,  '^  my  good  neighbor,  that  this  custom 
is  at  least  idle,  and  may  be  prejudicial  if  it  leads  to  excess  in 
the  use  of  liquor,  which  is  apt  enough  to  take  place  without 
such  conversation.  But  I  think,  when  it  hath  not  this  con- 
sequence, it  is  a  thing  indifferent,  affords  a  unanimous  mode 
of  expressing  our  good  wishes  to  our  friends  and  our  loyal 
duty  to  our  sovereign  ;  and,  without  meaning  to  put  any 
force  upon  the  inclination  of  those  who  believe  otherwise,  I 
cannot  see  how  I  can  deny  my  guests  and  friends  the  privilege 
of  drinking  a  health  to  the  King,  or  to  my  husband,  after 
the  old  English  fashion." 

^*  My  lady,"  said  the  major,  '^if  the  age  of  fashion  were 
to  command  it.  Popery  is  one  of  the  oldest  English  fashions 
that  I  have  heard  of  ;  but  it  is  our  happiness  that  we  are  not 
benighted  like  our  fathers,  and  therefore  we  must  act  ac- 
cording to  the  light  that  is  in  us,  and  not  after  their  dark- 
ness. I  had  myself  the  honor  to  attend  the  Lord-Keepet 
Whitelocke,  when,  at  the  table  of  the  chamberlain  of  the 
kingdom  of  Sweden,  he  did  positively  refuse  to  pledge  the 
health  of  his  queen,  Christina,  thereby  giving  great  offense 
and  putting  in  peril  the  whole  purpose  of  that  voyage ; 
which  it  is  not  to  be  thought  so  wise  a  man  would  have  done, 
,but  that  he  held  such  compliance  a  thing  not  merely 
indifferent,  but  rather  sinful  and  damnable." 

''  With  all  respect  to  Whitelocke,"  said  the  Lady  Peveril, 
*'  I  continue  of  my  own  opinion,  though,  Heaven  knows,  I 
am  no  friend  to  riot  or  wassail.  I  would  fain  accommodate 
myself  to  your  scruples,  and  will  discourage  all  other  pledges  ; 
but  surely  those  of  the  King  and  of  Peveril  of  the  Peak  may 
be  permitted." 

'^  I  dare  not,"  answered  Bridgenorth,  "  lay  even  the  ninety- 
ninth  part  of  a  grain  of  incense  upon  an  altar  erected  te 
Satan.^' 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  25 

''How,  sir!'^  said  the  lady;  "do  you  bring  Satan  into 
comparison  with  our  master  King  Charles  and  with  my  noble 
lord  and  husband  ?" 

"  Pardon  me,  madam,^^  answered  Bridgenorth,  "  I  have  no 
such  thoughts — indeed  they  would  ill  become  me.  I  do 
wish  the  King's  health  and  Sir  Geoffrey's  devoutly,  and  1 
will  pray  for  both.  But  I  see  not  what  good  it  should  do 
their  health  if  I  should  prejudice  my  own  by  quaffing  pledges 
out  of  quart  flagons.'' 

"  Since  we  cannot  agree  upon  this  matter,"  said  Lady 
Peveril,  "  we  must  find  some  resource  by  which  to  offend 
those  of  neither  party.  Suppose  you  winked  at  our  friends 
drinking  these  pledges,  and  we  should  connive  at  your  sit- 
ting still  ?  " 

But  neither  would  this  composition  satisfy  Bridgenorth, 
who  was  of  opinion,  as  he  expressed  himself,  that  it  would 
be  holding  a  candle  to  Beelzebub.  In  fact  his  temper,  nat- 
urally stubborn,  was  at  present  rendered  much  more  so  by  a 
previous  conference  with  his  preacher,  who,  though  a  very 
good  man  in  the  main,  was  particularly  and  illiberally  ten- 
acious of  the  petty  distinctions  which  his  sect  adopted  ;  and 
while  he  thought  with  considerable  apprehension  on  the  ac- 
cession of  power  which  Popery,  Prelacy,  and  Peveril  of  the 
Peak  were  like  to  acquire  by  the  late  revolution,  became  nat- 
urally anxious  to  put  his  flock  on  their  guard,  and  prevent 
their  being  kidnapped  by  the  wolf.  He  disliked  extremely 
that  Major  Bridgenorth,  indisputably  the  head  of  the  Pres- 
byterian interest  in  that  neighborhood,  should  have  given 
his  only  daughter  to  be,  as  he  termed  it,  nursed  by  a  Ca- 
naanitish  woman  ;  and  he  told  him  plainly  that  he  liked  not 
this  going  to  feast  in  the  high  places  with  the  uncircumcized 
in  heart,  and  looked  on  the  whole  conviviality  only  as  a  mak- 
ing merry  in  the  house  of  Tirzah. 

Upon  receiving  this  rebuke  from  his  pastor,  Bridgenorth 
began  to  suspect  he  might  have  been  partly  wrong  in  the 
readiness  which,  in  his  first  ardor  of  gratitude,  he  had  shown 
to  enter  into  intimate  intercourse  with  the  Castle  of  Martin- 
dale  ;  but  he  was  too  proud  to  avow  this  to  the  preacher,  and 
it  was  not  till  after  a  considerable  debate  betwixt  them  that 
it  was  mutually  agreed,  their  presence  at  the  entertainment 
should  depend  upon  the  condition  that  no  healths  or  pledges 
should  be  given  in  their  presence.  Bridgenorth,  therefore, 
as  the  delegate  and  representative  of  his  party,  was  bound 
to  stand  firm  against  all  entreaty,  and  the  lady  became  greatlv 
embarrassed.     She  now  regretted  sincerely  that  her  well-in- 


26  WAVEELEY  NOVELS 

tended  invitation  had  ever  been  given,  for  she  foresaw  that 
its  rejection  was  to  awaken  all  former  subjects  of  quarrel, 
and  perhaps  to  lead  to  new  violences  amongst  people  who 
had  not  many  years  since  been  engaged  in  civil  war.  To 
yield  up  the  disputed  point  to  the  Presbyterians  would  have 
Deen  to  offend  the  Cavalier  party,  and  Sir  Geoffrey  in  par- 
ticular, in  the  most  mortal  degree  ;  for  they  made  it  as  firm 
a  point  of  honor  to  give  healths  and  compel  others  to  pledge 
them  as  the  Puritans  made  it  a  deep  article  of  religion  to 
refuse  both.  At  length  the  lady  changed  the  discourse,  in- 
troduced that  of  Major  Bridgenorth's  child,  caused  it  to  be 
sent  for  and  put  into  his  arms.  The  mother's  stratagem  took 
effect ;  for,  though  the  Parliamentary  Major  stood  firm,  the 
father,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Governor  of  Tilbury,  was  soft- 
ened,  and  he  agreed  that  his  friends  should  accept  a  com- 
promise.  This  was  that  the  Major  himself,  the  reverend 
divine,  and  such  of  their  friends  as  held  strict  Puritan  ten- 
ets, should  form  a  separate  party  in  the  large  parlor,  while 
the  hall  should  be  occupied  by  the  jovial  Cavaliers  ;  and 
that  each  party  should  regulate  their  potations  after  their 
own  conscience  or  after  their  own  fashion. 

Major  Bridgenorth  himself  seemed  greatly  relieved  after  this 
important  matter  had  been  settled.  He  had  held  it  matter 
of  conscience  to  be  stubborn  in  maintaining  his  own  opinion, 
but  was  heartily  glad  when  he  escaped  from  the  apparently 
inevitable  necessity  of  affronting  Lady  Peverii  by  the  refusal 
of  her  invitation.  He  remained  longer  than  usual,  and  spoke 
and  smiled  more  than  was  his  custom.  His  first  care  on  his 
return  was  to  announce  to  the  clergyman  and  his  congrega- 
tion the  compromise  which  he  had  made,  and  this  not  as  a 
matter  for  deliberation,  but  one  upon  which  he  had  already 
resolved  ;  and  such  was  his  authority  among  them,  that, 
though  the  preacher  longed  to  pronounce  a  separation  of  the 
parties,  and  to  exclaim  *'To  your  tents,  0  Israel  \"  he  did 
not  see  the  chance  of  being  seconded  by  so  many  as  would 
make  it  worth  while  to  disturb  the  unanimous  acquiescence 
in  their  delegate's  proposal. 

Nevertheless,  each  party  being  put  upon  the  alert  by  the 
consequences  of  Major  Bridgenorth's  embassy,  so  many  points 
of  doubt  and  delicate  discussion  were  started  in  succession, 
that  the  Lady  Peverii,  the  only  person,  perhaps,  who  was 
desirous  of  achieving  an  effectual  reconciliation  between 
them,  incurred  in  reward  for  her  good  intentions  the  cen- 
sure of  both  factions,  and  had  much  reason  to  regret  her 
well-meant    project  of  bringing  the  Capulets  and  Men- 


PEVERtL  OF  TBE  PEAK  2t 

tagnes    of  Derbyshire   together  on   the  same  occasion  of 

public  festivity. 

As  it  was  now  settled  that  the  guests  were  to  form  two 
different  parties,  it  became  not  only  a  subject  of  dispute  be- 
twixt themselves  which  should  be  first  admitted  within  the 
Castle  of  Martindale,  but  matter  of  serious  apprehension  to 
Lady  Peveril  and  Major  Bridgenorth,  lest,  if  there  were  to 
approach  by  the  same  avenue  and  entrance,  a  quarrel  might 
take  place  betwixt  them,  and  proceed  to  extremities,  even 
before  they  reached  the  place  of  entertainment.  The  lady 
believed  she  had  discovered  an  admirable  expedient  for  pre- 
venting the  possibility  of  such  interference,  by  directing 
that  the  Cavaliers  should  be  admitted  by  the  principal  en- 
trance, while  the  Roundheads  should  enter  the  castle 
through  a  great  breach  which  had  been  made  in  the  course 
of  the  siege,  and  across  which  there  had  been  since  made  a 
sort  of  by-path,  to  drive  the  cattle  down  to  their  pasture  in 
the  wood.  By  this  contrivance  the  Lady  Peveril  imagined 
she  had  altogether  avoided  the  various  risks  that  might  oc- 
cur from  two  such  parties  encountering  each  other,  and  dis- 
puting for  precedence.  Several  other  circumstances  of  less 
importance  were  adjusted  at  the  same  time,  and  apparently 
so  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  Presbyterian  teacher  that, 
in  a  long  lecture  on  the  subject  of  the  marriage  garment,  he 
was  at  pains  to  explain  to  his  hearers  that  outward  apparel 
was  not  alone  meant  by  that  Scriptural  expression,  but  also 
a  suitable  frame  of  mind  for  enjoyment  of  peaceful  festivity  ; 
and  therefore  he  exhorted  the  brethren,  that,  whatever  might 
be  the  errors  of  the  poor  blinded  Malignants,  with  whom 
they  were  in  some  sort  to  eat  and  drink  upon  the  morrow, 
they  ought  not  on  this  occasion  to  show  any  evil  will  against 
them,  lest  they  should  therein  become  trou biers  of  the  peace 
of  Israel. 

Honest  Doctor  Dummerar,  the  ejected  Episcopal  vicar  of 
Martindale  ctim  Moultrassie,  preached  to  the  Cavaliers  on 
the  same  subject.  He  had  served  the  cure  before  the  break- 
ing out  of  the  Rebellion,  and  was  in  high  favor  with  Sir 
Geoffrey,  not  merely  on  the  account  of  his  sound  orthodoxy 
and  deep  learning,  but  his  exquisite  skill  in  playing  at 
bowls,  and  his  facetious  conversation  over  a  pipe  and  tank- 
ard of  October.  For  these  latter  accomplishments  the 
doctor  had  the  honor  to  be  recorded  by  old  Century  White* 
amongst  the  roll  of  lewd,   incompetent,   profligate,  clergy- 

♦  See  Old  Century  White.    Note  L 


28  WAV ERLEY  NOVELS 

men  of  the  Church  of  England,  whom  he  denounced  to  God 
and  man,  on  account  chiefly  of  the  heinous  sin  of  playing  at 
games  of  skill  and  chance,  and  of  occasionally  joining  in 
the  social  meetings  of  their  parishioners.  When  the  King's 
party  began  to  loose  ground.  Doctor  Dummerar  left  his 
vicarage,  and,  betaking  himself  to  the  camp,  showed  upon 
several  occasions,  when  acting  as  chaplain  to  Sir  Geoffrey 
PeveriFs  regiment,  that  his  portly  bodily  presence  included 
a  stout  and  masculine  heart.  When  all  Avas  lost,  and  he 
himself,  with  most  other  loyal  divines,  was  deprived  of  his 
living,  he  made  such  shift  as  he  could  ;  now  lurking  in  the 
garrets  of  old  friends  in  the  university,  who  shared  with  him. 
and  such  as  him,  the  slender  means  of  livelihood  which  the 
evil  times  had  left  them ;  and  now  lying  hid  in  the  houses 
of  the  oppressed  and  sequestrated  gentry,  who  respected  at 
once  his  character  and  sufferings.  When  the  Kestoration 
took  place.  Doctor  Dummerar  emerged  from  some  one  of  his 
hiding-places,  and  hied  him  to  Martindale  Castle,  to  enjoy 
the  triumph  inseparable  from  his  happy  change. 

His  appearance  at  the  castle  in  his  full  clerical  dress,  and 
the  warm  reception  which  he  received  from  the  neighboring 
gentry,  added  not  a  little  to  the  alarm  which  was  gradually 
extending  itself  through  the  party  which  were  so  lately  the 
uppermost.  It  is  true  Doctor  Dummerar  framed  (honest, 
worthy  man)  no  extravagant  views  of  elevation  or  preferment ; 
but  the  probability  of  his  being  replaced  in  the  living,  from 
which  he  had  been  expelled  under  very  flimsy  pretenses,  in- 
ferred a  severe  blow  to  the  Presbyterian  divine,  who  couid  not 
be  considered  otherwise  than  as  an  intrudei*.  The  interest 
of  the  two  preachers,  therefore,  as  well  as  the  sentiments  of 
their  flocks,  were  at  direct  variance ;  and  here  was  another 
fatal  objection  in  the  way  of  Lady  Peveril's  scheme  of  a 
general  and  comprehensive  healing  ordinance. 

Nevertheless,  as  we  have  already  hinted,  Doctor  Dam- 
merar  behaved  as  handsomely  upon  the  occasion  as  the 
Presbyterian  incumbent  had  done.  It  is  true  that,  in  a 
sermon  which  he  preached  in  the  castle  hall  to  several  of 
the  most  distinguished  Cavalier  families,  besides  a  world  of 
boys  from  the  village,  who  went  to  see  the  novel  circum- 
stances of  a  parson  in  a  cassock  and  surplice,  he  went  at 
great  length  into  the  foulness  of  the  various  crimes  com- 
mitted by  the  rebellious  party  during  the  late  evil  times, 
and  greatly  magnified  the  merciful  and  peaceful  nature  of 
the  honorable  lady  of  the  manor,  who  condescended  to  look 
upon,  or  receive  into  her  house  in  the  way  of  friendship  and 


fPEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAKw  isb 

hospitality,  men  holding  the  principles  which  had  led  to  the 
murder  of  the  King,  the  shiying  and  despoiling  his  loyal 
subjects,  and  the  plundering  and  breaking  down  of  the 
church  of  God.  But  then  he  wiped  all  this  handsomely  up 
again  with  the  observation  that,  since  it  was  the  will  of  their 
gracious  and  newly  restored  sovereign,  and  the  pleasure  of 
the  worshipful  Lady  Peveril,  that  this  contumacious  and  re- 
bellious race  should  be,  for  a  time,  forborne  by  their  faithful 
subjects,  it  would  be  highly  proper  that  all  the  loyal  liege- 
men should,  for  the  present,  eschew  subjects  of  dissension 
or  quarrel  with  these  sons  of  Shimei ;  which  lesson  of 
patience  he  enforced  by  the  comfortable  assurance  that 
they  could  no  longer  abstain  from  their  old  rebellious  prac- 
tices ;  in  which  case,  the  Eoyalists  would  stand  exculpated 
before  God  and  man  in  extirpating  them  from  the  face  of 
the  earth. 

The  close  observers  of  the  remarkable  passages  of  the  times 
from  which  we  draw  the  events  of  our  history  have  left  iib 
upon  record  that  these  two  several  sermons,  much  contrary, 
doubtless,  to  the  intention  of  the  worthy  divines  by  whom 
they  were  delivered,  had  a  greater  effect  in  exasperating 
than  in  composing  the  disputes  betwixt  the  two  factions. 
Under  such  evil  auspices,  and  with  corresponding  fore- 
bodings on  the  mind  of  Lady  Peveril,  the  day  of  festivity  at 
length  arrived. 

By  different  routes,  and  forming  each  a  sort  of  procession, 
as  if  the  adherents  of  each  party  were  desirous  of  exhibiting 
its  strength  and  numbers,  the  two  several  factions  approached 
Martindale  Castle ;  and  so  distinct  did  they  appear  in  dress. 
aspect,  and  manners,  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  revelers  of  a 
bridal  party  and  the  sad  attendants  upon  a  funeral  solemnity 
were  moving  towards  the  same  point  from  different  quar- 
ters. 

The  Puritanical  party  was  by  far  the  fewer  in  numbers, 
for  which  two  excellent  reasons  might  be  given.  In  the 
first  place,  they  had  enjoyed  power  for  several  years,  and,  of 
course,  became  unpopular  among  the  common  people,  never 
at  any  time  attached  to  those  who,  being  in  the  immediate 
possession  of  authority,  are  often  obliged  to  employ  it  in 
controlling  their  humors.  Besides,  the  country  people  of 
England  had,  and  still  have,  an  animated  attachment  to 
field  sports,  and  a  natural  unrestrained  joviality  of  disposi- 
tion, which  rendered  them  impatient  under  the  severe  dis- 
cipline of  the  fanatical  preachers  ;  while  they  were  not  less 
naturally  discontented  with  the  military  despotism  of  Crom- 


30  WA  VERLET  NO  VEL  8 

well's  major-generals.  Secondly,  the  people  were  fickle  as 
usual,  and  the  return  of  the  King  had  novelty  in  it,  and  was 
therefore  popular.  The  side  of  the  Puritans  was  also  de- 
serted at  this  period  by  a  numerous  class  of  more  thinking 
and  prudential  persons,  who  never  forsook  them  till  they  be- 
came unfortunate.  These  sagacious  personages  were  called 
in  that  age  the  Waiters  upon  Providence,  and  deemed  it  a 
high  delinquency  towards  Heaven  if  they  afforded  counte- 
nance to  any  cause  longer  than  it  was  favored  by  fortune. 

But,  though  thus  forsaken  by  the  fickle  and  the  selfish,  a 
solemn  enthusiasm,  a  stern  and  determined  depth  of  prin- 
ciple, a  confidence  in  the  sincerity  of  their  own  motives,  and 
the  manly  English  pride  which  inclined  them  to  cling  to 
their  former  opinions,  like  the  traveler  in  the  fable  to  his 
cloak,  the  more  strongly  that  the  tempest  blew  around  them, 
detained  in  the  ranks  of  the  Puritans  many  who,  if  no  longer 
formidable  from  numbers,  were  still  so  from  their  character. 
They  consisted  chiefly  of  the  middling  gentry,  with  others 
whom  industry  or  successful  speculations  in  commerce  or  in 
mining  had  raised  into  eminence — the  persons  who  feel  most 
umbrage  from  the  overshadowing  aristocracy,  and  are  usually 
the  most  vehement  in  defense  of  what  they  hold  to  be  their 
rights.  Their  dress  was  in  general  studiously  simple  and 
unostentatious,  or  only  remarkable  by  the  contradictory 
affectation  of  extreme  simplicity  or  carelessness.  The  dark 
color  of  their  cloaks,  varying  from  absolute  black  to  what 
was  called  sad-colored  ;  their  steeple-crowned  hats,  with 
their  broad  shadowy  brims ;  their  long  swords,  suspended 
by  a  simple  strap  around  the  loins,  without  shoulder-belt, 
sword-knot,  plate,  buckles,  or  any  of  the  other  decorations 
with  which  the  Cavaliers  loved  to  adorn  their  trusty  rapiers  ; 
the  shortness  of  their  hair,  which  made  their  ears  appear  of 
disproportioned  size  ;  above  all,  the  stern  and  gloomy  gravity 
of  their  looks,  announced  their  belonging  to  that  class  of 
enthusiasts  who,  resolute  and  undismayed,  had  cast  down 
the  former  fabric  of  government,  and  who  now  regarded  with 
somewhat  more  than  suspicion  that  which  had  been  so  un- 
expectedly substituted  in  its  stead.  There  was  gloom  in 
their  countenances  ;  but  it  was  not  that  of  dejection,  far  less 
of  despair.  They  looked  like  veterans  after  a  defeat,  which 
may  have  checked  their  career  and  wounded  their  pride, 
but  has  left  their  courage  undiminished. 

The  melancholy,  now  became  habitual,  which  overcast 
Major  BridgenortVs  countenance  well  qualified  him  to  act 
as  tne  chief  of  the  group  who  now  advanced  from  the  village. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  31 

When  they  reached  the  point  by  which  they  were  first  to 
turn  aside  into  the  wood  which  surrounded  the  castle,  they 
felt  a  momentary  impression  of  degradation,  as  if  they  were 
yielding  the  highroad  to  their  old  and  oft-defeated  enemies 
the  Cavaliers.  When  they  began  to  ascend  the  winding 
path,  which  had  been  the  daily  passage  of  the  cattle,  the 
opening  of  the  wooded  glade  gave  them  a  view  of  the  castle- 
ditch,  half  choked  with  the  rubbish  of  the  breach,  and  of 
the  breach  itself,  which  was  made  at  the  angle  of  a  large 
square  flanking-tower,  one  half  of  which  had  been  battered 
into  ruins,  while  the  other  fragment  remained  in  a  state 
strangely  shattered  and  precarious,  and  seemed  to  be  totter- 
ing above  the  huge  aperture  in  the  wall.  A  stern,  still 
smile  was  exchanged  among  the  Puritans,  as  the  sight  re- 
minded them  of  the  victories  of  former  days.  Holdfast 
Clegg,  a  millwright  of  Derby,  who  had  been  himself  active 
at  the  siege,  pointed  to  the  breach,  and  said,  with  a  grim 
smile,  to  Mr.  Solsgrace,  *'  I  little  thought  that,  when  my 
own  hand  helped  to  level  the  cannon  which  Oliver  pointed 
against  yon  tower,  we  should  have  been  obliged  to  climb 
like  foxes  up  the  very  walls  which  we  won  by  our  bow  and 
by  our  spear.  Methought  these  Malignants  had  then 
enough  of  shutting  their  gates  and  making  high  their  horn 
against  us.'' 

*' Be  patient,  my  brother,"  said  Solsgrace — "be  patient, 
and  let  not  thy  soul  be  disquieted.  We  enter  not  this  high 
place  dishonorably,  seeing  we  ascend  by  the  gate  which  the 
Lord  opened  to  the  godly.'' 

The  words  of  the  pastor  were  like  a  spark  to  gunpowder. 
Thcjcountenances  of  the  mournful  retinue  suddenly  expanded, 
and,  accepting  what  had  fallen  from  him  as  an  omen  and  a 
light  from  Heaven  how  they  were  to  interpret  their  present 
situation,  they  uplifted,  with  one  consent,  one  of  the 
triumphant  songs  in  which  the  Israelities  celebrated  the 
victories  which  had  been  vouchsafed  to  them  over  the 
heathen  inhabitants  of  the  Promised  Land  : 


Let  God  arise,  and  then  his  foes 
Shall  turn  themselves  to  flight, 

His  enemies  for  fear  shall  run, 
And  scatter  out  of  sight ; 

And  as  wax  melts  before  the  fire. 
And  wind  blows  smoke  away, 

So  in  the  presence  of  the  Lord, 
The  wicked  shall  decay. 


32  wav£:rley  novels. 

God's  army  twenty  thousand  is, 

Of  angels  bright  and  strong, 
The  Lord  also  in  Sinai 

Is  present  them  among. 

Thou  didst,  O  Lord,  ascend  on  high, 

And  captive  led'st  them  all, 
Who,  in  times  past,  thy  chosen  flock 

In  bondage  did  enthral."  * 

These  sounds  of  devotional  triumph  reached  the  joyous 
band  of  the  Cavaliers,  who,  decked  in  whatever  pomp  their 
repeated  misfortunes  and  impoverishment  had  left  them, 
were  moving  towards  the  same  point,  though  by  a  different 
road,  and  were  filling  the  principal  avenue  to  the  castle  with 
tiptoe  mirth  and  revelry.  The  two  parties  were  strongly 
contrasted ;  for,  during  that  period  of  civil  dissension,  the 
manners  of  the  different  factions  distinguished  them  as 
completely  as  separate  uniforms  might  have  done.  If  the 
Puritan  was  affectedly  plain  in  his  dress  and  ridiculously 
precise  in  his  manners,  the  Cavalier  often  carried  his  love  of 
ornament  into  tawdry  finery,  and  his  contempt  of  hypocrisy 
into  licentious  profligacy.  Gay,  gallant  fellows,  young  and 
old,  thronged  together  towards  the  ancient  castle,  with 
general  and  joyous  manifestation  of  those  spirits  which,  as 
they  had  been  buoyant  enough  to  support  their  owners  dur- 
ing the  worst  of  times,  as  they  termed  Oliver's  usurpation, 
were  now  so  inflated  as  to  transport  them  nearly  beyond  the 
reach  of  sober  reason.  Feathers  waved,  lace  glittered,  spears 
jingled,  steeds  caracoled  ;  and  here  and  there  a  petronel  or 
pistol  was  fired  off  by  some  one,  who  found  his  own  natural 
talents  for  making  a  noise  inadequate  to  the  dignity  of  the 
occasion.  Boys — for,  as  we  said  before,  the  rabble  were  with 
the  uppermost  party,  as  usual — hallooed  and  whooped, 
^'  Down  the  Eump,''  and  ''  Fie  upon  Oliver  !"  musical  in- 
struments, of  as  many  different  fashions  as  were  then  in 
use,  played  all  at  once,  and  without  any  regard  to  each 
other's  tune  ;  and  the  glee  of  the  occasion,  while  it  recon- 
ciled the  pride  of  the  high-born  of  the  party  to  fraternize 
with  the  general  rout,  derived  an  additional  zest  from  the 
conscious  triumph  that  their  exultation  was  heard  by  their 
neighbors,  the  crestfallen  Roundheads. 

When  the  loud  and  sonorous  swell  of  the  psalm-tune, 
multiplied  by  all  the  echoes  of  the  cliffs  and  ruinous  halls, 

*This  forms  part  of  Sternhold's  version  of  the  68th  Psalm,  with 
some  slight  variations. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  33 

came  full  upon  their  ear,  as  if  to  warn  them  how  little  they 
were  to  reckon  upon  the  depression  of  their  adversaries,  at 
first  it  was  answered  with  a  scornful  laugh,  raised  to  as  much 
height  as  the  scoffers^  lungs  would  permit,  in  order  that  it 
might  carry  to  the  psalmodists  the  contempt  of  their  audi- 
tors ;  but  this  was  a  forced  exertion  of  party  spleen.  There 
is  something  in  melancholy  feelings  more  natural  to  an  im- 
perfect and  suffering  state  than  in  those  of  gaiety,  and  when 
they  are  brought  into  collision  the  former  seldem  fail  to 
triumph.  If  a  funeral-train  and  wedding-procession  were  to 
meet  unexpectedly,  it  will  readily  be  allowed  that  the  mirth 
of  the  last  would  be  speedily  merged  in  the  gloom  of  the 
other.  But  the  Cavaliers,  moreover,  had  sympathies  of  a 
different  kind.  The  psalm -tune  which  now  came  rolling  on 
their  ear  had  been  heard  too  often,  and  upon  too  many  oc- 
casions had  preceded  victory  gained  over  the  Malignants,  to 
permit  them,  ever  in  their  triumph,  to  hear  it  without  emo- 
tion. There  was  a  sort  of  pause,  of  which  the  party  them- 
selves seemed  rather  ashamed,  until  the  silence  was  broken 
by  the  stout  old  knight.  Sir  Jasper  Cranbourne,  whose  gal- 
lantry was  so  universally  acknowledged  that  he  could  afford, 
if  we  may  use  such  an  expression,  to  confess  emotions  which 
men  whose  courage  was  in  any  respect  liable  to  suspicion 
would  have  thought  it  more  prudent  to  conceal. 

''^Adad/'  said  the  old  knight,  ''may  I  never  taste  claret 
again,  if  that  is  not  the  very  tune  with  which  the  prick-cared 
villains  began  their  onset  at  Wiggan  Lane,  where  they 
trowled  us  down  like  so  many  ninepins  !  Faith,  neighbors, 
to  say  truth  and  shame  the  devil,  I  did  not  like  the  sound  of 
it  above  half." 

''  If  I  thought  the  Eoundheaded  rogues  did  it  in  scorn  of 
us,"  said  Dick  Wildblood  of  the  Dale,  ''  I  would  cudgel 
their  psalmody  out  of  their  peasantly  throats  with  this  very 
truncheon  ; "  a  motion  which,  being  seconded  by  old  Eoger 
Raine,  the  drunken  tapster  of  the  Peveril  Arms  in  the  vil- 
lage, might  have  brought  on  a  general  battle,  but  that  Sir 
Jasper  forbade  the  feud. 

"  We^ll  have  no  ranting,  Dick,"  said  the  old  knight  to 
the  young  franklin—*'  adad,  man,  we'll  have  none,  for  three 
reasons  :  first,  because  it  would  be  ungentle  to  Lady  Peveril ; 
then,  because  it  is  against  the  king's  peace  ;  and  lastly, 
Dick,  because,  if  we  did  set  on  the  psalm-singing  knaves, 
thou  mightest  come  by  the  worst,  my  boy,  as  has  chanced 
to  thee  before." 

"  Who,  I,  Sir  Jasper  1/'  answered  Dick — ''I  come  by  the 
3 


84  WA  VEBLET  NOVELS 

worst !  ni  be  d — d  if  it  ever  happened  but  in  that  accursed 
lane,  where  we  had  no  more  flank,  front,  or  rear  than  if  we 
had  been  so  many  herrings  in  a  barrel/' 

"  That  was  the  reason,  I  fancy,''  answered  Sir  Jasper, 
"  that  you,  to  mend  the  matter,  scrambled  into  the  hedge 
and  stuck  there,  horse  and  man,  till  I  beat  thee  through  it 
with  my  leading-staff  ;  and  then,  instead  of  charging  to  the 
front,  you  went  right-about,  and  away  as  fast  as  your  feet 
could  carry  you." 

This  reminiscence  produced  a  laugh  at  Dick's  expense, 
who  was  known,  or  at  least  suspected,  to  have  more  tongue 
in  his  head  than  mettle  in  his  bosom.  And  this  sort  of  ral- 
lying on  the  part  of  the  knight  having  fortunately  abated 
the  resentment  which  had  begun  to  awaken  in  the  breasts  of 
the  Royalist  cavalcade,  farther  cause  for  offense  was  removed 
by  the  sudden  ceasing  of  the  sounds  which  they  had  been 
disposed  to  interpret  into  those  of  premeditated  insult. 

This  was  owing  to  the  arrival  of  the  Puritans  at  the  bottom 
of  the  large  and  wide  breach  which  had  been  formerly  made 
in  the  wall  of  the  castle  by  their  victorious  cannon.  The 
sight  of  its  gaping  heaps  of  rubbish,  and  disjointed  masses 
of  building,  up  which  slowly  winded  a  narrow  and  steep 
path,  such  as  is  made  amongst  ancient  ruins  by  the  rare 
passage  of  those  who  occasionally  visit  them,  was  calculated, 
when  contrasted  with  the  gray  and  solid  massiveness  of  the 
towers  and  curtains  which  yet  stood  uninjured,  to  remind 
them  of  their  victory  over  the  stronghold  of  their  enemies, 
and  how  they  had  bound  nobles  and  princes  with  fetters  of 
iron. 

But  feelings  more  suitable  to  the  purpose  of  their  visit  to 
Martindale  Oastle  were  awakened  in  the  bosoms  even  of  these 
stern  sectaries  when  the  lady  of  the  castle,  still  in  the  very 
prime  of  beauty  and  of  womanhood,  appeared  at  the  top  of 
the  breach  with  her  principal  female  attendants,  to  receive 
her  guests  with  the  honor  and  courtesy  becoming  her  invita- 
tion. She  had  laid  aside  the  black  dress  which  had  been 
her  sole  attire  for  several  years,  and  was  arrayed  with  a 
splendor  not  unbecoming  her  high  descent  and  quality. 
Jewels,  indeed,  she  had  none  ;  but  her  long  and  dark  hair 
was  surmounted  with  a  chaplet  made  of  oak-leaves,  inter- 
spersed with  lilies ;  the  former  being  the  emblem  of  the 
King's  preservation  in  the  Royal  Oak,  and  the  latter,  of  his 
happy  Restoration.  What  rendered  her  presence  still  more 
interesting  to  those  who  looked  on  her  was  the  presence  of 
the  two  children  whom    she   held   in    either  hand  one  of 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  35 

whom  was  well  known  to  them  all  to  be  the  child  of  their 
leader,  Major  Bridgenorth,  who  had  been  restored  to  life 
and  health  by  the  almost  maternal  care  of  the  Lady  Peveril. 

If  even  the  inferior  persons  of  the  party  felt  the  healing 
influence  of  her  presence,  thus  accompanied,  poor  Bridge- 
north  was  almost  overwhelmed  with  it.  The  strictness  of 
his  cast  and  manners  permitted  him  not  to  sink  on  his  knee 
and  kiss  the  hand  which  held  his  little  orphan  ;  but  the 
deepness  of  his  obeisance,  the  faltering  tremor  of  his  voice, 
and  the  glistening  of  his  eye,  showed  a  grateful  respect  for 
the  lady  whom  he  addressed,  deeper  and  more  reverential 
than  could  have  been  expressed  even  by  Persian  prostration. 
A  few  courteous  and  mild  words,  expressive  of  the  pleasure 
she  found  in  once  more  seeing  her  neighbors  as  her  friends  ; 
a  few  kind  inquiries,  addressed  to  the  principal  individuals 
among  her  guests,  concerning  their  families  and  connections, 
completed  her  triumph  over  angry  thoughts  and  dangerous 
recollections,  and  disposed  men^s  bosoms  to  sympathize  with 
the  purposes  of  the  meeting. 

Even  Solsgrace  himself,  although  imagining  himself  bound 
by  his  office  and  duty  to  watch  over  and  counteract  the 
wiles  of  the  ''  Amalekitish  woman,^'  did  not  escape  the 
sympathetic  infection  ;  being  so  much  struck  with  the  marks 
of  peace  and  good-will  exhibited  by  Lady  Peveril  that  he 
immediately  raised  the  psalm, 

•*  O  what  a  happy  thing  it  is, 
And  joyful,  for  to  see 
Brethren  to  dwell  together  in 
Friendship  and  unity  I  " 

Accepting  this  salutation  as  a  mark  of  courtesy  repaid, 
the  Lady  Peveril  marshaled  in  person  this  party  of  her 
guests  to  the  apartment  where  ample  good  cheer  was  pro- 
Tided  for  them  ;  and  had  even  the  patience  to  remain  while 
Master  Nehemiah  Solsgrace  pronounced  a  benediction  of 
portentous  length  as  an  introduction  to  the  banquet.  Her 
presence  was  in  some  measure  a  restraint  on  the  worthy  di- 
vine, whose  prolusion  lasted  the  longer,  and  was  the  more 
intricate  and  embarrassed,  that  he  felt  himself  debarred  from 
rounding  it  off  by  his  usual  alliterative  petition  for  deliver- 
ance from  Popery,  Prelacy,  and  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  which 
had  become  so  habitual  to  him  that,  after  various  attempts 
to  conclude  with  some  other  form  of  words,  he  found  him- 
self at  last  obliged  to  pronounce  the  first  words  of  his  usual 


36  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

formula  aloud,  and  mutter  the  rest  in  such  a  manner  as  not 
to  be  intelligible  even  by  those  who  stood  nearest  to  him. 

The  minister's  silence  was  followed  by  all  the  various 
sounds  which  announce  the  onset  of  a  hungry  company  on 
a  well-furnished  table  ;  and  at  the  same  time  gave  the  lady 
an  opportunity  to  leave  the  apartment,  and  look  to  the  ac- 
commodation of  her  other  company.  She  felt,  indeed,  that 
it  was  high  time  to  do  so  ;  and  that  the  Eoyalist  guests 
might  be  disposed  to  misapprehend,  or  even  to  resent,  the 
prior  attentions  which  she  had  thought  it  prudent  to  offer 
to  the  Puritans. 

These  apprehensions  were  not  altogether  ill-founded.  It 
was  in  vain  that  the  steward  had  displayed  the  royal  stan- 
dard, with  its  proud  motto  of  Tandem  TriuwpJians,  on  one 
of  the  great  towers  which  flanked  the  main  entrance  of  the 
castle  ;  while  from  the  other  floated  the  banner  of  Peveril 
of  the  Peak,  under  which  many  of  those  who  now  approached 
had  fought  during  all  the  vicissitudes  of  civil  war.  It  was 
in  vain  he  repeated  his  clamorous  ^'  Welcome,  noble  Caval- 
iers ! — welcome,  generous  gentlemen  ! "  There  was  a  slight 
murmur  amongst  them  that  their  welcome  ought  to  have 
come  from  the  mouth  of  the  colonel's  lady,  not  from  that  of 
a  menial.  Sir  Jasper  Cranbourne,  who  had  sense  as  well  as 
spirit  and  courage,  and  who  was  aware  of  his  fair  cousin's 
motives,  having  been  indeed  consulted  by  her  upon  all  the 
arrangements  which  she  had  adopted,  saw  matters  were  in 
such  a  state  that  no  time  ought  to  be  lost  in  conducting  the 
guests  to  the  banque ting-apartment,  where  a  fortunate  di- 
version from  all  these  topics  of  rising  discontent  might  be 
made,  at  the  expense  of  the  good  cheer  of  all  sorts  which  the 
/lady's  care  had  so  liberally  provided. 

The  stratagem  of  the  old  soldier  succeeded  in  its  utmost 
extent.  He  assumed  the  great  oaken  chair  usually  occupied 
by  the  steward  at  his  audits ;  and  Dr.  Dummerar  having 
pronounced  a  brief  Latin  benediction,  which  was  not  the 
less  esteemed  by  the  hearers  that  none  of  them  understood 
it.  Sir  Jasper  exhorted  the  company  to  whet  their  appetites 
to  the  dinner  by  a  brimming  cup  to  his  Majesy's  health, 
filled  as  high  and  as  deep  as  their  goblets  would  permit.  In 
a  moment  all  was  bustle  with  the  clang  of  wine-cups  and  of 
flagons.  In  another  moment  the  guests  were  on  their  feet 
like  so  many  statues,  all  hushed  as  death,  but  with  eyes 
glancing  with  expectation,  and  hands  outstretched,  which 
displayed  their  loyal  brimmers.  The  voice  of  Sir  Jasper, 
«lear,  sonorous,  and  emphatic  as  the  sound  of  his  war-trum 


PSVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  31 

pet,  announced  the  health  of  the  restored  monarch,  hastily 
echoed  back  by  the  assemblage,  impatient  to  render  it  due 
homage.  Another  brief  pause  was  filled  by  the  draining  of 
their  cups,  and  the  mustering  breath  to  join  in  a  shout  so 
loud  that  not  only  the  rafters  of  the  old  hall  trembled  while 
they  echoed  it  back,  but  the  garlands  of  oaken  boughs  and 
flowers  with  which  they  were  decorated  waved  wildly  and 
rustled  as  if  agitated  by  a  sudden  whirlwind.  This  rite  ob- 
served, the  company  proceeded  to  assail  the  good  cheer  with 
which  the  table  groaned,  animated  as  they  were  to  the  attack 
both  by  mirth  and  melody,  for  they  were  attended  by  all  the 
minstrels  of  the  district,  who,  like  the  Episcopal  clergy,  had 
been  put  to  silence  during  the  reign  of  the  self-entitled 
saints  of  the  Commonwealth.  The  social  occupation  of  good 
eating  and  drinking,  the  exchange  of  pledges  betwixt  old 
neighbors  who  had  been  fellow-soldiers  in  the  moment  of 
resistance,  fellow-sufferers  in  the  time  of  depression  and 
subjugation,  and  were  now  partners  in  the  same  general 
subject  of  congratulation,  soon  wiped  from  their  memory 
the  trifling  cause  of  complaint  which  in  the  minds  of  some 
had  darkened  the  festivity  of  the  day  ;  so  that  when  the 
Lady  Peveril  walked  into  the  hall,  accompanied  as  before 
with  the  children  and  her  female  attendants,  she  was  wel- 
comed with  the  acclamations  due  to  the  mistress  of  the 
banquet  and  of  the  castle— the  dame  of  the  noble  knight 
who  had  led  most  of  them  to  battle  with  an  undaunted  and 
persevering  valor  which  was  worthy  of  better  success. 

Her  address  to  them  was  brief  and  matronly,  yet  spoken 
with  so  much  feeling  as  found  its  way  to  every  bosom.  She 
apologized  for  the  lateness  of  her  personal  welcome,  by  re- 
minding them  that  there  were  then  present  in  Martindale 
Castle  that  day  persons  whom  recent  happy  events  had  con- 
verted from  enemies  into  friends,  but  on  whom  the  latter 
character  was  so  recently  imposed  that  she  dared  not  neglect 
with  them  any  point  of  ceremonial.  But  those  whom  she 
now  addressed  were  the  best,  the  dearest,  the  most  faithful 
friends  of  her  husband's  house,  to  whom  and  to  their  valor 
Peveril  had  not  only  owed  those  successes  which  had  given 
them  and  him  fame  during  the  late  unhappy  times,  but  to 
whose  courage  she  in  particular  had  owed  the  preservation 
of  their  leader's  life,  even  when  it  could  not  avert  defeat. 
A  word  or  two  of  heartfelt  congratulation  on  the  happy 
restoration  of  the  royal  line  and  authority  completed  all 
which  she  had  boldness  to  add,  and,  bowing  gracefully  round 
her^  she  lifted  a  cup  to  her  lips  as.  if  to  \^^^lcopae_  her  guests. 


38  tvAVERlEY  NOVELS 

There  still  remained,  and  especially  amongst  the  old  Cav- 
aliers of  the  period,  some  glimmering  of  that  spirit  which 
inspired  Froissart,  when  he  declared  that  a  knight  hath 
double  courage  at  need  when  animated  by  the  looks  and 
words  of  a  beautiful  and  virtuous  woman.  It  was  not  until 
the  reign  which  was  commencing  at  the  moment  we  are 
treating  of,  that  the  unbounded  license  of  the  age,  introduc- 
ing a  general  course  of  profligacy,  degraded  the  female  sex 
into  mere  servants  of  pleasure,  and,  in  so  doing,  deprived 
society  of  that  noble  tone  of  feeling  towards  the  sex  which 
considered  as  a  spur  to  '  raise  the  clear  spirit,'  is  superior  to 
every  other  impulse  save  those  of  religion  and  of  patriotism. 
The  beams  of  the  ancient  hall  of  Martindale  Castle  instantly 
rung  with  a  shout  louder  and  shriller  than  that  at  which 
they  had  so  lately  trembled,  and  the  names  of  the  knight  of 
the  Peak  and  his  lady  were  proclaimed  amid  waving  of  caps 
and  hats,  and  universal  wishes  for  their  health  and  happi- 
ness. 

Under  these  auspices  the  Lady  Peveril  glided  from  the 
hall,  and  left  free  space  for  the  revelry  of  the  evening. 

That  of  the  Cavaliers  may  be  easily  conceived,  since  it  had 
the  usual  accompaniments  of  singing,  jesting,  quaffing  of 
healths,  and  playing  of  tunes,  which  have  in  almost  every 
age  and  quarter  of  the  world  been  the  accompaniments  of 
festive  cheer.  The  enjoyments  of  the  Puritans  were  of  a 
different  and  less  noisy  character.  They  neither  sung, 
jested,  heard  music,  nor  drank  healths  ;  and  yet  they  seemed 
not  the  less,  in  their  own  phrase,  to  enjoy  the  creature-com- 
forts which  the  frailty  of  humanity  rendered  grateful  to 
their  outward  man.  Old  Whitaker  even  protested  that, 
though  much  the  smaller  party  in  point  of  numbers,  they 
discussed  nearly  as  much  sack  and  claret  as  his  own  more 
jovial  associates.  Bat  those  who  considered  the  steward's 
prejudices  were  inclined  to  think  that,  in  order  to  produce 
such  a  result,  he  must  have  thrown  in  his  own  by-drinkiugs 
— no  inconsiderable  item — to  the  sum  total  of  the  Presby- 
terian potations. 

Without  adopting  such  a  partial  and  scandalous  report, 
we  shall  only  say,  that  on  this  occasion,  as  on  most  others, 
the  rareness  of  indulgence  promoted  the  sense  of  enjoy- 
ment and  that  those  who  made  abstinence,  or  at  least 
moderation,  a  point  of  religious  principle,  enjoyed  their 
social  meeting  the  better  that  such  opportunities  rarely  pre- 
sented themselves.  If  they  did  not  actually  drink  each 
other's  healths,  th^y  at  least  showed,  by  looking  and  nodding 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  39 

to  each  other  as  they  raised  their  glasses,  that  they  all  were 
gharing  the  same  festive  gratification  of  the  appetite,  and 
felt  it  enhanced,  because  it  was  at  the  same  time  enjoyed  by 
their  friends  and  neighbors.  Religion,  as  it  was  the  prin- 
cipal topic  of  their  thoughts,  became  also  the  chief  subject 
of  their  conversation,  and  as  they  sat  together  in  small  sep- 
arate knots,  they  discussed  doctrinal  and  metaphysical  points 
of  belief,  balanced  the  merits  of  various  preachers,  com- 
pared the  creeds  of  contending  sects,  and  fortified  by  Scrip- 
tural quotations  those  which  they  favored.  Some  contests 
arose  in  the  course  of  these  debates,  which  might  have  pro- 
ceeded farther  than  was  seemly  but  for  the  cautious  inter- 
ference of  Major  Bridgenorth.  He  suppressed  also,  in  the 
very  bud,  a  dispute  betwixt  Gafier  Hodgeson  of  Charnelycot 
and  the  reverend  Mr.  Solsgrace  upon  the  tender  subject  of 
lay-preaching  and  lay-ministering ;  nor  did  he  think  it  al- 
together prudent  or  decent  to  indulge  the  wishes  of  some  of 
the  warmer  enthusiasts  of  the  party,  who  felt  disposed  to 
make  the  rest  partakers  of  their  gifts  in  extemporaneous 
prayer  and  exposition.  These  were  absurdities  that  belonged 
to  the  time,  which,  however,  the  major  had  sense  enough  to 
perceive  were  unfitted,  whether  the  offspring  of  hypocrisy 
or  enthusiasm,  for  the  present  time  and  place. 

The  major  was  also  instrumental  in  breaking  up  the  party 
at  an  early  and  decorous  hour,  so  that  they  left  the  castle 
long  before  their  rivals,  the  Cavaliers,  had  reached  the 
spring-tide  of  their  merriment — an  arrangement  which 
afforded  the  greatest  satisfaction  to  the  lady,  who  dreaded 
the  consequences  which  might  not  improbably  have  taken 
place  had  both  parties  met  at  the  same  period  and  point  of 
retreat. 

It  was  near  midnight  ere  the  greater  part  of  the  Cavaliers, 
meaning  such  as  were  able  to  affect  their  departure  without 
assistance,  withdrew  to  the  village  of  Martindale-Moultrassie, 
with  the  benefit  of  the  broad  moon  to  prevent  the  chance  of 
accidents.  Their  shouts,  and  the  burden  of  their  roaring 
chorus  of — 

**  The  King  shall  enjoy  his  own  again," 

were  heard  with  no  small  pleasure  by  the  lady,  heartily 
glad  that  the  riot  of  the  day  was  over  without  the  occur- 
rence of  any  unpleasing  accident.  The  rejoicing  was  not, 
however,  entirely  ended ;  for  the  elevated  Cavaliers,  find- 
ing some  of  the  villagers  still  on  foot  around  a  bonfire 


40  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

on  the  street,  struck  merrily  in  with  them,  sent  to  Eoger 
Raine,  of  the  Peveril  Arms,  the  loyal  publican  whom  we 
have  already  mentioned,  for  two  tubs  of  merry  stingo,  as  it 
was  termed,  and  lent  their  own  powerful  assistance  at  the 
''dusting'^  it  off  to  the  health  of  the  King  and  the  loyal 
General  Monk.  Their  shouts  for  a  long  time  disturbed, 
and  even  alarmed,  the  little  village  ;  but  no  enthusiasm  is 
able  to  withstand  forever  the  natural  consequences  of  late 
hours  and  potations  pottlo-deep.  The  tumult  of  the  exult- 
ing Royalists  at  last  sunk  into  silence,  and  the  moon  and  the 
owl  were  left  in  undisturbed  sovereignty  over  the  old  tower 
of  the  village  church,  which,  rising  white  above  a  circle  of 
knotty  oaks,  was  tenanted  by  the  bird  and  silvered  by  the 
planet.* 

*  See  Cavaliers  and  Roundheads.    Note  S. 


CHAPTER  V 

Twas  when  they  raised,  'mid  sap  and  siege, 
The  banners  of  their  rightful  liege, 

At  their  she-captain's  call, 
Who,  miracle  of  womankind  ! 
Lient  mettle  to  the  meanest  hind 
That  mann'd  her  castle  wall. 

William  S.  Eose. 

On  the  morning  succeeding  the  feast,  the  Lady  Peveril, 
fatigaed  with  the  exertions  and  the  apprehensions  of  the 
former  day,  kept  her  apartment  for  two  or  three  hours  later 
than  her  own  active  habits  and  the  matutinal  custom  of  the 
time  rendered  usual.  Mean^rhile,  Mistress  Ellesmere,  a 
person  of  great  trust  in  the  family,  and  who  assumed  much 
authority  in  her  mistress's  absence,  laid  her  orders  upon 
Deborah,  the  governante,  immediately  to  carry  the  children 
to  their  airing  in  the  park,  and  not  to  let  any  one  enter  the 
gilded  chamber,  which  was  usually  their  sporting-place. 
Deborah,  who  often  rebelled,  and  sometimes  successfully, 
against  the  deputed  authority  of  Ellesmere,  privately  re- 
solved that  it  was  about  to  rain,  and  that  the  gilded  chamber 
was  a  more  suitable  place  for  the  children's  exercise  than 
the  wet  grass  of  the  park  on  a  raw  morning. 

But  a  woman's  brain  is  sometimes  as  inconstant  as  a  popu- 
lar assembly  ;  and  presently  after  she  had  voted  the  morn- 
ing was  like  to  be  rainy,  and  that  the  gilded  chamber  was 
the  fittest  play-room  for  the  children.  Mistress  Deborah  came 
to  the  somewhat  inconsistent  resolution  that  the  park  was 
the  fittest  place  for  her  own  morning  walk.  It  is  certain 
that,  during  the  unrestrained  joviality  of  the  preceeding 
evening,  she  had  danced  till  midnight  with  Lance  Outram, 
the  park-keeper  ;  but  how  far  the  seeing  him  just  pass  the 
window  in  his  woodland  trim,  with  a  feather  in  his  hat  and 
a  cross-bow  under  his  arm,  influenced  the  discrepancy  of 
the  opinions  Mrs.  Deborah  formed  concerning  the  weather, 
we  are  far  from  presuming  to  guess.  It  is  enough  for  us 
that,  so  soon  as  Mistress  Ellesmere's  back  was  turned.  Mis- 
tress Deborah  carried  the  children  into  the  gilded  chamber, 
not  without  a  strict  charge  (for  we  must  do  her  justice)  to 

41 


42  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Master  Julian  to  take  care  of  his  little  wife,  Mistress  Alice  ; 
and  then,  having  taken  so  satisfactory  a  precaution,  she 
herself  glided  into  the  park  by  the  glass-door  of  the  still- 
room,  which  was  nearly  opposite  to  the  great  breach. 

The  gilded  chamber  in  which  the  children  were,  by  this 
arrangement,  left  to  amuse  themselves,  without  better  guard- 
ianship than  what  Juliana's  manhood  afforded,  was  a  large 
apartment,  hung  with  stamped  Spanish  leather,  curiously 
ffilded,  representing,  in  a  manner  now  obsolete,  but  far 
from  unpleasing,  a  series  of  tilts  and  combats  betwixt  the 
Saracens  of  Grenada  and  the  Spaniards  under  the  command 
of  Hin^  Ferdinand  and  Queen  Isabella,  during  that  mem- 
orable siege  which  was  terminated  by  the  overthrow  of  the 
last  fragments  of  the  Moorish  empire  in  Spain. 

The  little  Julian  was  careering  about  the  room  for  the 
amusement  of  his  infant  friend,  as  well  as  his  own,  mimick- 
ing with  a  reed  the  menacing  attitude  of  the  Abencerrages 
and  Zegris  engaged  in  the  Eastern  sport  of  hurling  the 
'*  jerid,"  or  javelin  ;  and  at  times  sitting  down  beside  her, 
and  caressing  her  into  silence  and  good-humor,  when  the 
petulant  or  timid  child  chose  to  become  tired  of  remaining 
an  inactive  spectator  of  his  boisterous  sport ;  when,  on  a 
sudden,  he  observed  one  of  the  paneled  compartments  of 
the  leather  hangings  slide  apart,  so  as  to  show  a  fair  hand, 
with  its  fingers  resting  upon  its  edgo,  prepared,  it  would 
seem,  to  push  it  still  farther  back.  Julian  was  much  sur- 
prised, and  somewhat  frightened,  at  what  he  witnessed,  for 
the  tales  of  the  nursery  had  strongly  impressed  on  his  mind 
the  terrors  of  the  invisible  world.  Yet,  naturally  bold  and 
high-spirited,  the  little  champion  placed  himself  beside  his 
defenseless  sister,  continuing  to  brandish  his  weapon  in  her 
defense  as  boldly  as  if  he  had  himself  been  an  Abencerrage 
of  Grenada. 

The  panel,  on  which  his  eye  was  fixed,  gradually  continued 
to  slide  back,  and  display  more  and  more  the  form  to  which 
the  hand  appertained,  until,  in  the  dark  aperture  which  was 
disclosed,  the  children  saw  the  figure  of  a  lady  in  a  mourn- 
ing dress,  past  the  meridian  of  life,  but  whose  countenance 
still  retained  traces  of  great  beauty,  although  the  predomi- 
nant character  both  of  her  features  and  person  was  an  air  of 
almost  royal  dignity.  After  pausing  a  moment  on  the  thresh- 
old of  the  portal  which  she  had  thus  unexpectedly  disclosed, 
and  looking  with  some  surprise  at  the  children,  whom  she 
had  not  probably  observed  while  engaged  with  the  manage- 
ment of  the  panel,  the  stranger  stepped  into  the  apartment. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  43 

and  the  panei,  upon  a  touch  of  a  spring,  closed  behind  her 
so  suddenly  that  Julian  almost  doubtod  it  had  ever  been 
open,  and  began  to  apprehend  that  the  whole  apparition  had 
been  a  delusion.* 

The  stately  lady,  however,  advanced  to  him,  and  said, 
"  Are  not  you  the  little  Peveril  ?  " 

'^  Yq^"  said  the  boy,  reddening,  not  altogether  without  a 
juvenile  feeling  of  that  rule  of  chivalry  which  forbade  any 
one  to  disown  his  name,  whatever  danger  might  be  annexed 
to  the  avowal  of  it. 

'^  Then,'^  said  the  stately  stranger,  ''go  to  your  mother's 
room  and  tell  her  to  come  instantly  to  speak  with  me/' 

*'  I  wo'not,"  said  the  little  Julian. 

''  How  !  "  said  the  lady,  ''so  young  and  so  disobedient ! 
but  you  do  but  follow  the  fashion  of  the  time.  Why  will 
you  not  go,  my  pretty  boy,  when  I  ask  it  of  you  as  a  favor  ? '' 

"I  would  go,  madam,"  said  the  boy,  "but ,''  and  he 

stopped  short,  still  drawing  back  as  the  lady  advanced  on 
him,  but  still  holding  by  the  hand  Alice  Bridgenorth,  who, 
too  young  to  understand  the  nature  of  the  dialogue,  clung, 
trembling,  to  her  companion. 

The  stranger  saw  his  embarrassment,  smiled,  and  remained 
standing  fast,  while  she  asked  the  child  once  more,  "What 
are  you  afraid  of,  my  brave  boy  ;  and  why  should  you  not 
go  to  your  mother  on  my  errand  ?  " 

"  Because,"  answered  Julian,  firmly,  "  if  I  go,  little  Alice 
must  stay  alone  with  you." 

"  You  are  a  gallant  fellow,  "said  the  lady,  "  and  will  not 
disgrace  your  blood,  which  never  left  the  weak  without 
protection." 

The  boy  understood  her  not,  and  still  gazed  with  anxious 
apprehension,  first  on  her  who  addressed  him,  and  then  upon 
his  little  companion,  whose  eyes,  with  the  vacant  glance  of 
infancy,  wandered  from  the  figure  of  the  lady  to  that  of  her 
companion  and  protector,  and  at  length,  infected  by  a  por- 
tion of  the  fear  which  the  latter's  magnanimous  efforts 
could  not  entirely  conceal,  she  flew  into  Julian's  arms,  and, 
clinging  to  him,  greatly  augmented  his  alarm,  and,  by 
screaming  aloud,  rendered  it  very  difficult  for  him  to  avoid 
the  sympathetic  fear  which  impelled  him  to  do  the  same. 

There  was  something  in  the  manner  and  bearing  of  this 
unexpected  inmate  which  might  justify  awe  at  least,  if  not 
fear,  when  joined  to  the  singular  and  mysterious  mode  in 

*  See  CJoncealjnent  of  the  Countess  of  Derby.    Note  3. 


44  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

which  she  had  made  her  appearance.  Her  dress  was  not 
remarkable,  being  the  hood  and  female  riding-attire  of  the 
time,  such  as  was  worn  by  the  inferior  class  of  gentlewomen  ; 
but  her  black  hair  was  very  long,  and  several  locks,  having 
escaped  from  under  her  hood,  hung  down  disheveled  on  her 
neck  and  shoulders.  Her  eyes  were  deep  black,  keen,  and 
piercing,  and  her  features  had  something  of  a  foreign  ex- 
pression. When  she  spoke,  her  language  was  marked  by  a 
slight  foreign  accent,  although  in  construction  it  was  pure 
English.  Her  slightest  tone  and  gesture  had  the  air  of  one 
accustomed  to  command  and  to  be  obeyed  ;  the  recollection 
of  which  probably  suggested  to  Julian  the  apology  he  after- 
wards made  for  being  frightened,  that  he  took  the  stranger 
for  an  '^  enchanted  queen.''' 

While  the  stranger  lady  and  the  children  thus  confronted 
each  other,  two  persons  entered  alir^ost  at  the  same  instant, 
but  from  different  doors,  whose  hastv^  showed  that  they  had 
been  alarmed  by  the  screams  of  the  latter. 

The  first  was  Major  Bridgenorth,  whose  ears  had  been 
alarmed  with  the  cries  of  his  child  as  he  entered  the  hall, 
which  corresponded  with  what  was  called  the  gilded  chamber. 
His  intention  had  been  to  remain  in  the  more  public  apart- 
ment until  the  Lady  Peveril  should  make  her  appearance, 
with  the  good-natured  purpose  of  assuring  her  that  the  pre- 
ceding day  of  tumult  had  passed  in  every  respect  agreeably 
to  his  friends,  and  without  any  of  those  alarming  conse- 
quences which  might  have  been  apprehended  from  a  col- 
lision betwixt  the  parties.  But  when  it  is  considered  how 
severely  he  had  been  agitated  by  apprehensions  for  his 
child's  safety  and  health,  too  well  justified  by  the  fate  of 
those  who  had  preceded  her,  it  will  not  be  thought  surpris- 
ing that  the  infantine  screams  of  Alice  induced  him  to  break 
through  the  barriers  of  form,  and  intrude  farther  into  the 
interior  of  the  house  than  a  sense  of  strict  propriety  might 
have  warranted. 

He  burst  into  the  gilded  chamber,  therefore,  by  a  side 
door  and  narrow  passage,  which  communicated  betwixt  that 
apartment  and  the  hall,  and,  snatching  the  child  up  in  his 
arms,  endeavored  by  a  thousand  caresses  to  stifle  the  screams 
which  burst  yet  more  violently  from  the  little  girl  on  be- 
holding herself  in  the  arms  of  one  to  whose  voice  and  man- 
ner she  was,  but  for  one  brief  interview,  an  entire  stranger. 

Of  course,  Alice's  shrieks  were  redoubled,  and  seconded 
by  those  of  Julian  Peveril,  who  on  the  appearance  of  this 
second  intruder,  was  frightened  into  resignation  of  every 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  46 

more  manly  idea  of  rescue  than  that  which  consisted  in  in- 
voking assistance  at  the  very  top  of  his  hmgs. 

Alarmed  by  this  noise,  which  in  half  a  minute  became  very 
clamorous.  Lady  Peveril,  with  whose  apartment  the  gilded 
chamber  was  connected  by  a  private  door  of  communication 
opening  into  her  wardrobe,  entered  on  the  scene.  The  instant 
she  appeared,  the  little  Alice,  extricating  herself  from  the 
grasp  of  her  father,  ran  towards  her  protectress,  and  when 
she  had  once  taken  hold  of  her  skirts,  not  only  became  silent, 
but  turned  her  large  blue  eyes,  in  which  the  tears  were  still 
glistening,  with  a  look  of  wonder  rather  than  alarm  towards 
the  strange  lady.  Julian  manfully  brandished  his  reed,  a 
weapon  which  he  had  never  parted  with  during  the  whole 
alarm,  and  stood  prepared  to  assist  his  mother  if  there  should 
be  danger  in  the  encounter  betwixt  her  and  the  stranger. 

In  fact,  it  might  have  puzzled  an  older  person  to  account 
for  the  sudden  and  confused  pause  which  the  Lady  Peveril 
made  as  she  gazed  on  her  unexpected  guest,  as  if  dubious 
whether  she  did  or  did  not  recognize  in  her  still  beautiful, 
though  wasted  and  emaciated,  features  a  countenance  which 
she  had  known  well  under  far  different  circumstances. 

The  stranger  seemed  to  understand  her  cause  of  hesitation, 
for  she  said  in  that  heart-thrilling  voice  which  was  peculiarly 
her  own — ''Time  and  misfortune  have  changed  me  much, 
Margaret,  that  every  mirror  tells  me  ;  yet  methinks  Margaret 
Stanley  might  still  have  known  Charlotte  de  la  Tremouille.''^ 

The  Lady  Peveril  was  little  in  the  custom  of  giviiAg  way  to 
sudden  emotion,  but  in  the  present  case  she  threw  herself  on 
her  knees  in  a  rapture  of  mingled  joy  and  grief,  and,  half 
embracing  those  of  the  stranger,  exclaimed  in  broken  lan- 
guage— "  My  kind,  my  noble  benefactress — the  princely 
Countess  of  Derby — the  royal  Queen  in  Man — could  I  doubt 
your  voice,  your  features,  for  a  moment.  0,  forgive — forgive 
me  !*' 

The  countess  raised  the  suppliant  kinswoman  of  her  hus- 
band's house  with  all  the  grace  of  one  accustomed  from  early 
birth  to  receive  homage  and  to  grant  protection.  She  kissed 
the  Lady  PeveriFs  forehead,  and  passed  her  hand  in  a  carress- 
ing  manner  over  her  face  as  she  said^''  You  too  are  changed, 
my  fair  cousin,  but  it  is  a  change  becomes  you,  from  a  pretty 
and  timid  maiden  to  a  sage  and  comely  matron.  But  my 
own  memory,  which  I  once  held  a  good  one,  has  failed  me 
strangely  if  this  gentleman  be  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril. '^ 

''A  kind  and  good  neighbor  only,  madam,''  said  Lady 
Peveril ;  "  Sir  Geoffrey  is  at  court." 


46  WA  VERLET  NOVELS 

**1  understood  so  much,"  said  the  Countess  of  Derby, 
''when  I  arrived  here  last  night." 

"  How,  madam  !  "  said  Lady  Peveril.  "  Did  you  arrive  at 
Martindale  Castle — at  the  house  of  Margaret  Stanley,  where 
you  have  such  right  to  command,  and  did  not  announce  your 
presence  to  her  ?  " 

**  0, 1  know  you  are  a  dutiful  subject,  Margaret,"  answered 
the  countess,  "  though  it  be  in  these  days  a  rare  character  ; 
but  it  was  our  pleasure,"  she  added  with  a  smile,  "  to  travel 
incognito  ;  and  finding  you  engaged  in  general  hospitality,  we 
desired  not  to  disturb  you  with  our  royal  presence." 

"But  how  and  where  were  you  lodged,  madam?"  said 
Lady  Peveril ;  "  or  why  should  you  have  kept  sec-ret  a  visit 
which  would,  if  made,  have  augmented  tenfold  the  happiness 
of  every  true  heart  that  rejoiced  here  yesterday  ?  " 

"My  lodging  was  well  cared  for  byEllesmere — yourElles- 
mere  now,  as  she  was  formerly  mine  ;  she  has  acted  as  quarter- 
master ere  now,  you  know,  and  on  a  broader  scale.  You 
must  excuse  her — she  had  my  positive  order  to  lodge  me  in 
the  most  secret  part  of  your  castle  (here  she  pointed  to  the 
sliding  panel)  ;  she  obeyed  orders  in  that,  and  I  suppose  also 
in  sending  you  now  hither." 

"  Indeed  I  have  not  yet  seen  her,"  said  the  lady,  "  and 
therefore  was  totally  ignorant  of  a  visit  so  joyful,  so 
surprising." 

'*  And  1,"  said  the  countess,  "  was  equally  surprised  to 
find  none  but  these  beautiful  children  in  the  apartment  where 
I  thought  I  heard  you  moving.  Our  Ellesmere  has  become 
silly  ;  your  good-nature  has  spoiled  her  :  she  has  forgotten 
the  discipline  she  learned  under  me." 

"  I  saw  her  run  through  the  woods,"  said  the  Ladv  Peveril, 
after  a  moment's  recollection,  "undoubtedly  to  seek  the 
person  who  has  charge  of  the  children,  in  order  to  remove 
them." 

"  Your  own  darlings,  I  doubt  not,"  said  the  countess  look- 
ing at  the  children.  "  Margaret,  Providence  has  blessed 
you." 

"  That  is  my  son."  said  Lady  Peveril,  pointing  to  Julian, 
who  stood  devouring  their  discourse  with  greedy  ear  ;  "  the 
little  girl — I  may  call  mine  too." 

Major  Bridgenorth,  who  had  in  the  meantime  again  taken 
up  his  infant,  and  was  engaged  in  caressing  it,  set  it  down 
as  the  Countess  of  Derby  spoke,  sighed  deeply,  and  walked 
towards  the  oriel  window.  He  was  well  aware  that  the  ordi- 
nary rules  of  courtesy  would  have  rendered  it  proper  that  he 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  41 

ihonld  withdraw  entirely,  or  at  least  offer  to  do  so  ;  but  ho 
was  not  a  man  of  ceremonious  politeness,  and  he  had  a  par- 
ticular interest  in  the  subjects  on  which  the  countess's  dis- 
course was  likely  to  turn,  which  induced  him  to  dispense 
wi-th  ceremony.  The  ladies  seemed  indeed  scarce  to  notice 
his  presence.  The  countess  had  now  assumed  a  chair,  and 
motioned  to  the  Lady  Peveril  to  sit  upon  a  stool  which  was 
placed  by  her  side.  "  We  will  have  old  times  once  more, 
though  there  are  here  no  roaring  of  rebel  guns  to  drive  you 
to  take  refuge  at  my  side,  and  almost  in  my  pocket.'' 

"I  have  a  gun,  madam,'' said  little  Julian,  '^and  the  park- 
keeper  is  to  teach  me  how  to  fire  it  next  year." 

*'  I  will  list  you  for  my  soldier,  then,"  said  the  countess. 

''  Ladies  have  no  soldiers,"  said  the  boy,  looking  wistfully 
at  her. 

*'  He  has  the  true  masculine  contempt  of  our  frail  sex,  I 
•ee,"  said  the  countess  ;  *^  it  is  born  with  the  insolent  varlets 
of  mankind,  and  shows  itself  as  soon  as  they  are  out  of  their 
long  clothes.  Did  Ellesmere  never  tell  you  of  Latham 
House  and  Charlotte  of  Derby,  my  little  master  ?  " 

''A  thousand,  thousand  times,"  said  the  boy,  coloring; 
*'  and  how  the  Queen  of  Man  defended  it  six  weeks  against 
three  thousand  Roundheads,  under  Rogue  Harrison,  the 
butcher." 

'^  It  was  your  mother  defended  Latham  House,"  said  the 
countess,  ^'  not  I,  my  little  soldier.  Hadst  thou  been  there, 
thou  hadst  been  the  best  captain  of  the  three." 

'*  Do  not  say  so,  madam,"  said  the  boy,  "  for  mamma  would 
not  touch  a  gun  for  all  the  universe." 

"  Not  I,  indeed,  Julian,"  said  his  mother  ;  "  there  I  was 
for  certain,  but  as  useless-  a  part  of  the  garrison " 

"  You. forget,"  said  the  countess,  you  nursed  our  hospital, 
and  made  lint  for  the  soldiers'  wounds." 

"  But  did  not  papa  come  to  help  you  ?"  said  Julian. 

"  Papa  came  at  last,"  said  the  countess,  *'  and  so  did  Prince 
Rupert ;  but  not,  I  think,  till  they  were  both  heartily  wished 
for.  Do  you  remember  that  morning,  Margaret,  when  the 
Roundheaded  knaves,  that  kept  us  pent  up  so  long,  retreated 
without  bag  or  baggage,  at  the  first  glance  of  the  Prince's 
standards  appearing  on  the  hill ;  and  how  you  took  every 
high-crested  captain  you  saw  for  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  that 
had  been  your  partner  three  months  before  at  the  queen's 
mask  ?  Nay,  never  blush  for  the  thought  of  it — it  was  an 
honest  affection  ;  and  though  it  was  the  music  of  trumpets 
that  accompanied  you  both  to  the  old  chapel,  which  was 


iS  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

almost  entirely  ruined  by  the  enemy's  bullets,  and  though 
Prince  Eupert,  when  he  gave  you  away  at  the  alter,  was 
clad  in  buff  and  bandelier,  with  pistols  in  his  belt,  yet  I  trust 
these  warlike  signs  were  no  type  of  future  discord  ?  " 

"  Heaven  has  been  kind  to  me,"  said  Lady  Peveril,  "  in 
blessing  me  with  an  affectionate  husband." 

"  And  in  preserving  him  to  you/'  said  the  countess,  with 
a  deep  sigh  ;  ''  while  mine,  alas  !  sealed  with  his  blood  his 
devotion  to  his  king.*     0,  had  he  lived  to  see  this  day  !  " 

"  Alas  !  alas  !  that  he  was  not  permitted  ! "  answered 
Lady  Peveril ;  '^  how  had  that  brave  and  noble  earl  rejoiced 
in  the  unhoped-for  redemption  of  our  captivity  !  " 

The  countess  looked  on  Lady  Peveril  with  an  air  of 
surprise. 

^'Thou  hast  not  then  heard,  cousin,  how  it  stands  with 
our  house  ?  How  indeed  had  my  noble  lord  wondered,  had 
he  been  told  that  the  very  monarch  ^for  whom  he  had  laid 
down  his  noble  life  on  the  scaffold  at  Bolton-le-Moor  should 
make  it  his  first  act  of  restored  monarchy  to  complete  the 
destruction  of  our  property,  already  wellnigh  ruined  in  the 
royal  cause,  and  to  persecute  me  his  widow  ! " 

"  You  astonish  me,  madam  ! "  said  the  Lady  Peveril. 
'^  It  cannot  be  that  you — that  you,  the  wife  of  the  gallant, 
the  faithful,  the  murdered  earl — you,  Countess  of  Derby  and 
Queen  in  Man— you,  who  took  on  you  even  the  character  of 
a  soldier,  and  seemed  a  man  when  so  many  men  proved 
women — that  you  should  sustain  evil  from  the  event  which 
has  fulfilled — exceeded — the  hopes  of  every  faithful  subject 
— it  cannot  be  !  " 

^'  Thou  art  as  simple,  I  see,  in  this  world's  knowledge  as 
ever,  my  fair  cousin,"  answered  the  countess.  "  This  res- 
toration, which  has  given  others  security,  has  pladed  me  in 
danger  ;  this  change,  which  relieved  other  Royalists — scarce 
less  zealous,  I  presume  to  think,  than  I — has  sent  me 
here  a  fugitive,  and  in  concealment,  to  beg  shelter  and 
assistance  from  you,  fair  cousin." 

''From  me,"  answered  the  Lady  Peveril — ''from  me, 
whose  youth  your  kindness  sheltered — from  the  wife  of  Pev- 
eril, your  gallant  lord's  companion  in  arms — ^you  have  a 
right  to  command  everything  ;  but,  alas  !  that  you  should 
need  such  assistance  as  I  can  render  !  Forgive  me,  but  it 
seems  like  some  ill-omened  vision  of  the  night  :  I  listen  to 

*  The  Earl  of  Derby  and  King  in  Man  was  beheaded  at  Bolton* 
on-the-Moors,  after  having  been  made  prisoner  in  a  previous  iJcir- 
mish  in  Wiggan  Lane. 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  49 

your  words  as  if  I  hoped  to  be  relieved  from  their  painful 
import  by  awaking/' 

*^  It  is  indeed  a  dream — a  vision/'  said  the  Countess  of 
Derby  ;  "  but  it  needs  no  seer  to  read  it :  the  explanation 
hath  been  long  since  given — ''  Put  not  your  faith  in  princes/' 
I  can  soon  remove  your  surprise.  This  gentleman,  your 
friend,  is  doubtless  honest  9  " 

The  Lady  Peveril  well  knew  that  the  Cavaliers,  like  other 
factions,  usurped  to  themselves  the  exclusive  denomination 
of  the  honest  party,  and  she  felt  some  difficulty  in  explain- 
ing that  her  visitor  was  not  honest  in  that  sense  of  the 
word. 

'*^Had  we  not  better  retire,  madam? "she  said  to  the 
countess,  rising,  as  if  in  order  to  attend  her. 

But  the  countess  retained  her  seat.  ''  It  was  but  a  ques- 
tion of  habit,"  she  said  ;  ^^  the  gentleman's  principles  are 
nothing  to  me,  for  what  I  have  to  tell  you  is  widely  blazed, 
and  I  care  not  who  hears  my  share  of  it.  You  remember — 
you  must  have  heard,  for  I  think  Margaret  Stanley  would 
not  be  indifferent  to  my  fate — that,  after  my  husband's  mur- 
der at  Bolton,  I  took  up  the  standard  which  he  never  dropped 
until  his  death,  and  displayed  it  with  my  own  hand  in  our 
sovereignty  of  Man." 

"  I  did  indeed  hear  so,  madam/'  said  the  Lady  Peveril ; 
"and  that  you  had  bidden  a  bold  defiance  to  the  rebel 
government,  even  after  all  other  parts  of  Britain  had  sub- 
mitted to  them.  My  husband.  Sir  Geoffrey,  designed  at  one 
time  to  have  gone  to  your  assistance  with  some  few  followers  ; 
but  we  learned  that  the  island  was  rendered  to  the  Parlia- 
ment party,  and  that  you,  dearest  lady,  were  thrown  into 
prison." 

''  But  you  heard  not,"  said  the  countess,  '^  how  that  dis- 
aster befell  me.  Margaret,  I  would  have  held  out  that 
island  against  the  knaves  as  long  as  the  sea  continued  to 
flow  around  it.  Till  the  shoals  which  surround  it  had  be- 
come safe  anchorage — till  its  precipices  had  melted  beneath 
the  sunshine — till  of  all  its  strong  abodes  and  castles  not  one 
stone  remained  upon  another,  would  I  have  defended  against 
these  villainous,  hypocritical  rebels  of  my  dear  husband's  he- 
reditary dominion.  The  little  kingdom  of  Man  should  have 
been  yielded  only  when  not  an  arm  was  left  to  wield  a  sword, 
not  a  finger  to  draw  a  trigger,  in  its  defense.  But  treachery 
did  what  force  could  never  have  done.  When  we  had  foiled 
various  attempts  upon  the  island  by  open  force,  treason  ac- 
complished what  Blake  and  Lawson,  with  their  floating 
4 


50  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

castles,  had  found  too  hazardous  an  enterprise  :  a  base  rebel, 
whom  we  had  nursed  in  our  own  bosoms,  betrayed  us  to  the 
enemy.     This  wretch  was  named  Christian " 

Major  Bridgenorth  started  and  turned  towards  the  speaker, 
but  instantly  seemed  to  recollect  himself,  and  again  averted 
his  face.  The  countess  proceeded,  without  noticing  the 
interruption,  which,  however,  rather  surprised  Lady  Peveril, 
who  was  acquainted  with  her  neighbor's  general  habits  of 
indifference  and  apathy,  and  therefore  the  more  surprised  at 
his  testifying  such  sudden  symptoms  of  interest.  She  would 
once  again  have  moved  the  countess  to  retire  to  another 
apartment,  but  Lady  Derby  proceeded  with  too  much  vehe- 
mence to  endure  interruption. 

'^  This  Christian,^'  she  said,  "  had  eat  of  my  lord  his 
sovereign's  bread,  and  drunk  of  his  cup,  even  from  child- 
hood ;  for  his  fathers  had  been  faitnful  servants  to  the  house 
of  Man  and  Derby.  He  himself  had  fought  bravely  by  my 
husband's  side,  and  enjoyed  all  his,  confidence  ;  and  when 
my  princely  earl  was  martyred  by  the  rebels,  he  recommend- 
ed to  me,  amongst  other  instructions  communicated  in  the 
last  message  I  received  from  him,  to  continue  my  confidence 
in  Christian's  fidelity.  I  obeyed,  although  I  never  loved  the 
man.  He  was  cold  and  phlegmatic,  and  utterly  devoid  of 
that  sacred  fire  which  is  the  incentive  to  noble  deeds,  sus- 
pected too  of  leaning  to  the  cold  metaphysics  of  Calvinistic 
subtilty.  But  he  was  brave,  wise,  and  experienced,  and,  as 
the  event  proved,  possessed  but  too  much  interest  with  the 
islanders.  When  these  rude  people  saw  themselves  without 
hope  of  relief,  and  pressed  by  a  blockade,  which  brought 
want  and  disease  into  their  island,  they  began  to  fall  off 
from  the  faith  which  they  had  hitherto  shown." 

"  What !  "  said  the  Lady  Peveril,  ''  could  they  forget 
what  was  due  to  the  widow  of  their  benefactor,  she  who  had 
shared  with  the  generous  Derby  the  task  of  bettering  their 
condition  ? '' 

^'  Do  not  blame  them,*'  said  the  countess  ;  "  the  rude 
herd  acted  but  according  to  their  kind  :  in  present  distress 
they  forgot  former  benefits,  and,  nursed  in  their  earthen 
hovels,  with  spirits  suited  to  their  dwellings,  they  were  in- 
capable of  feeling  the  glory  which  is  attached  to  constancy 
in  suffering.  But  that  Christian  should  have  headed  their 
revolt — that  he,  born  a  gentleman,  and  bred  under  my  mur- 
dered Derby's  own  care  in  all  that  was  chivalrous  and  noble 
— that  he  should  have  forgot  a  hundred  benefits — why  do  I 
talk  of  benefits  ? — that  he  should  have  forgotten  that  kindly 


Pi:VERtL  OF  THE  PJEAK  6i 

interconrse  which  binds  man  to  man  far  more  than  the  reci- 
procity of  obligation — that  he  should  have  headed  the  ruf- 
fians who  broke  suddenly  into  my  apartment,  immured  me 
with  my  infants  in  one  of  my  own  castles,  and  assumed  or 
usurped  the  tyranny  of  the  island — that  this  should  have 
been  done  by  William  Christian,  my  vassal,  my  servant,  my 
friend,  was  a  deed  of  ungrateful  treachery  which  even  this 
age  of  treason  will  scarcely  parallel  ! " 

'*  And  you  were  then  imprisoned,'^  said  the  Lady  Peveril, 
*^  and  in  your  own  sovereignty  !  " 

*'  For  more  than  seven  years  I  have  endured  strict  cap- 
tivity,''  said  the  countess.  '*  I  was  indeed  offered  my  liberty, 
and  even  some  means  of  support,  if  I  would  have  consented 
to  leave  the  island,  and  pledge  my  word  that  I  would  not 
endeavor  to  repossess  my  son  in  his  father's  rights.  But 
they  little  knew  the  princely  house  from  which  I  spring,  and 
as  little  the  royal  house  of  Stanley  which  I  uphold,  who 
hoped  to  humble  Charlotte  of  Tremouille  into  so  base  a  com- 
position. I  would  rather  have  starved  in  the  darkest  and 
lowest  vault  of  Rushin  Castle  than  have  consented  to  aught 
which  might  diminish  in  one  hair's  breadth  the  right  of  my 
son  over  his  father's  sovereignty." 

*'  And  could  not  your  firmness,  in  a  case  where  hope  seemed 
lost,  induce  them  to  be  generous,  and  dismiss  you  without 
conditions  ?  " 

"  They  knew  me  better  than  thou  dost,  wench,^' answered 
the  countess  ;  "  once  at  liberty,  I  had  not  been  long  with- 
out the  means  of  disturbing  their  usurpation,  and  Christian 
would  have  as  soon  uncaged  a  lioness  to  combat  with,  as  have 
given  me  the  slightest  power  of  returning  to  the  struggle 
with  him.  But  time  had  liberty  and  revenge  in  store — I  had 
still  friends  and  partizans  in  the  island,  though  they  were 
compelled  to  give  way  to  the  storm.  Even  among  the  isl- 
anders at  large,  most  had  been  disappointed  in  the  effects 
which  they  expected  from  the  change  of  power.  They  were 
loaded  with  exactions  by  their  nQW  masters,  their  privileges 
were  abridged,  and  their  immunities  abolished,  under  the 
pretext  of  reducing  them  to  the  same  condition  with  the 
other  subjects  of  the  pretended  republic.  When  the  news 
arrived  of  the  changes  which  were  current  in  Britain,  these 
sentiments  were  privately  communicated  to  me.  Calcott 
and  others  acted  with  great  zeal  and  fidelity  ;  and  a  rising, 
effected  as  suddenly  and  effectually  as  that  which  had  made 
me  a  captive,  placed  me  at  liberty  and  in  possession  of  the 
sovereignty  of  Man,  as  regent  for  my  son,  the  youthful  Earl 


52  WAVJEBLEY  NOVELSi 

of  Derby.  Do  you  think  I  enjoyed  that  sovereignty  long 
without  doing  justice  on  that  traitor  Christian  ?" 

''How,  madam?''  said  Lady  Peveril,  who,  though  she 
knew  the  high  and  ambitious  spirit  of  the  countess,  scarce 
anticipated  the  extremities  to  which  it  was  capable  of  hurry- 
ing her.     ''  Have  you  imprisoned  Christian  ?" 

*' Ay,  wench,  in  that  sure  prison  which  felon  never  breaks 
from,''  answered  the  countess. 

Bridgenorth,  who  had  insensibly  approached  them,  and 
was  listening  with  an  agony  of  interest  which  he  was  unable 
any  longer  to  suppress,  broke  in  with  the  stern  exclamation 
— "  Lady,  I  trust  you  have  not  dared " 

The  countess  interrupted  him  in  her  turn.  "I  know  not 
who  you  are  who  question,  and  you  know  not  me  when  you 
speak  to  me  of  that  which  I  dare,  or  dare  not,  do.  But  you 
seem  interested  in  the  fate  of  this  Christian,  and  you  shall 
hear  it.  I  was  no  sooner  placed  in  possession  of  my  right- 
ful power  than  I  ordered  the  Dempster  of  the  island  to  hold 
upon  the  traitor  a  High  Court  of  Justice,  with  all  the  for- 
malities of  the  isle,  as  prescribed  in  its  oldest  records.  The 
court  was  held  in  the  open  air,  before  the  Dempster  and  the 
Keys  of  the  island,  assembled  under  the  vaulted  cope  of 
heaven,  and  seated  on  the  terrace  of  the  Tinwald  Hill,  whero 
of  old  Druid  and  Scald  held  their  courts  of  judgment.  The 
criminal  was  heard  at  length  in  his  own  defense,  which 
amounted  to  little  more  than  those  specious  allegations  of 
public  consideration  which  are  ever  used  to  color  the  ugly 
front  of  treason.  He  was  fully  convicted  of  his  crime,  and 
he  received  the  doom  of  a  traitor." 

"But  which,  I  trust,  is  not  yet  executed  ?"  said  Lady 
Peveril,  not  without  an  invokintary  shudder. 

"  You  are  a  fool,  Margaret,"  said  the  countess,  sharply  ; 
''think  you  I  delayed  such  an  act  of  justice  until  some 
wretched  intrigues  of  the  new  English  court  might  have 
prompted  their  interference  ?  No,  wench  ;  he  passed  from 
the  judgment-seat  to  the  place  of  execution,  with  no  farther 
delay  than  might  be  necessary  far  his  soul's  sake.  He  was 
shot  to  death  by  a  file  of  musketeers  in  the  common  place  of 
execution,  called  Hango  Hill."* 

Bridgenorth  clasped  his  hands  together,  wrung  them,  and 
groaned  bitterly. 

"  As  you  seem  interested  for  this  criminal,"  added  the 
countess,  addressing  Bridgenorth,  "  I  do  him  but  justice  in 

♦  See  Trial  and  Execution  of  Christian.     Note  4. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  53 

reporting  to  you  that  his  death  was  firm  and  manly,  becom- 
ing the  general  tenor  of  his  life,  which,  but  for  that  gross 
act  of  traitorous  ingratitude,  had  been  fair  and  honorable. 
But  what  of  that  ?  The  hypocrite  is  a  saint,  and  the  false 
traitor  a  man  of  honor,  till  opportunity,  that  faithful  touch- 
stone, proves  their  metal  to  be  base." 

*' It  is  false,  woman — it  is  false  \"  said  Bridgenorth,  no 
longer  suppressing  his  indignation. 

"  What  means  this  bearing.  Master  Bridgenorth  ?  "  said 
Lady  Peveril,  much  surprised.  ^^  "What  is  this  Christian  to 
you,  that  you  should  insult  the  Countess  of  Derby  under  my 
roof?" 

"  Speak  not  to  me  of  countesses  and  of  ceremonies,"  said 
Bridgenorth  ;  •'  grief  and  anger  leave  me  no  leisure  for  idle 
observances,  to  humor  the  vanity  of  overgrown  children. 
Oh  Christian,  worthy — well  worthy — of  the  name  thou  didst 
bear  !  My  friend — my  brother — the  brother  of  my  blessed 
Alice — the  only  friend  of  my  desolate  estate  !  art  thou  then 
cruelly  murdered  by  a  female  fury,  who,  but  for  thee,  had 
deservedly  paid  with  her  own  blood  that  of  God's  saints, 
which  she,  as  well  as  her  tyrant  husband,  had  spilled  like 
water  !  Yes,  cruel  murderess  ! "  he  continued,  addressing 
the  countess,  ^'  he  whom  thou  hast  butchered  in  thy  insane 
vengeance  sacrificed  for  many  a  year  the  dictates  of  his  own 
conscience  to  the  interest  of  thy  family,  and  did  not  desert 
it  till  thy  frantic  zeal  for  royalty  had  wellnigh  brought  to 
utter  perdition  the  little  community  in  which  he  was  born. 
Even  in  confining  thee,  he  acted  but  as  the  friends  of  the 
madman,  who  bind  him  with  iron  for  his  own  preservation  ; 
and  for  thee,  as  I  can  bear  witness,  he  was  the  only  barrier 
between  thee  and  the  wrath  of  the  Commons  of  England  ; 
and  but  for  his  earnest  remonstrances,  thou  hadst  suffered 
the  penalty  of  thy  malignancy,  even  like  the  wicked  wife  of 
Ahab." 

'^  Master  Bridgenorth,"  said  Lady  Peveril,  "  I  will  allow 
for  your  impatience  upon  hearing  these  unpleasing  tidings  ; 
but  there  is  neither  use  nor  propriety  in  farther  urging  this 
question.  If  in  your  grief  you  forget  other  restraints,  I 
pray  you  to  remember  that  the  countess  is  my  guest  and 
kinswoman,  and  is  under  such  protection  as  I  can  afford 
her.  I  beseech  you,  in  simple  courtesy,  to  withdraw,  as 
what  must  needs  be  the  best  and  most  becoming  course  in 
these  trying  circumstances." 

'^  Nay,  let  him  remain,"  said  the  countess,  regarding  him 
with  composure,  not  unmingled  with  triumph  5  *'  I  would 


64  WAVERLEr  NOVELS 

not  have  it  otherwise  :  I  would  not  that  my  revenge  should 
oe  summed  up  in  the  stinted  gratification  which  Christianas 
death  hath  afforded.  This  man's  rude  and  clamorous  grief 
only  proves  that  the  retribution  I  have  dealt  has  been 
more  widely  felt  than  by  the  wretched  sufferer  himself. 
I  would  I  knew  that  it  had  but  made  sore  as  many  rebel 
hearts  as  there  were  loyal  breasts  afflicted  by  the  death  of 
my  princely  Derby  ! " 

''So  please  you,  madam/'  said  Lady  Peveril,  ''since 
Master  Bridgenorth  hath  not  the  manners  to  leave  us  upon 
my^  request,  we  will,  if  your  ladyship  lists,  leave  him,  and 
retire  to  my  apartment.  Farewell,  Master  Bridgenorth  ;  we 
will  meet  hereafter  on  better  terms.'' 

"  Pardon  me,  madam,"  said  the  major,  who  had  been 
striding  hastily  through  the  room,  but  now  stood  fast  and 
drew  himself  up,  as  one  who  has  taken  a  resolution — "  to 
yourself  I  have  nothing  to  say  but  what  is  respectful ;  but 
to  this  woman  I  must  speak  as  a  magistrate.  She  has  con- 
fessed a  murder  in  my  presence — the  murder  too  of  my 
brother-in-law — as  a  man  and  as  a  magistrate  I  cannot  per- 
mit her  to  pass  from  hence,  excepting  under  such  custody 
as  may  prevent  her  farther  flight.  She  has  already  con- 
fessed that  she  is  a  fugitive,  and  in  search  of  a  place  of  con- 
cealment, until  she  should  be  able  to  escape  into  foreign 
parts.  Charlotte,  Countess  of  Derby,  I  attach  thee  of  the 
crime  of  which  thou  hast  but  now  made  thy  boast." 

"  I  shall  not  obey  your  arrest,"  said  the  countess,  com- 
posedly ;  *'  I  was  born  to  give,  but  not  to  receive,  such  or- 
ders. "What  have  your  English  laws  to  do  with  my  acts  of 
justice  and  of  government  within  my  son's  hereditary  king- 
dom ?  Am  I  not  Queen  in  Man  as  well  as  Countess  of  Derby  ? 
A  feudatory  sovereign  indeed  ;  but  yet  independent  so  long 
as  my  dues  of  homage  are  duly  discharged.  What  right  can 
you  assert  over  me  ?  '* 

"  That  given  by  the  precept  of  Scripture,"  answered 
Bridgenorth — '* '  Who  so  spilleth  man's  blood,  by  man  shall 
his  blood  be  spilled.*  Think  not  that  the  barbarous  privi- 
leges of  ancient  feudal  customs  will  avail  to  screen  you  from 
the  punishment  due  for  an  Englishman  murdered  upon  pre- 
texts inconsistent  with  the  Act  of  Indemnity." 

"Master  Bridgenorth,"  said  Lady  Peveril,  "if  by  fair 
terms  you  desist  not  from  your  present  purpose,  I  tell  you 
that  I  neither  dare  nor  will  permit  any  violence  against  this 
Jhonorable  lady  within  the  walls  of  my  husband's  castle." 

•*  You  will  find  yourself  unable  to  prevent  me  from  exe- 


FEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  55 

cuting  my  duty,  madam/'  said  Bridgenorth,  whose  native 
obstinacy  now  came  in  aid  of  his  grief  and  desire  of  revenge  ; 
**  I  am  a  magistrate,  and  act  by  authority." 

"I  know  not  that,"  said  Lady  Peveril.  *'That  you  were 
a  magistrate,  Master  Bridgenorth,  under  the  late  usurping 
powers,  I  know  well ;  but  till  I  hear  of  your  having  a  com- 
mission in  the  name  of  the  King,  I  now  hesitate  to  obey  you 
as  such." 

''  I  shall  stand  on  small  ceremony,"  said  Bridgenorth. 
'*Were  I  no  magistrate,  every  man  has  title  to  arrest  for 
murder  against  the  terms  of  the  indemnities  held  out  by  the 
King's  proclamations,  and  I  will  make  my  point  good." 

"What  indemnities?  What  proclamations?"  said  the 
Countess  of  Derby,  indignantly.  "  Charles  Stuart  may,  if 
he  pleases,  and  it  doth  seem  to  please  him,  consort  with 
those  whose  hands  have  been  red  with  the  blood,  and  black- 
ened with  the  plunder,  of  his  father  and  of  his  loyal  subjects. 
He  may  forgive  them  if  he  will,  and  count  their  deeds  good 
service.  What  has  that  to  do  with  this  Christian's  oifense 
against  me  and  mine  ?  Born  a  Manxman,  bred  and  nursed 
in  the  island,  he  broke  the  laws  under  which  he  lived,  and 
died  for  the  breach  of  them,  after  the  fair  trial  which  they 
allowed.  Methinks,  Margaret,  we  have  enough  of  this  peev- 
ish and  foolish  magistrate ;  I  attend  you  to  your  apart- 
ment." 

Major  Bridgenorth  placed  himself  betwixt  them  and  the 
door,  in  a  manner  which  showed  him  determined  to  inter- 
rupt their  passage  ;  when  the  Lady  Peveril,  who  thought 
she  had  already  shown  more  deference  to  him  in  this  matter 
than  her  husband  was  likely  to  approve  of,  raised  her  voice 
and  called  loudly  on  her  steward,  Whitaker.  That  alert 
person,  who  had  heard  high  talking,  and  a  female  voice  with 
which  he  was  unacquainted,  had  remained  for  several  min- 
utes stationed  in  the  ante-room,  much  afflicted  with  the 
anxiety  of  his  own  curiosity.  Of  course  he  entered  in  an 
instant. 

"  Let  three  of  the  men  instantly  take  arms,"  said  his  lady  : 
**  bring  them  into  the  ante-room,  and  wait  my  farther 
orders." 


CHAPTER  VI 

You  shall  have  no  worse  prison  than  my  chamber, 
Nor  jailer  than  myself. 

The  Captain,  - 

The  command  which  Lady  Peveril  laid  on  her  domestics  to 
arm  themselves  was  so  unlike  the  usual  gentle  acquiescence 
of  her  manners  that  Major  Bridgenorth  was  astonished. 
"How  mean  you,  madam  ?"  said  he;  "I  thought  myself 
under  a  friendly  roof." 

"And  you  are  so.  Master  Bridgenorth/'  said  the  Lady 
Peveril,  without  departing  from  the  natural  calmness  of  her 
voice  and  manner  ;  "  but  it  is  a  roof  which  must  not  be  vio- 
lated by  the  outrage  of  one  friend  against  another." 

"  It  is  well,  madam,"  said  Bridgenorth,  turning  to  the 
door  of  the  apartment.  "  The  worthy  Master  Solsgrace  has 
already  foretold  that  the  time  was  returned  when  high  houses 
and  proud  names  should  be  once  more  an  excuse  for  the 
crimes  of  those  who  inhabit  the  one  and  bear  the  other.  I 
believed  him  not,  but  now  see  he  is  wiser  than  I.  Yet  think 
not  I  will  endure  this  tamely.  The  blood  of  my  brother — 
of  the  friend  of  my  bosom — shall  not  long  call  from  the 
altar,  'How  long,  0  Lord,  how  long?*  If  there  is  one 
spark  of  justice  left  in  this  unhappy  England,  that  proud 
woman  and  I  shall  meet  where  she  can  have  no  partial  friend 
to  protect  her." 

So  saying,  he  was  about  to  leave  the  apartment,  when 
Lady  Peveril  said,  "  You  depart  not  from  this  place.  Master 
Bridgenorth,  unless  you  give  me  your  word  to  renounce  all 
purpose  against  the  noble  countess's  liberty  upon  the  present 
occasion." 

"I  would  sooner"  he  answered,  "subscribe  to  my  own 
dishonor,  madam,  written  down  in  express  words,  than  to 
any  such  composition.  If  any  man  offers  to  interrupt  me, 
his  blood  be  on  his  own  head  ! "  As  Major  Bridgenorth 
spoke,  Whitaker  threw  open  the  door,  and  showed  that,  with 
the  alertness  of  an  old  soldier,  who  was  not  displeased  at  see- 
ing things  tend  once  more  towards  a  state  of  warfare,  he  had 
got  witk  kim  fouf  stout  fellows  in  the  knight  of  the  Peak'i 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  bl 

livery,  well  armed  with  swords  and  carabines,  buff-coats,  and 
pistols  at  their  girdles. 

*^ I  will  see,"  said  Major  Bridgenorth,  "if  any  of  thes6 
men  be  so  desperate  as  to  stop  me,  a  free-born  Englishman 
and  a  magistrate,  in  the  discharge  of  my  duty." 

So  saying,  he  advanced  upon  Whitaker  and  his  armed 
assistants  with  his  hand  on  the  hilt  of  his  sword. 

"  Do  not  be  so  desperate.  Master  Bridgenorth,"  exclaimed 
Lady  Peveril ;  and  added  in  the  same  moment,  "Lay  hold 
upon  and  disarm  him,  Whitaker,  but  do  him  no  injury." 

Her  commands  were  obeyed.  Bridgenorth,  though  a  man 
of  moral  resolution,  was  not  one  of  those  who  undertake  to 
cope  in  person  with  odds  of  a  description  so  formidable.  He 
half  drew  his  sword,  and  offered  such  show  of  resistance  as 
made  it  necessary  to  secure  him  by  actual  force  ;  but  then 
yielded  up  his  weapon,  and  declared  that,  submitting  to 
force  which  one  man  was  unable  to  resist,  he  made  those 
who  commanded  and  who  employed  it  responsible  for  assail- 
ing his  liberty  without  a  legal  warrant. 

"  Never  mind  a  warrant  on  a  pinch.  Master  Bridgenorth," 
said  old  Whitaker  ;  "sure  enough  you  have  often  acted  upon 
a  worse  yourself.  My  lady's  word  is  as  good  a  warrant,  sure, 
as  Old  NolFs  commission  ;  and  you  bore  that  many  a  day. 
Master  Bridgenorth,  and,  moreover,  you  laid  me  in  the 
stocks  for  drinking  the  King's  health.  Master  Bridgenorth, 
and  never  cared  a  farthing  about  the  laws  of  England." 

"Hold  your  saucy  tongue,  Whitaker,"  said  the  Lady 
Peveril  ;  "  and  do  you.  Master  Bridgenorth,  not  take  it  to 
heart  that  you  are  detained  prisoner  for  a  few  hours,  until 
the  Countess  of  Derby  can  have  nothing  to  fear  from  your 
pursuit.  I  could  easily  send  an  escort  with  her  that  might 
bid  defiance  to  any  force  you  could  muster  ;  but  I  wish. 
Heaven  knows,  to  bury  the  remembrance  of  old  civil  dissen- 
sions, not  to  awaken  new.  Once  more,  will  you  think  bet= 
ter  on  it — assume  your  sword  again,  and  forget  whom  you 
have  now  seen  at  Martindale  Castle  ?  " 

"  Never,"  said  Bridgenorth.  "  The  crime  of  this  cruel 
woman  will  be  the  last  of  human  injuries  which  I  can  for- 
get. The  last  thought  of  earthly  kind  which  will  leave  me 
will  be  the  desire  that  justice  shall  be  done  on  her." 

"  If  such  be  your  sentiments,"  said  Lady  Peveril,  "  though 
they  are  more  allied  to  revenge  than  to  justice,  I  must  pro- 
vide for  my  friend's  safety  by  putting  restraint  upon  your 
person.  In  this  room  you  will  be  supplied  with  every  nec- 
essary of  life  and  ©very  convenience  ;  and  a  message  shall 


68  WAVEELEY  NOVELS 

relieve  your  domestics  of  the  anxiety  which  your  absence 
from  the  hall  is  not  unlikely  to  occasion.  When  a  few 
hours,  at  most  two  days,  are  over,  I  will  myself  relieve  you 
from  confinement,  and  demand  your  pardon  for  now  acting 
as  your  obstinacy  compels  me  to  do/' 

The  major  made  no  answer,  but  that  he  was  in  her  hands, 
and  must  submit  to  her  pleasure  ;  and  then  turned  sullenly 
to  the  window,  as  if  desirous  to  be  rid  of  their  presence. 

The  countess  and  the  Lady  Peveril  left  the  apartment 
arm-in-arm;  and  the  lady  issued  forth  her  directions  to 
Whitaker  concerning  the  mode  in  which  she  was  desiious 
that  Bridgenorth  should  be  guarded  and  treated  during  his 
temporary  confinement ;  at  the  same  time  explaining  to  him 
that  the  safety  of  the  Countess  of  Derby  required  that  he 
should  be  closely  watched. 

In  all  proposals  for  the  prisoner's  security,  such  as  the 
regular  relief  of  guards  and  the  like,  Whitaker  joyfully  ac- 
quiesced, and  undertook,  body  for  body,  that  he  should  be 
detained  in  captivity  for  the  necessary  period.  But  the  old 
steward  was  not  half  so  docile  when  it  came  to  be  consid- 
ered how  the  captive's  bedding  and  table  should  be  sup- 
plied ;  and  he  thought  Lady  Peveril  displayed  a  very  undue 
degree  of  attention  to  her  prisoner's  comforts.  ^^I  war- 
rant," he  said,  ''  that  the  cuckoldy  Koundhead  ate  enough 
of  our  fat  beef  yesterday  to  serve  him  for  a  month  ;  and  a 
little  fasting  will  do  his  health  good.  Marry,  for  drink  he 
shall  have  plenty  of  cold  water  to  cool  his  hot  liver,  which, 
I  will  be  bound,  is  still  hissing  with  the  strong  liquors  of 
yesterday.  And  as  for  bedding,  there  are  the  fine  dry 
boards,  more  wholesome  than  the  wet  straw  I  lay  upon  when 
1  was  in  the  stocks,  I  trow." 

"  Whitaker,"  said  the  lady,  peremptorily,  •^'  I  desire  you 
to  provide  Master  Bridgenorth's  bedding  and  food  in  the  way 
I  have  already  signified  to  you  ;  and  to  behave  yourself 
towards  him  in  all  civility." 

"  Lack-a-day  !  yes,  my  lady,"  said  Whitaker  ;  *'  you 
shall  have  all  your  directions  punctually  obeyed  ;  but,  as  an 
old  servant,  I  cannot  but  speak  my  mind." 

The  ladies  retired  after  this  conference  with  the  steward 
in  the  ante-chamber,  and  were  soon  seated  in  another  apart- 
ment, which  was  peculiarly  dedicated  to  the  use  of  the  mis- 
tress of  the  mansion  ;  having,  on  the  one  side,  access  to  the 
family  bedroom,  and  on  the  other,  to  the  still-room,  which 
communicated  with  the  garden.  There  was  also  a  small 
door,  which,  ascending  a  few  steps,  led  to  that  balcony, 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  o9 

already  mentioned,  that  overhung  the  kitchen  ;  and  the 
same  passage,  by  a  separate  door,  admitted  to  the  principal 
gallery  in  the  chapel ;  so  that  the  spiritual  and  temporal 
affairs  of  the  castle  were  placed  almost  at  once  within  reach 
of  the  same  regulating  and  directing  eye.* 

In  the  tapestried  room  from  which  issued  these  various 
sallyports,  the  countess  and  Lady  Peveril  were  speedily 
seated  ;  and  the  former,  smiling  upon  the  latter,  said,  as 
she  took  her  hand, ''  Two  things  have  happened  to-day  which 
might  have  surprised  me,  if  anything  ought  to  surprise  me 
in  such  times.  The  first  is,  that  yonder  Koundheaded  fellow 
should  have  dared  to  use  such  insolence  in  the  house  of  Pev- 
eril  of  the  Peak.  If  your  husband  is  yet  the  same  honest  and 
downright  Cavalier  whom  I  once  knew,  and  had  chanced 
to  be  at  home,  he  would  have  thrown  the  knavo  out  of  win- 
dow. But  what  I  wonder  at  still  more,  Margaret,  is  your 
generalship.  I  hardly  thought  you  had  courage  sufficient  to 
have  taken  such  decided  measures,  after  keeping  on  terms 
with  the  man  so  long.  When  he  spoke  of  justices  and  war- 
rants, you  looked  so  overawed  that  I  thought  I  felt  the 
clutch  of  the  parish  beadles  on  my  shoulder  to  drag  me  to 
prison  as  a  vagrant. '' 

*^  We  owe  Master  Bridgenorth  some  deference,  my  dearest 
lady,^^  answered  the  Lady  Peveril  :  '*  he  has  served  us  often 
and  kindly  in  these  late  times  ;  but  neither  he  nor  any  one 
else  shall  insult  the  Countess  of  Derby  in  the  house  of  Mar- 
garet Stanley.  ^^ 

''  Thou  art  become  a  perfect  heroine,  Margaret, ''  replied 
the  Countess. 

^'  Two  sieges  and  alarms  innumerable,^'  said  Lady  Peveril, 
"  may  have  taught  me  presence  of  mind.  My  courage  is,  I 
believe,  as  slender  as  ever." 

"  Presence  of  mind  is  courage, ''  answered  the  countess. 
''  Real  valor  consists  not  in  being  insensible  to  danger,  but 
in  being  prompt  to  confront  and  disarm  it  ;  and  we  may  have 
present  occasion  for  all  that  we  possess,"  she  added  with  some 
slight  emotion, ''  for  I  hear  the  trampling  of  horses'  steps  on 
the  pavement  of  the  court." 

In  one  moment,  the  boy  Julian,  breathless  with  joy,  came 
flying  into  the  room,  to  say  that  papa  was  returned  with  Lam- 
ington  and  Sam  Brewer  ;  and  that  he  was  himself  to  ride 
Black  Hastings  to  the  stable.  In  the  second  the  tramp  of 
the  honest  knight's  heavy  jack-boots  was  heard,  as,  in  his  haste 

*  See  Arrangement  of  Apartments.    Note  5. 


60  WA VEBLEY  NOVELS 

to  see  his  lady,  he  ascended  the  staircase  by  two  steps  at  a 
time.  He  burst  into  the  room,  his  manly  countenance  and 
disordered  dress  showing  marks  that  he  had  been  riding  fast ; 
and  without  looking  to  anyone  else,  caught  his  good  lady  in 
his  arms,  and  kissed  her  a  dozen  of  times.  Blushing  and 
with  some  difficulty.  Lady  Peveril  extricated  herself  from 
Sir  Geoffrey^s  arms  ;  and  in  a  voice  of  bashful  and  gentle 
rebuke,  bid  him,  for  shame,  observe  who  was  in  the  room. 

^'  One,^'  said  the  countess,  advancing  to  him,  *'  who  is 
right  glad  to  see  that  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  though  turned 
courtier  and  favorite,  still  values  the  treasure  which  she  had 
some  share  in  bestowing  upon  him.  You  cannot  have  for- 
got the  raising  of  the  leaguer  of  Latham  House  ?" 

'^  The  noble  Countess  of  Derby  !  "  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  doffing 
his  plumed  hat  with  an  air  of  deep  deference,  and  kissing 
with  much  reverence  the  hand  which  she  held  out  to  him. 
''  I  am  as  glad  to  see  your  ladyship  in  my  poor  house  as  I 
would  be  to  hear  that  they  had  found  a  vein  of  lead  in  the 
Brown  Tor.  I  rode  hard  in  the  hope  of  being  your  escort 
through  the  country.  I  feared  you  might  have  fallen  into 
bad  hands,  hearing  there  was  a  knave  sent  out  with  a  warrant 
from  the  council.'^ 

"  When  heard  you  so  ?  and  from  whom  ?  " 

"It  was  from  Cholmondley  of  Vale  Eoyal,^^  said  Sir  Geof- 
frey ;  "he  is  come  down  to  make  provision  for  your  safety 
through  Cheshire,  and  I  promised  to  bring  you  there  in 
jiafety.  Prince  Eupert,  Ormond,  and  other  friends  do  not 
doubt  the  matter  will  be  driven  to  a  fine  ;  but  they  say  the 
chancellor  and  Harry  Bennet,  and  some  others  of  the  over- 
sea counselors,  are  furious  at  what  they  call  a  breach  of  the 
Kings's  proclamation.  Hang  them,  say  I.  They  left  us  to 
bear  all  the  beating,  and  now  they  are  incensed  that  we 
should  wish  to  clear  scores  with  those  who  rode  us  like  night- 
mares.'' 

"  What  did  they  talk  of  for  my  chastisement  ?''  said  the 
countess. 

"  I  wot  not,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey  ;  "  some  friends,  as  I  said, 
from  our  kind  Cheshire,  and  others,  tried  to  bring  it  to  a 
fine  ;  but  some,  again,  spoke  of  nothing  but  the  Tower,  and 
a  long  imprisonment. ■*' 

"  I  have  suffered  imprisonment  long  enough  for  King 
Charles's  sake,''  said  the  countess,  "  and  have  no  mind  to  un- 
dergo it  at  his  hand.  Besides,  if  I  am  removed  from  the  per- 
sonal superintendence  of  my  son's  dominions  in  Man,  I  know 
not  what  new  usurpation  may  be  attempted  there.     I  must 


PEYEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  6^ 

be  obliged  to  you,  cousin,  to  contrive  that  I  may  get  in  se- 
curity to  Vale  Royal,  and  from  thence  I  know  I  shall  be> 
guarded  safely  to  Liverpool/' 

^'  You  may  rely  on  my  .guidance  and  protection,  noble 
lady,''  answered  her  host,  ^^  though  you  had  come  here  at 
midnight,  and  with  the  rogue's  head  in  your  apron,  like 
Judith  in  the  Holy  Apocrypha,  which  I  joy  to  hear  once 
more  read  in  churches." 

"  Do  the  gentry  resort  much  to  the  court  ?  "  said  the  lady. 

'^  Ay,  madam,"  replied  Sir  Geoffrey  ;  "  and  according  to 
our  saying,  when  miners  do  begin  to  bore  in  these  parts,  it 
is  ^for  the  grace  of  God,  and  what  they  there  may  find."' 

'^Meet  the  old  Cavaliers  with  much  countenance  ?"  con- 
tinued the  countess. 

''  Faith,  madam,  to  speak  truth, '^  replied  the  knight,  ''  the 
King  hath  so  gracious  a  manner  that  it  makes  every  man's 
hopes  blossom,  though  we  have  seen  but  few  that  have 
ripened  into  fruit." 

^^  You  have  not  yourself,  my  cousin,"  answered  the  coun- 
tess, "  had  room  to  complain  of  ingratitude,  I  trust  ?  Few 
have  less  deserved  it  at  the  King's  hand." 

Sir  Geoffrey  was  unwilling,  like  most  prudent  persons,  to 
ioown  the  existence  of  expectations  which  had  proved  falla- 
caus,  yet  had  too  little  art  in  his  character  to  conceal  his 
disppointment  entirely.  "  Who  ?  I,  madam  ?  "  he  said. 
''  Alas  !  what  should  a  poor  country  knight  expect  from  the 
King,  besides  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  in  Whitehall  once 
more,  and  enjoying  his  own  again  ?  And  his  Majesty  was 
very  gracious  when  I  was  presented,  and  spoke  to  me  of  Wor- 
cester, and  of  my  horse,  Black  Hastings — he  had  forgot 
his  name,  though — faith,  and  miae  too,  I  believe,  had  not 
Prince  Rupert  whispered  it  to  him.  And  I  saw  some  old 
friends,  such  as  his  Grace  of  Ormond,  Sir  Marmaduke  Lang- 
dale,  Sir  Philip  Musgrave,  and  so  forth  ;  and  had  a  jolly 
rouse  or  two,  to  the  tune  of  old  times." 

'^  I  should  have  thought  so  many  wounds  received — so 
many  dangers  risked — such  considerable  losses — merited 
something  more  than  a  few  smooth  words,"  said  the  countess. 

"  Nay,  my  lady,  there  were  other  friends  of  mine  who  had 
the  same  thought, '  answered  Peveril.  ''  Some  were  of  opin- 
ion that  the  loss  of  so  many  hundred  acres  of  fair  land  was 
worth  some  reward  of  honor  at  least  ;  and  there  were  who 
thought  my  descent  from  William  the  Conqueror — craving 
your  ladyship's  pardon  for  boasting  it  in  your  presence — 
would  not  have  become  a  higher  rank  or  title  worse  than  the 


62  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

pedigree  of  some  who  have  been  promoted.  But  wbab  said 
the  witty  Duke  of  Buckingham,  forsooth — whose  grandsire 
was  a  Lei^stershire  knight,  rather  poorer,  and  scarce  so  well- 
born as  myself  ?  Why,  he  said  that,  if  all  of  my  degree 
who  deserved  well  of  the  King  in  the  late  times  were  to  be 
made  peers,  the  House  of  Lords  must  meet  upon  Salisbury 
Plain!'' 

*' And  that  bad  jest  passed  for  a  good  argument !"  said 
the  countess ;  ^*  and  well  it  might,  where  good  arguments 
pass  for  bad  jests.  But  here  comes  one  I  must  be  acquainted 
with.'' 

This  was  little  Julian,  who  now  re-entered  the  hall,  lead- 
ing his  little  sister,  as  if  he  had  brought  her  to  bear  witness 
to  the  boastful  tale  which  he  told  his  father,  of  his  having 
manfully  ridden  Black  Hastings  to  the  stable-yard,  alone  in 
the  saddle ;  and  that  Saunders,  though  he  walked  by  the 
Aorse's  head,  did  not  once  put  his  hand  upon  the  rein,  and 
Brewer,  though  he  stood  beside  him,  scarce  held  him  by  the 
knee.  The  father  kissed  the  boy  heartily  ;  and  the  countess, 
calling  him  to  her  so  soon  as  Sir  Geoflrey  had  set  him  down, 
kissed  his  forehead  also,  and  then  surveyed  all  his  features 
with  a  keen  and  penetrating  eye. 

'^  He  is  a  true  Peveril,"  said  she,  ^'  mixed  as  be  should  be 
with  some  touch  of  the  Stanley.  Cousin,  you  must  grant 
me  my  boon,  and  when  I  am  safely  established,  and  have  my 
present  affair  arranged,  you  must  let  me  have  this  little 
Julian  of  yours  some  time  hence,  to  be  nurtured  in  my  house, 
held  as  my  page,  and  the  playfellow  of  the  little  Derby.  I 
trust  in  Heaven,  they  will  be  such  friends  as  their  fathers 
have  been,  and  may  Godsend  them  more  fortunate  times  ! "* 

*'  Marry,  and  I  thank  you  for  the  proposal  with  all  my 
heart,  madam,''  said  the  knight.  "  There  are  so  many  noble 
houses  decayed,  and  so  many  more  in  which  the  exercise  and 
discipline  for  the  training  of  noble  youths  is  given  up  and 
neglected,  that  I  have  often  feared  I  must  have  kept  Gil 
to  be  young  master  at  home  ;  and  I  have  had  too  little  nur- 
ture myself  to  teach  him  much,  and  so  he  would  have  been  a 
mere  hunting,  hawking  knight  of  Derbyshire.  But  in  your 
ladyship's  household,  and  with  the  noble  young  earl,  he  will 
have  all,  and  more  than  all,  the  education  which  I  could 
desirCo" 

*' There  shall  be  no  distinction  betwixt  them,  cousin," 
said  the  countess  ;  "  Margaret  Stanley's  son  shall  be  as 
much  the  object  of  care  to  me  as  my  own,  since  you  are 
See  Pages.    Note  6. 


/  ,7y    ^^  ^'"■' ''  "'""i"'iy'f'fw2'f.''^if^^^. 
Miss  Alice  Bridgenorth. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  63 

kindl}^  disposed  to  entrust  him  to  my  charge.  You  look 
pale,  Margaret/'  she  continued,  "and  the  tear  stands  in 
your  eye.  Do  not  be  so  foolish,  my  love ;  what  I  ask  is 
better  than  you  can  desire  for  your  boy ;  for  the  house  of 
my  father,  the  Duke  de  la  Tremouille,  was  the  most  famous 
school  of  chivalry  in  France ;  nor  have  I  degenerated  from 
him,  or  suffered  any  relaxation  in  that  noble  discipline  which 
trained  young  gentlemen  to  do  honor  to  their  race.  You 
can  promise  your  Julian  no  such  advantages,  if  you  train 
him  up  a  mere  home-bred  youth.'' 

''I  acknowledge  the  importance  of  the  favor,  madam," 
said  Lady  Peveril,  "  and  must  acquiesce  in  what  your  lady- 
ship honors  us  by  proposing,  and  Sir  Geoffrey  approves  of  ; 
but  Julian  is  an  only  child,  and " 

"  An  only  son,"  said  the  countess,  "  but  surely  not  an 
only  child.  You  pay  too  high  deference  to  our  masters,  the 
male  sex,  if  you  allow  Julian  to  engross  all  your  affection, 
and  spare  none  for  this  beautiful  girl." 

So  saying,  she  set  down  Julian,  and,  taking  Alice  Bridge- 
north  on  her  lap,  began  to  caress  her ;  and  there  vi^as,  not- 
withstanding her  masculine  character,  something  so  sweet 
in  the  tone  of  her  voice  and  in  the  cast  of  her  features,  that 
the  child  immediately  smiled,  and  replied  to  her  marks  of 
fondness.  This  mistake  embarrassed  Lady  Peveril  exceed- 
ingly. Knowing  the  blunt  impetuosity  of  her  husband's 
character,  his  devotion  to  the  memory  of  the  deceased  Earl 
of  Derby,  and  his  corresponding  veneration  for  his  widow, 
she  was  alarmed  for  the  consequences  of  his  hearing  the  con- 
duct of  Bridgenorth  that  morning,  and  was  particularly 
desirous  that  he  should  not  learn  it  save  from  herself  in  pri- 
vate, and  after  due  preparation.  But  the  countess's  error 
led  to  a  more  precipitate  disclosure. 

''  That  pretty  girl,  madam,"  answered  Sir  Geoffrey,  "  is 
none  of  ours  ;  I  wish  she  were.  She  belongs  to  a  neighbor 
hard  by — a  good  man,  and,  to  say  truth,  a  good  neighbor, 
though  he  was  carried  off  from  his  allegiance  in  the  late 
times  by  a  d — d  Presbyterian  scoundrel,  who  calls  himself  a 
parson,  and  whom  I  hope  to  fetch  down  from  his  perch  pres- 
ently, with  a  wannion  to  him  !  He  has  been  cock  of  the 
roost  long  enough.  There  are  rods  in  pickle  to  switch  the 
Geneva  cloak  with,  I  can  tell  the  sour-faced  rogues  that 
much.  But  this  child  is  the  daughter  of  Bridgenorth — 
neighbor  Bridgenorth,  of  Moultrassie  Hall." 

*' Bridgenorth  !  "  said  the  countess.  "I  thought  I  had 
known  all  the  honorable  names  in  Derbyshire ;  I  remember 


34  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

nothing  of  Bridgenorth.  But  stay — was  there  not  a  seques- 
trator and  committeeman  of  that  name  ?  Sure,  it  cannot 
be  he." 

Peveril  took  some  shame  to  himself  as  he  replied,  *'It  is 
the  very  man  whom  your  ladyship  means,  and  you  may  con- 
ceive the  reluctance  with  which  I  submitted  to  receive  good 
offices  from  one  of  his  kidney  ;  but  had  I  not  done  so,  I 
should  have  scarce  known  how  to  find  a  roof  to  cover  Dame 
Margaret^s  head." 

The  countess,  as  he  spoke,  raised  the  child  gently  from 
her  lap  and  placed  it  upon  the  carpet,  though  little  Alice 
showed  a  disinclination  to  the  change  of  place,  which  the 
Lady  of  Derby  and  Man  would  certainly  have  indulged  in  a 
child  of  patrician  descent  and  loyal  parentage. 

^'  I  blame  you  not,"  she  said  ;  ''  no  one  knows  what  temp- 
tation will  bring  us  down  to.  Yet  I  did  think  Peveril  of  the 
Peak  would  have  resided  in  its  deepest  cavern  sooner  than 
owed  an  obligation  to  a  regicide." 

'*  Nay,  madam,"  answered  the  knight,  ''  my  neighbor  is 
bad  enough,  but  not  so  bad  as  you  would  make  him  :  he  is 
but  a  Presbyterian — that  I  must  confess — but  not  an  Inde- 
pendent." 

"  A  variety  of  the  same  monster,"  said  the  countess,  "  who 
hallooed  while  the  others  hunted,  and  bound  the  victim 
whom  the  Independents  massacred.  Betwixt  such  sects  I 
prefer  the  Independents.  They  are  at  least  bold,  barefaced, 
merciless  villains,  have  more  of  the  tiger  in  them  and  less  of 
the  crocodile.  I  have  no  doubt  it  was  that  worthy  gentle- 
man who  took  it  upon  him  this  morning " 

She  stopped  short,  for  she  saw  Lady  Peveril  was  vexed 
and  embarrassed. 

*'  I  am,"  she  said,  ''the  most  luckless  of  beings.  I  have 
said  something,  I  know  not  what,  to  distress  you,  Margaret. 
Mystery  is  a  bad   thing,   and   betwixt   us   there  should  be 

1)3 

none. 

'^  There  is  none,  madam,"  said  Lady  Peveril,  something 
impatiently  ;  ''I  waited  but  an  opportunity  to  tell  my  hus- 
band what  had  happened.  Sir  Geollrey,  Master  Bridgenorth 
was  unfortunately  here  when  the  Lady  Derby  and  I  met ; 
and  he  thought  it  part  of  his  duty  to  speak  of " 

*'  To  speak  of  what  ?"  said  the  knight,  bending  his  brows. 
*'  You  were  ever  something  too  fond,  dance,  of  giving  way 
to  the  usurpation  of  such  people." 

"  I  only  mean,"  said  Lady  Peveril,  "  that  as  the  person — 
he  to  whom  Lady  Derby's  story  related — was  the  brother  of 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  65 

his  late  lady,  he  threatened — but  I  cannot  think  that  he  was 

serioas/^ 

"  Threaten  ! — threaten  the  Lady  of  Derby  and  Man  in  my 
house  ! — the  widow  of  my  friend — the  noble  Charlotte  of 
Latham  House  !  By  Heaven,  the  prick-earod  slave  shall 
answer  it  !  How  comes  it  that  my  knaves  threw  him  not  out 
of  the  window  ?  " 

"  Alas  !  Sir  Geoffrey,  you  forget  how  much  we  owe  him," 
said  the  lady. 

*'  Owe  him  !  "  said  the  knight,  still  more  indignant ;  for 
in  his  singleness  of  apprehension  he  conceived  that  his  wife 
alluded  to  pecuniary  obligations;  ^'if  I  do  owe  him  some 
money,  hath  he  not  security  for  it  ?  and  must  he  have  the 
right,  over  and  above,  to  domineer  and  play  the  magistrate 
in  Martindale  Castle  ?  Where  is  he  ?  what  have  you  made 
of  him  ?    I  will — I  must  speak  with  him/' 

''  Be  patient.  Sir  Geoffrey,"  said  the  countess,  who  now 
discerned  the  cause  of  her  kinswoman's  apprehension  ;  *^  and 
be  assured  I  did  not  need  your  chivalry  to  defend  me  against 
this  discourteous  faitour,  as  Mo7'te  d' Arthur  would  have 
called  him.  I  promise  you,  my  kinswoman  hath  fully  righted 
my  wrong ;  and  I  am  so  pleased  to  owe  my  deliverance 
entirely  to  her  gallantry,  that  I  charge  and  command  you, 
as  a  true  knight,  not  to  mingle  in  the  adventure  of  another." 

Lady  Peveril,  who  knew  her  husband's  blunt  and  im- 
patient temper,  and  perceived  that  he  was  becoming  angry, 
now  took  up  the  story,  and  plainly  and  simply  pointed  out 
the  cause  of  Master  Bridgenorth's  interference. 

^^  I  am  sorry  for  it,"  said  the  knight ;  ^^  I  thought  he  had 
more  sense,  and  that  this  happy  change  might  have  done 
some  good  upon  him.  But  you  should  have  told  me  this 
instantly.  It  consists  not  with  my  honor  that  he  should  be 
kept  prisoner  in  this  house,  as  if  I  feared  anything  he  could 
do  to  annoy  the  noble  countess,  while  she  is  under  my  roof, 
or  within  twenty  miles  of  this  castle." 

So  vsaying,  and  bowing  to  the  countess,  he  went  straight  to 
the  gilded  chamber,  leaving  Lady  Peveril  in  great  anxiety 
for  the  event  of  an  angry  meeting  between  a  temper  hasty 
as  that  of  her  husband  and  stubborn  like  that  of  Bridgenorth. 
Her  apprehensions  were,  however,  unnecessary  ;  for  the 
meeting  was  not  fated  to  take  place. 

When  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  having  dismissed  Whitaker  and 
his  sentinels,  entered  the  gilded  chamber,  in  which  he  ex- 
pected to  find  his  captive,  the  prisoner  had  escaped,  and  it 
was  easy  to  see  in  what  manner.  The  sliding  panel  had,  iu 
5 


86  fVA VEBLEY  NOVELS 

the  hurry  of  the  moment,  escaped  the  memory  of  Lady 
Peveril,  and  of  Whitaker,  the  only  persons  who  knew  any- 
thing of  it.  It  was  probable  that  a  chink  had  remained 
open,  sufficient  to  indicate  its  existence  to  Bridgenorth  ; 
who,  withdrawing  it  altogether,  had  found  his  way  into  the 
secret  apartment  with  which  it  communicated,  and  from 
thence  to  the  postern  of  the  castle  by  another  secret  passage, 
which  had  been  formed  in  the  thickness  of  the  wall,  as  is 
not  uncommon  in  ancient  mansions  ;  the  lords  of  which  were 
liable  to  so  many  mutations  of  fortune,  that  they  usually 
contrived  to  secure  some  lurking-place  and  secret  mode  of 
retreat  from  their  fortresses.  That  Bridgenorth  had  dis- 
covered and  availed  himself  of  this  secret  mode  of  retreat 
was  evident ;  because  the  private  doors  communicating  with 
the  postern  and  the  sliding  panel  in  the  gilded  chamber 
were  both  left  open. 

Sir  GeofPrey  returned  to  the  ladies  with  looks  of  perplexity. 
While  he  deemed  Bridgenorth  within  his  reach,  he  was  ap- 
prehensive of  nothing  he  could  do  ;  for  he  felt  himself  his 
superior  in  personal  strength,  and  in  that  species  of  courage 
which  induces  a  man  to  rush,  without  hesitation,  upon  per- 
sonal danger.  But  when  at  a  distance,  he  had  been  for 
many  years  accustomed  to  consider  Bridgenorth's  power  and 
influence  as  something  formidable  ;  and,  notwithstanding 
the  late  change  of  affairs,  his  ideas  so  naturally  reverted  to 
his  neighbor  as  a  powerful  friend  or  dangerous  enemy,  that 
he  felt  more  apprehension  on  the  countess's  score  than  he 
was  willing  to  acknowledge  even  to  himself.  The  countess 
observed  his  downcast  and  anxious  brow,  and  .requested  to 
know  if  her  stay  there  was  likely  to  involve  him  in  any 
trouble  or  in  any  danger. 

"  The  trouble  should  be  welcome, ''  said  Sir  Geoffrey, ''  and 
more  welcome  the  danger,  which  should  come  on  such  an 
account.  My  plan  was,  that  your  ladyship  should  have  hon- 
ored Martindale  with  a  few  days'  residence,  which  might 
have  been  kept  private  until  the  search  after  you  was  ended. 
Had  I  seen  this  fellow  Bridgenorth,  I  have  no  doubt  I  could 
have  compelled  him  to  act  discreetly  ;  but  he  is  now  at 
liberty,  and  will  keep  out  my  reach  ;  and,  what  is  worse,  he 
has  the  secret  of  the  priest's  chamber." 

Here  the  knight  paused,  and  seemed  much  embarrassed. 

*'  You  can,  then,  neither  conceal  nor  protect  me  ?"  said 
the  countess. 

"  Pardon,  my  honored  lady,"  answered  the  knight,  ''and 
let  me  say  out  my  say.     The  plain  truth  is,   that  this  man 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  67 

hath  many  friends  among  the  Presbyterians  here,  who  are 
more  numerous  than  I  would  wish  them  ;  and  if  he  falls  in 
with  the  pursuivant  fellow  who  carries  the  warrant  of  the 
privy  council,  it  is  likely  he  will  back  him  with  force 
sufficient  to  try  to  execute  it.  And  I  doubt  whether  any  of 
our  own  friends  can  be  summoned  together  in  haste  sufficient 
to  resist  such  a  power  as  they  are  like  to  bring  together/' 

"  Nor  would  I  wish  any  friends  to  take  arms,  in  my 
name,  against  the  King's  warrant.  Sir  Greoffrey,''  said  the 
countess. 

*' Nay,  for  that  matter,"  replied  the  knight,  "an  his 
Majesty  will  grant  warrants  against  his  best  friends,  he  must 
look  to  have  them  resisted.  But  the  best  I  can  think  of  in 
this  emergence  is — though  the  proposal  be  something  inhos- 
pitable— that  your  ladyship  should  take  presently  to  horse,  if 
your  fatigue  will  permit.  I  will  mount  also,  with  some 
brisk  fellows,  who  will  lodge  you  safe  at  Vale  Koyal,  though 
the  sheriff  stopped  the  way  with  a  whole  posse  comitatus.'^ 

The  Countess  of  Derby  willingly  acquiesced  in  this  pro- 
posal. She  had  enjoyed  a  night's  sound  repose  in  the  private 
chamber,  to  which  Ellesmere  had  guided  her  on  the  preced- 
ing evening,  and  was  quite  ready  to  resume  her  route,  or 
flight.  "  She  scarce  knew,"  she  said,  "  which  of  the  two  she 
should  term  it." 

Lady  Peveril  wept  at  the  necessity  which  seemed  to  hurry 
her  earliest  friend  and  protectress  from  under  her  roof,  at 
the  instant  when  the  clouds  of  adversity  were  gathering 
around  her  ;  but  she  saw  no  alternative  equally  safe.  Nay, 
however  strong  her  attachment  to.  Lady  Derby,  she  could 
not  but  be  more  readily  reconciled  to  her  hasty  departure, 
when  she  considered  the  inconvenience,  and  even  danger,  in 
which  her  presence,  at  such  a  time,  and  in  such  circum- 
stances, was  likely  to  involve  a  man  so  bold  and  hot-tempered 
as  her  husband  Sir  Geoffrey. 

While  Lady  Peveril,  therefore,  made  every  arrangement 
which  time  permitted  and  circumstances  required  for  the 
countess  prosecuting  her  journey,  her  husband,  whose  spirits 
always  rose  with  the  prospect  of  action,  issued  his  orders  to 
Whitaker  to  get  together  a  few  stout  fellows,  with  back  and 
breast-pieces,  and  steel-caps.  "  There  are  the  two  lackeys, 
and  Outram  and  Saunders,  besides  the  other  groom  fellow, 
and  Roger  Eaine,  and  his  son — but  bid  Roger  not  come  drunk 
again — thyself,  young  Dick  of  the  Dale  and  his  servant,  and 
a  file  or  two  of  the  tenants  ;  we  shall  be  enough  for  any  force 
they  can  make.     All  these  are  fellows  that  will  strike  hard, 


08  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

and  ask  no  question  why  :  their  hands  are  ever  readier  than 
their  tongues,  and  their  mouths  are  more  made  for  drinking 
than  speaking/^ 

Whitaker,  apprised  of  the  necessity  of  the  case,  asked  if 
he  should  not  warn  Sir  Jasper  Cranbourne. 

"  Not  a  word  to  him,  as  you  live/^  said  the  knight ;  *'  this 
may  be  an  outlawry,  as  they  call  it,  for  what  I  know  ;  and 
therefore  I  will  bring  no  lands  or  tenements  into  peril  saving 
mine  own.  Sir  Jasper  hath  had  a  troublesome  time  of  it  for 
manv  a  year.  By  my  will,  he  shall  sit  quiet  for  the  rest  of's 
days?' 


CHAPTER  VII 

Fang.   A  rescue  !  a  rescue  ! 

Mrs.  Quickly.  Good  people,  bring  a  rescue  or  two. 

Henry  VI.  Part  I. 

The  followers  of  Peveril  were  so  well  accustomed  to  the 
sound  of  "  Boot  and  saddle,"  that  they  were  soon  mounted 
and  in  order  ;  and  in  all  the  form,  and  with  some  of  the 
dignity,  of  danger  proceeded  to  escort  the  Countess  of  Derby 
through  the  hilly  and  desert  tract  of  country  which  connects 
the  frontier  of  the  shire  with  the  neighboring  county  of 
Cheshire.  The  cavalcade  moved  with  considerable  precau- 
tion, which  they  had  been  taught  by  the  discipline  of  the 
Civil  Wars.  One  wary  and  well-mounted  trooper  rode  about 
two  hundred  yards  in  advance  ;  followed  at  about  half  that 
distance  by  two  more,  with  their  carabines  advanced,  as  if 
ready  for  action.  About  one  hundred  yards  behind  the  ad- 
vance came  the  main  body  ;  where  the  Countess  of  Derby, 
mounted  on  Lady  Peveril's  ambling  palfrey,  for  her  own  had 
been  exhausted  by  the  journey  from  London  to  Martin  dale 
Castle,  accompanied  by  one  groom  of  approved  fidelity,  and 
one  waiting-maid,  was  attended  and  guarded  by  the  knight 
of  the  Peak  and  three  files  of  good  and  practised  horsemen. 
In  the  rear  came  Whitaker,  with  Lance  Outram,  as  men  of 
especial  trust,  to  whom  the  covering  the  retreat  was  confided. 
They  rode,  as  the  Spanish  proverb  expresses  it,  **with  the 
beard  on  the  shoulder," — looking  around,  that  is,  from  time 
to  time,  and  using  every  precaution  to  have  the  speediest 
knowledge  of  any  pursuit  which  might  take  place. 

But,  however  wise  in  discipline,  Peveril  and  his  followers 
were  somewhat  remiss  in  civil  policy.  The  knight  had  com- 
municated to  Whitaker,  though  without  any  apparent  neces- 
sity, the  precise  nature  of  their  present  expedition  ;  and 
Whitaker  was  equally  communicative  to  his  comrade  Lance, 
the  keeper.  *^It  is  strange  enough,  Master  Whitaker,"  said 
the  latter,  when  he  had  heard  the  case,  ^'and  I  wish  you, 
being  a  wise  man,  would  expound  it — why,  when  we  have 
been  wishing  for  the  King  and  praying  for  the  King,  and 
fighting  for  the  King  and  dying  for  the  King,   for  these 

69 


70  WA  VEBLEY  NO  VELS 

twenty  years,  the  first  thing  we  find  to  do  on  his  return  is  to 
get  into  harness  to  resist  his  warrant  ! " 

''Pooh  !  you  silly  fellow/'  said  Whitaker,  ''that  is  all  you 
know  of  the  true  bottom  of  our  quarrel  I  Why,  man,  we 
fought  for  the  King's  person  against  his  warrant  all  along  from 
the  very  beginning  ;  for  I  remember  the  rogues'  proclama- 
tions, and  so  forth,  always  ran  in  the  name  of  the  King  and 
Parliament/' 

"Ay  !  was  it  even  so  ?"  replied  Lance.  ''Nay,  then,  if 
they  begin  the  old  game  so  soon  again,  and  send  out  war- 
rants in  the  King's  name  against  his  loyal  subjects,  well  fare 
our  stout  knight,  say  I,  who  is  ready  to  take  them  down  in 
their  stocking-soles.  And  if  Bridgenorth  takes  the  chase 
after  us,  I  shall  not  be  sorry  to  have  a  knock  at  him  for  one." 

"  Why,  the  man,  bating  he  is  a  pestilent  Eoundhead  and 
Puritan,"  said  Whitaker,  "  is  no  bad  neighbor.  What  has 
he  done  to  thee,  man  ?  " 

"  He  has  poached  on  the  manor,"  answered  the  keeper. 

"  The  devil  he  has  ! "  replied  Whitaker.  "  Thou  must  be 
jesting.  Lance.  Bridgenorth  is  neither  hunter  nor  hawker  ; 
he  hath  not  so  much  of  honesty  in  him." 

'^  Ay,  but  he  runs  after  game  you  little  think  of,  with  his 
sour,  melancholy  face,  that  would  scare  babes  and  curdle 
milk,"  answered  Lance. 

"Thou  canst  not  mean  the  wenches?"  said  Whitaker; 
"  why,  he  hath  been  melancholy  mad  with  moping  for  the 
death  of  his  wife.  Thou  knowest  our  lady  took  the  child, 
for  fear  he  should  strangle  it,  for  putting  him  in  mind  of  its 
mother,  in  some  of  his  tantrums.  Under  her  favor,  and 
among  friends,  there  are  many  poor  Cavaliers'  children  that 
care  would  be  better  bestowed  upon.     But  to  thy  tale." 

"  Why,  thus  it  runs,"  said  Lance.  "  I  think  you  may 
have  noticed.  Master  Whitaker,  that  a  certain  Mistress 
Deborah  hath  manifested  a  certain  favor  for  a  certain  person 
in  a  certain  household." 

"  For  thyself,  to  wit,"  answered  Whitaker  ;  "  Lance  Out 
ram,  thou  art  the  vainest  coxcomb " 

"  Coxcomb  ! "  said  Lance  ;  "  why,  'twas  but  last  night 
the  whole  family  saw  her,  as  one  would  say,  fling  herself  at 
my  head." 

"  I  would  she  had  been  a  brick-bat,  then,  to  have  broken 
it,  for  thy  imperMnence  and  conceit,"  said  the  steward. 

"  Well,  but  do  but  hearken.  The  next  morning — that  is, 
this  very  blessed  morning — I  thought  of  going  to  lodge  a 
buck  in  the  park,  judging  a  bit  of  venison  might  be  wanted 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  71 

in  the  larder,  after  jj^esterday's  wassail ;  and,  as  I  passed 
under  the  nursery  window,  I  did  but  just  look  up  to  see 
what  madam  governante  was  about ;  and  so  I  saw  her,  through 
the  casement,  whip  on  her  hood  and  scarf  as  soon  as  she  had 
a  glimpse  of  me.  Immediately  after  I  saw  the  still-room 
door  open,  and  made  sure  she  was  coming  through  the 
garden,  and  so  over  the  breach  and  down  to  the  park  ;  and 
so,  thought  I,  'Aha,  Mistress  Deb,  if  you  are  so  ready  to 
dance  after  my  pipe  and  tabor,  I  will  give  you  a  couranto 
before  you  shall  come  up  with  me/  And  so  I  went  down 
Ivy-Tod  Dingle,  where  the  copse  is  tangled  and  the  ground 
swampy,  and  round  by  Haxley  Bottom,  thinking  all  the 
while  she  was  following,  and  laughing  in  my  sleeve  at  the 
round  I  was  giving  her/' 

* '  You  deserved  to  be  ducked  for  it,"  said  Whitaker,  '^  for 
a  weather-headed  puppy  ;  but  what  is  all  this  Jack-a-Lan- 
tern  story  to  Bridgenorth  ?  " 

"  Why,  it  was  all  along  of  he,  man,"  continued  Lance, 
*'  that  is,  of  Bridgenorth,  that  she  did  not  follow  me.  Gad, 
I  first  walked  slow,  and.  then  stopped,  and  then  turned  back 
a  little,  and  then  began  to  wonder  what  she  had  made  of 
herself,  and  to  think  I  had  borne  myself  something  like  a 
jackass  in  the  matter." 

"  That  I  deny,"  said  Whitaker,  ''  never  jackass  but  would 
have  borne  him  better  ;  but  go  on." 

'^  Why,  turning  my  face  towards  the  castle,  I  went  back 
as  if  I  had  my  nose  bleeding,  when,  just  by  the  Copely 
thorn,  which  stands,  you  know,  a  flight-shot  from  the  postern 
gate,  I  saw  Madam  Deb  in  close  conference  with  the  enemy." 

*'  What  enemy  ?  "  said  the  steward. 

"  What  enemy  !  why,  who  but  Bridgenorth  ?  They  kept 
out  of  sight,  and  among  the  copse.  '  But,'  thought  I,  '  it 
is  hard  if  I  cannot  stalk  you,  that  have  stalked  so  many 
bucks.  If  so,  I  had  better  give  my  shafts  to  be  pudding- 
pins.'  So  I  cast  round  the  thicket,  to  watch  their  waters  ; 
and,  may  I  never  bend  cross-bow  again,  if  I  did  not  see  him 
give  her  gold,  and  squeeze  her  by  the  hand  ! " 

"  And  was  that  all  you  saw  pass  between  them  ?  "  said  the 
steward. 

'^  Faith,  and  it  was  enough  to  dismount  me  from  my 
hobby,"  said  Lance.  ''What  !  when  I  thought  I  had  the 
prettiest  girl  in  the  castle  dancing  after  my  whistle,  to  find 
that  she  gave  me  the  bag  to  hold,  and  was  smuggling  in  a 
corner  with  a  rich  old  Puritan  ! " 

"Credit  me,   Lance,  it  is  npt  as  thou  thinkest/'  s^id 


72  WA  VERLEY  NOVELS 

Whitaker.  *'  Bridgenorth  cares  not  for  these  amorous  toys, 
and  thou  thinkest  of  nothing  else.  But  it  is  fitting  our 
knight  should  know  that  he  has  met  with  Deborah  in  secret, 
and  given  her  gold  ;  for  never  Puritan  gave  gold  yet,  but  it 
was  earnest  for  some  deviFs  work  done  or  to  be  done/' 

''  Nay,  but,''  said  Lance,  "  I  would  not  be  such  a  dog-bolt 
as  to  go  and  betray  the  girl  to  our  master.  She  hath  a  right 
to  follow  her  fancy,  as  the  dame  said  who  kissed  her  cow ; 
only  I  do  not  much  approve  her  choice,  that  is  all.  He 
cannot  be  six  years  short  of  fifty  ;  and  a  verjuice  counte- 
nance, under  the  penthouse  of  a  slouched  beaver,  and  bag  of 
meager  dried  bones,  swaddled  up  in  a  black  cloak,  is  no  such 
temptation,  methinks." 

"I  tell  you  once  more,"  said  Whitaker,  ^'you  are  mis- 
taken ;  and  that  there  neither  is  nor  can  be  any  matter  of 
love  between  them,  but  only  some  intrigue,  concerning,  per- 
haps, this  same  noble  Countess  of  Derby.  I  tell  thee,  it 
behooves  my  master  to  know  it,  and  I  will  presently  tell  it 
to  him.'' 

So  saying,  and  in  spite  of  all  the  remonstrances  which 
Lance  continued  to  make  on  behalf  of  Mistress  Deborah,  the 
steward  rode  up  to  the  main  body  of  their  little  party,  and 
mentioned  to  the  knight  and  the  Countess  of  Derby  what  he 
had  just  heard  from  the  keeper,  adding  at  the  same  time 
his  own  suspicions  that  Master  Bridgenorth  of  Moultrassie 
Hall  was  desirous  to  keep  up  some  system  of  espial  in  the 
Castle  of  Martindale,  either  in  order  to  secure  his  menaced 
vengeance  on  the  Countess  of  Derby,  as  authoress  of  his 
brother-in-law's  death,  or  for  some  unknown,  but  probably 
sinister,  purpose. 

The  knight  of  the  Peak  was  filled  with  high  resentment 
at  Whitaker's  communication.  According  to  his  prejudices, 
those  of  the  opposite  faction  were  supposed  to  make  up  by 
wit  and  intrigue  what  they  wanted  in  open  force ;  and  he 
now  hastily  conceived  that  his  neighbor,  whose  prudence  he 
always  respected,  and  sometimes  even  dreaded,  was  main- 
taining, for  his  private  purposes,  a  clandestine  correspond- 
ence with  a  member  of  his  family.  If  this  was  for  the  be- 
trayal of  his  noble  guest,  it  argued  at  once  treachery  and 
presumption ;  or,  viewing  the  whole  as  Lance  had  done,  a 
criminal  intrigue  with  a  woman  so  near  the  person  of  Lady 
Peveril  was  in  itself,  he  deemed,  a  piece  of  sovereign  im- 
pertinence and  disrespect  on  the  part  of  such  a  person  as 
Bridgenorth,  against  whom  Sir  Geoffrey's  anger  was  kindled 
accordingly. 


PSVJERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  W 

"Whitaker  had  scarce  regained  his  post  in  the  rear,  when 
he  again  quitted  it,  and  galloped  to  the  main  body  with  more 
speed  than  before,  with  the  unpleasing  tidings  that  they 
were  pursued  by  half  a  score  of  horsemen  and  better. 

'-  Ride  on  briskly  to  Hartley  Nick,^^said  the  knight,  ''and 
there,  with  God  to  help,  we  will  bide  the  knaves.  Countess 
of  Derby,  one  word  and  a  short  one.  Farewell  !  you  must 
ride  forward  with  Whitaker  and  another  careful  fellow,  and 
let  me  alone  to  see  that  no  one  treads  on  your  skirts. '' 

**  I  will  abide  with  you  and  stand  them,''  said  the  countess  ; 
**you  know  of  old,  I  fear  not  to  look  on  man's  work." 

''  You  must  ride  on,  madam,"  said  the  knight,  ''for  the 
sake  of  the  young  earl  and  the  rest  of  my  noble  friend's 
family.  There  is  no  manly  work  which  can  be  worth  your 
looking  upon  :  it  is  but  child's  play  that  these  fellows  bring 
with  them." 

As  she  yielded  a  reluctant  consent  to  continue  her  flight, 
they  reached  the  bottom  of  Hartley  Nick — a  pass  very  steep 
and  craggy,  and  where  the  road,  or  rather  path,  which  had 
hitherto  passed  over  more  open  ground,  became  pent  up  and 
confined  betwixt  copsewood  on  the  one  side  and  on  the  other 
the  precipitous  bank  of  a  mountain  stream. 

The  Countess  of  Derby,  after  an  affectionate  adieu  to  Sir 
Geoffrey,  and  having  requested  him  to  convey  her  kind  com- 
mendations to  her  little  page-elect  and  his  mother,  proceeded 
up  the  pass  at  a  round  pace,  and,  with  her  attendants  and 
escort,  was  soon  out  of  sight.  Immediately  after  she  had 
disappeared,  the  pursuers  came  up  with  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril, 
who  had  divided  and  drawn  up  his  party  so  as  completely  to 
occupy  the  road  at  three  different  points. 

The  opposite  party  was  led,  as  Sir  Geoffrey  had  expected, 
by  Major  Bridgenorth.  At  his  side  was  a  person  in  black, 
with  a  silver  greyhound  on  his  arm  ;  and  he  was  followed  by 
about  eight  or  ten  inhabitants  of  the  village  of  Martindale- 
Moultrassie,  two  or  three  of  whom  were  officers  of  the  peace, 
and  others  were  personally  known  to  Sir  Geoffrey  as  favorers 
of  the  subverted  government. 

As  the  party  rode  briskly  up.  Sir  Geoffrey  called  to  them 
to  halt  ;  and  as  they  continued  advancing,  he  ordered  his 
own  people  to  present  their  pistols  and  carabines  ;  and  after 
assuming  that  menacing  attitude,  he  repeated,  with  a  voice 
of  thunder,  "Halt,  or  we  fire  !" 

The  other  party  halted  accordingly,  and  Major  Bridgenorth 
advanced  as  if  to  parley. 

"  Why,  how  now,  neighbor,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  as,  il  ^9 


74  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

had  at  that  moment  recognized  him  for  the  first  time,  *'  what 
makes  you  ride  so  sharp  this  morning  ?  Are  you  not  afraid 
to  harm  your  horse  or  spoil  your  spurs  ?  " 

"  Sir  Geoffrey/'  said  the  major,.  **  I  have  no  time  for 
jesting  :  I  am  on  the  King's  affairs/' 

"  Are  you  sure  it  is  not  upon  Old  Noll's,  neighbor  ?  You 
used  to  hold  his  the  better  errand,"  said  the  knight,  with 
a  smile  which  gave  occasion  to  a  horse-laugh  among  his 
followers. 

"  Show  him  your  warrant,"  said  Bridgenorth  to  the  man 
in  black  formerly  mentioned,  who  was  a  pursuivant.  Then 
taking  the  warrant  from  the  officer,  he  gave  it  to  Sir  Geoffrey. 
**  To  this,  at  least,  you  will  pay  regard." 

"  The  same  regard  which  you  would  have  paid  to  it  a 
month  back  or  so,"  said  the  knight,  tearing  the  warrant  to 
shreds.  '' What  a  plague  do  you  stare  at  ?  Do  you  think 
you  have  a  monopoly  of  rebellion,  and  that  we  have  not  a 
right  to  show  a  trick  of  disobedience  in  our  turn  ?  " 

"  Make  way^  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,"  said  Bridgenorth,  *'  or 
you  will  compel  me  to  do  that  I  may  be  sorry  for.  I  am  in 
this  matter  the  avenger  of  the  blood  of  one  of  the  Lord's 
saints,  and  I  will  follow  the  chase  while  Heaven  grants  me 
an  arm  to  make  my  way." 

"  You  shall  make  no  way  here,  but  at  your  peril,"  said 
Sir  Geoffrey  ;  ^  ^  this  is  my  ground.  I  have  been  harassed 
enough  for  these  twenty  years  by  saints,  as  you  call  your- 
selves. I  tell  you,  master,  you  shall  neither  violate  the 
security  of  my  house,  nor  pursue  my  friends  over  the  grounds, 
nor  tamper,  as  you  have  done,  amongst  my  servants,  with 
impunity.  I  have  had  you  in  respect  for  certain  kind  do- 
ings, which  I  will  not  either  forget  nor  deny,  and  you  will 
find  it  difficult  to  make  me  draw  a  sword  or  bend  a  pistol 
against  you  ;  but  offer  any  hostile  movement,  or  presume  to 
advance  a  foot,  and  I  will  make  sure  of  you  presently.  And 
for  these  rascals,  who  come  hither  to  annoy  a  noble  lady  on 
my  bounds,  unless  you  draw  them  off,  I  will  presently  send 
some  of  them  to  the  devil  before  their  time." 

"  Make  room  at  your  proper  peril,"  said  Major  Bridge- 
north  ;  and  he  put  his  right  hand  on  his  holster-pistol.  Sir 
Geoffrey  closed  with  him  instantly,  seized  him  by  the  col- 
lar, and  spurred  Black  Hastings,  checking  him  at  the  same 
time,  so  that  the  horse  made  a  courbette,  and  brought  the 
full  weight  of  his  chest  against  the  counter  of  the  other.  A 
ready  soldier  might,  in  Bridgenorth's  situation,  have  rid 
himself  of  his  adversary  with  a  bullet.     But  Bridgenorth's 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  76 

L  courage,  notwithstanding  his  having  served  some  time  with 
the  Parliament  army,  was  rather  of  a  civil  than  a  military 
character  ;  and  he  was  inferior  to  his  adversary,  not  only  in 
strength  and  horsemanship,  but  also  and  especially  in  the 
daring  and  decisive  resolution  which  made  Sir  Geoffrey  thrust 
himself  readily  into  personal  contest.  While,  therefore,  they 
tugged  and  grappled  together  upon  terms  which  bore  such 
little  accordance  with  their  long  acquaintance  and  close 
neighborhood,  it  was  no  wonder  that  Bridgenorth  should  be 
unhorsed  with  much  violence.  While  Sir  Geoffrey  sprung 
from  the  saddle,  the  party  of  Bridgenorth  advanced  to  rescue 
their  leader,  and  that  of  the  knight  to  oppose  them.  Swords 
were  unsheathed  and  pistols  presented ;  but  Sir  Geoffrey, 
with  the  voice  of  a  herald,  commanded  both  parties  to  stand 
back,  and  to  keep  the  peace. 

The  pursuivant  took  the  hint,  and  easily  found  a  reason 
for  not  prosecuting  a  dangerous  duty.  "  The  warrant,'^  he 
said,  "  was  destroyed.  They  that  did  it  must  be  answerable 
to  the  council ;  for  his  part,  he  could  proceed  no  farther 
without  his  commission/^ 

"Well  said,  and  like  a  peaceable  fellow  ! "  said  Sir  Geof- 
frey. *'  Let  him  have  refreshment  at  the  castle  ;  his  nag  is 
sorely  out  of  condition.  Come,  neighbor  Bridgenorth,  get 
up,  man.  I  trust  you  have  had  no  hurt  in  this  mad  affray  ? 
I  was  loth  to  lay  hand  on  you,  man,  till  you  plucked  out 
your  petronel.^' 

As  he  spoke  thus,  he  aided  the  major  to  rise.  The  pur- 
suivant, meanwhile,  drew  aside  ;  and  with  him  the  constable 
and  head-borough,  who  were  not  without  some  tacit  suspi- 
cion that,  though  Peveril  was  interrupting  the  direct  course 
of  law  in  this  matter,  yet  he  was  likely  to  have  his  offense 
considered  by  favorable  judges ;  and  therefore  it  might  be 
as  much  for  their  interest  and  safety  to  give  way  as  to  op- 
pose him.  But  the  rest  of  the  party,  friends  of  Bridgenorth 
and  of  his  principles,  kept  their  ground  notwithstanding 
this  defection,  and  seemed,  from  their  looks,  sternly  deter- 
mined to  rule  their  conduct  by  that  of  their  leader,  what- 
ever it  might  be. 

But  it  was  evident  that  Bridgenorth  did  not  intend  to  re- 
new the  struggle.  He  shook  himself  rather  roughly  free 
from  the  hands  of  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril ;  but  it  was  not  to 
draw  his  sword.  On  the  contrary,  he  mounted  his  horse 
with  a  sullen  and  dejected  air ;  and,  making  a  sign  to  his 
followers,  turned  back  the  same  road  which  he  had  come. 
Sir  Geoffrey  looked  after  him  for  some  minutes*     *'  Now, 


Tff  WAVERLEJ  NOVELS 

there  goes  a  man/'  said  he,  *'  who  would  have  heen  a  right 
honest  fellow  had  he  not  been  a  Presbyterian.  But  there  is 
no  heartiness  about  them :  they  can  never  forgive  a  fair  fall 
upon  the  sod;  they  bear  malice,  and  that  I  hate  as  I  do  a 
black  coat,  or  a  Geneva  skull-cap,  and  a  pair  of  long  ears 
rising  on  each  side  on't,  like  two  chimneys  at  the  gable  ends 
of  a  thatched  cottage.  They  are  as  sly  as  the  devil  to  boot; 
and,  therefore,  Lance  Outram,  take  two  with  you,  and  keep 
after  them,  that  they  may  not  turn  our  flank,  and  get  on 
the  track  of  the  countess  again  after  all.'' 

"  I  had  as  soon  as  they  should  course  my  lady's  white  tame 
doe,"  answered  Lance,  in  the  spirit  of  his  calling.  He  pro- 
ceeded to  execute  his  master's  orders  by  dogging  Major 
Bridgenorth  at  a  distance,  and  observing  his  course  from 
such  heights  as  commanded  the  country.  But  it  was  soon 
evident  that  no  maneuver  was  intended,  and  that  the  major 
was  taking  the  direct  road  homeward.  When  this  was  as- 
certained. Sir  Geoffrey  dismissed  most  of  his  followers;  and 
retaining  only  his  own  domestics,  rode  hastily  forward  to 
overtake  the  countess. 

It  is  only  necessary  to  say  farther,  that  he  completed  his 
purpose  of  escorting  the  Countess  of  Derby  to  Vale  Royal, 
without  meeting  any  farther  hinderance  by  the  way.  The 
lord  of  the  mansion  readily  undertook  to  conduct  the  high- 
minded  lady  to  Liverpool,  and  the  task  of  seeing  her  safely 
embarked  for  her  son's  hereditary  dominions,  where  there 
was  no  doubt  of  her  remaining  in  personal  safety  until  the 
accusation  against  her  for  breach  of  the  royal  indemnity,  by 
the  execution  of  Christian,  could  be  brought  to  some  compro- 
mise. 

For  a  length  of  time  this  was  no  easy  matter.     Clarendon, 
then  at  the  head  of  Charles's  administration,  considered  her 
rash  action,  though  dictated  by  motives  which  the  human 
breast  must,  in  some  respects,  sympathize  with,  as  calculated 
to  shake  the  restored  tranquillity  of  England,  by  exciting  the 
doubts  and  jealousies  of  those  who  had  to  apprehend  the 
consequences  of  what  is  called,  in  our  own  days,  a  reaction. 
At  the  same  time,  the  high  services  of  this  distinguished 
family,  the  merits  of  the  countess  herself,  the  memory  of 
her  gallant  husband,  and  the  very  peculiar  circumstances  of 
jurisdiction  which  took  the  case  out  of  all  common  rules, 
pleaded  strongly  in  her  favor  ;  and  the  death  of  Christian 
was  at  length  only  punished  by  the  imposition  of  a  heavy 
fine,    amounting,   we   believe,   to   many  thousand   pounds, 
which  was  levied,  with  great  difficalty,  out  of  the  shattered 
«6tates  of  the  young  Earl  of  Derby. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
My  native  land,  good-night  I 


Bybon. 


Lady  Peveril  remained  in  no  small  anxiety  for  several 
hours  after  her  husband  and  the  countess  had  departed  from 
Martindale  Oastle  ;  more  especially  when  she  learned  that 
Major  Bridgenorth,  concerning  whose  motions  she  made  pri- 
vate inquiry,  had  taken  horse  with  a  party,  and  was  gone  to 
the  westward  in  the  same  direction  with  Sir  Geoffrey. 

At  length  her  immediate  uneasiness  in  regard  to  the  safety 
of  her  husband  and  the  countess  was  removed  by  the  arrival 
of  Whitaker,  with  her  husband^s  commendations,  and  an  ac- 
count of  the  scuffle  betwixt  himself  and  Major  Bridgenorth. 

Lady  Peveril  shuddered  to  see  how  nearly  they  had  ap- 
proached to  renewal  of  the  scenes  of  civil  discord  ;  and  while 
she  was  thankful  to  Heaven  for  her  husband^s  immediate 
preservation,  she  could  not  help  feeling  both  regret  and  ap- 
prehension for  the  consequences  of  his  quarrel  with  Major 
Bridgenorth.  They  had  now  lost  an  old  friend,  who  had 
showed  himself  such  under  those  circumstances  of  adversity 
by  which  friendship  is  most  severely  tried  :  and  she  could 
not  disguise  from  herself  that  Bridgenorth,  thus  irritated, 
might  be  a  troublesome,  if  not  a  dangerous,  enemy.  His 
rights  as  a  creditor  he  had  hitherto  used  with  gentleness  ; 
but  if  he  should  employ  rigor.  Lady  Peveril,  whose  attention 
to  domestic  economy  had  made  her  much  better  acquainted 
with  her  husband's  affairs  than  he  was  himself,  foresaw  con- 
siderable inconvenience  from  the  measures  which  the  law  put 
in  his  power.  She  comforted  herself  with  the  recollection, 
however,  that  she  had  still  a  strong  hold  on  Bridgenorth, 
through  his  paternal  affection,  and  from  the  fixed  opinion 
which  he  had  hitherto  manifested  that  his  daughter^'s  health 
could  only  flourish  while  under  her  charge.  But  any  ex- 
pectatioijs  of  reconciliation  which  Lady  Peveril  might  prob- 
ably have  founded  on  this  circumstance  were  frustrated  by 
an  incident  which  took  place  in  the  course  of  the  following 
morning. 

The  governante.  Mistress  Deborah,  who  has  been  already 

77 


78  WAVEMLEY  NOVELS 

mentioned,  went  forth,  as  usnal,  with  the  children,  to  take 
their  morning  exercise  in  the  park,  accompanied  by  Rachael, 
a  girl  who  acted  occasionally  as  her  assistant  in  attending 
upon  them.  But  not  as  usual  did  she  return.  It  was  near 
the  hour  of  breakfast,  when  Ellesmcre,  with  an  unwonted 
degree  of  primness  in  her  mouth  and  manner,  came  to  ac- 
quaint her  lady  that  Mistress  Deborah  had  not  thought 
proper  to  come  back  from  the  park,  though  the  breakfast- 
hour  approached  so  near. 

''  She  will  come,  then,  presently,^' said  Lady  Peveril,  with 
indifference. 

Ellesmere  gave  a  short  and  doubtful  cough,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  say,  that  Rachael  had  been  sent  home  with  little 
Master  Julian,  and  that  Mistress  Deborah  had  been  pleased 
to  say  she  would  walk  on  with  Miss  Bridgenorth  as  far  as 
Moultrassie  Holt ;  which  was  a  point  at  which  the  property 
of  the  major,  as  matters  now  stood,  bounded  that  of  Sir 
G-eoffrey  Peveril. 

"  Is  the  wench  turned  silly,^'  exclaimed  the  lady,  some- 
thing angrily,  '^  that  she  does  not  obey  my  orders,  and  return 
at  regular  hours  ?  " 

''She  may  be  turning  silly,''  said  Ellesmere,  mysteriously  ; 
"  or  she  may  be  turning  too  sly  ;  and  I  think  it  were  as  well 
your  ladyship  looked  to  it." 

'^  Looked  to  what,  Ellesmere  ?  "  said  the  lady,  impatiently. 
*'  You  are  strangely  oracular  this  morning.  If  you  know 
anything  to  the  prejudice  of  this  young  woman,  I  pray  you 
speak  it  out." 

''I  prejudice  !"  said  Ellesmere.  '^  I  scorn  to  prejudice 
man,  woman,  or  child  in  the  way  of  a  fellow-servant ;  only  I 
wish  your  ladyship  to  look  about  you,  and  use  your  own 
eyes,  that  is  all." 

"  You  bid  me  use  my  own  eyes,  Ellesmere  ;  but  I  suspect,'* 
answered  the  lady,  '^  you  would  be  better  pleased  were  I  con- 
tented to  see  through  your  spectacles.  I  charge  you — and 
you  know  I  will  be  obeyed — I  charge  you  to  tell  me  what 
you  know  or  suspect  about  this  girl,  Deborah  Debbitch." 

"  /  see  through  spectacles  ! "  exclaimed  the  indignant 
abigail ;  "  your  ladyship  will  pardon  me  in  that,  for  I  never 
use  them,  unless  a  pair  that  belonged  to  my  poor  .mother, 
which  I  put  on  when  your  ladyship  wants  your  pinners  curi- 
ously wrought.  No  woman  above  sixteen  ever  did  white 
seam  without  barnacles.  And  then  as  to  suspecting,  I  sus- 
pect nothing  ;  for,  as  your  ladyship  hath  taken  Mistress 
Deborah   Debbitch  from  under  my  hand,  to  be  sure  it  is 


PEVEEIL  OF  THE  PEAK  79 

Qeither  bread  nor  butter  of  mine.  Only  (bere  sbe  began  to 
speak  with  her  lips  shut,  so  as  scarce  to  permit  a  sound  to 
issue,  and  mincing  her  words  as  if  she  pinched  off  the  ends 
of  them  before  she  suffered  them  to  escape) — only,  madam, 
if  Mistress  Deborah  goes  so  often  of  a  morning  to  Moul- 
trassie  Holt,  why,  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  she  should 
never  find  the  way  back  again /^ 

'*  Once  more,  what  do  you  mean,  Ellesmere  ?  You  were 
wont  to  have  some  sense  ;  let  me  know  distinctly  what  the 
matter  is." 

'*  Only,  madam,"  pursued  the  abigail,  '^  that,  since  Bridge- 
north  came  back  from  Chesterfield,  and  saw  you  at  the  castle 
hall.  Mistress  Deborah  has  been  pleased  to  carry  the  chil- 
dren every  morning  to  that  place ;  and  it  has  so  happened 
that  she  has  often  met  the  major,  as  they  call  him,  there  in 
his  walks — for  he  can  walk  about  now  like  other  folks — and 
I  warrant  you  she  hath  not  been  the  worse  of  the  meeting — 
one  way  at  least,  for  she  hath  bought  a  new  hood  might 
serve  yourself,  madam  ;  but  whether  she  hath  had  anything 
in  hand  besides  a  piece  of  money,  no  doubt  your  ladyship  is 
best  judge." 

Lady  Peveril,  who  readily  adopted  the  more  good-natured 
construction  of  the  governante's  motives,  could  not  help 
laughing  at  the  idea  of  a  man  of  Bridgenorth^s  precise  ap- 
pearance, strict  principles,  and  reserved  habits  being  sus- 
pected of  a  design  of  gallantry  ;  and  readily  concluded  that 
Mistress  Deborah  had  found  her  advantage  in  gratifying  his 
parental  affection  by  a  frequent  sight  of  his  daughter  during 
the  few  days  which  intervened  betwixt  his  first  seeing  little 
Alice  at  the  castle  and  the  events  which  had  followed.  But 
she  was  somewhat  surprised  when,  an  hour  after  the  usual 
breakfast-hour,  during  which  neither  the  child  nor  Mistress 
Deborah  appeared.  Major  Bridgenorth's  only  man-servant 
arrived  at  the  castle  on  horseback,  dressed  as  for  a  journey  ; 
and  having  delivered  a  letter  addressed  to  herself,  and  an- 
other to  Mistress  Ellesmere,  rode  away  without  waiting  any 
answer. 

There  would  have  been  nothing  remarkable  in  this,  had 
any  other  person  been  concerned  ;  but  Major  Bridgenorth 
was  so  very  quiet  and  orderly  in  all  his  proceedings,  so  little 
liable  to  act  hastily  or  by  impulse,  that  the  least  appear- 
ance of  bustle  where  he  was  concerned  excited  surprise  and 
curiosity. 

Lady  Peveril  broke  her  letter  hastily  open,  and  found  that  • 
ib  CQutiaiiied  the  following  lines  : — 


i)  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

"  For  the  hands  of  the  Honorable  and  Honored 
Lady  Peveril — These  : 

"  Madam — Please  it  your  Ladyship, 

'^I  write  more  to  excuse  myself  to  your  ladyship 
than  to  accuse  either  you  or  others,  in  respect  that  I  am 
sensible  it  becomes  our  frail  nature  better  to  confess  our  own 
imperfections  than  to  complain  of  those  of  others.  Neither 
do  I  mean  to  speak  of  past  times,  particularly  in  respect  of 
your  worthy  ladyship,  being  sensible  that  if  I  have  served 
you  in  that  period  when  our  Israel  might  be  called  trium- 
phant, you  have  more  than  requited  me,  in  giving  to  my 
arms  a  child,  redeemed,  as  it  were,  from  the  vale  of  the 
shadow  of  death.  And  therefore,  as  I  heartily  forgive  to 
your  ladyship  the  unkind  and  violent  measure  which  you 
dealt  to  me  at  our  last  meeting,  seeing  that  the  woman  who 
was  the  cause  of  strife  is  accounted  one  of  your  kindred 
people,  I  do  entreat  you,  in  like  manner,  to  pardon  my  en- 
ticing away  from  your  service  the  young  woman  called 
Deborah  Debbitch,  whose  nurture,  instructed  as  she  hath 
been  under  your  ladyship's  direction,  is,  it  may  be,  indis- 
pensable to  the  health  of  my  dearest  child.  I  had  purposed, 
madam,  with  your  gracious  permission,  that  Alice  should 
have  remained  at  Martindale  Castle,  under  your  kind  charge, 
until  she  could  so  far  discern  betwixt  good  and  evil  that  it 
should  be  matter  of  conscience  to  teach  her  the  way  in  which 
she  should  go.  For  it  is  not  unknown  to  your  ladyship,  and 
in  no  way  do  I  speak  it  reproachfully,  but  rather  sorrowfully, 
that  a  person  so  excellently  gifted  as  yourself — I  mean  touch- 
ing natural  qualities — has  not  yet  received  that  true  light 
which  is  a  lamp  to  the  paths,  but  are  contented  to  stumble 
in  darkness,  and  among  the  graves  of  dead  men.  It  has  been 
my  prayer  in  the  watches  of  the  night  that  your  ladyship 
should  cease  from  the  doctrine  which  causeth  to  err  ;  but  i 
grieve  to  say  that,  our  candlestick  being  about  to  be  removed, 
the  land  will  most  likely  be  involved  in  deeper  darkness  than 
ever ;  and  the  return  of  the  King,  to  which  I  and  many 
looked  forward  as  a  manifestation  of  Divine  favor,  seems  to 
prove  little  else  than  a  permitted  triumph  of  the  Prince  of 
the  Air,  who  setteth  about  to  restore  his  vanity  fair  of  bishops, 
deans,  and  such-like,  extruding  the  peaceful  ministers  of  the 
Word,  whose  labors  have  proved  faithful  to  many  hungry 
souls.  So,  hearing  from  a  sure  hand  that  commission  has 
'gone  forth  to  restore  these  dumb  dogs,  the  followers  of  Laud 
and  of  Williams,  who  were  cast  forth  by  the  late  Parliament, 


PJiVEEIL  OF  THE  PEAK  81 

and  that  an  Act  *>f  Conformity,  or  rather  of  deformity,  of 
worship  was  to  be  expected,  it  is  my  purpose  to  fly  from  the 
wrath  to  come,  and  to  seek  some  corner  where  I  may  dwell 
in  peace  and  enjoy  liberty  of  conscience.  For  who  would 
abide  in  the  sanctuary  after  the  carved  work  thereof  is  broken 
down,  and  when  it  hath  been  made  a  place  for  owls  and 
satyrs  of  the  wilderness  ?  And  herein  I  blame  myself, 
madam,  that  I  went  in  the  singleness  of  my  heart  too  readily 
into  that  carousing  in  the  house  of  feasting,  wherein  my  love 
of  union,  and  my  desire  to  show  respect  to  your  ladyship, 
were  made  a  snare  to  me.  But  I  trust  it  will  be  an  atone- 
ment, that  I  am  now  about  to  absent  myself  from  the  place 
of  my  birth  and  the  house  of  my  fathers,  as  well  as  from  the 
place  which  holdeth  the  dust  of  those  pledges  of  my  affection. 
I  have  also  to  remember,  that  in  this  land  my  honor,  after 
the  worldly  estimation,  hath  been  abated,  and  my  utility 
circumscribed,  by  your  husband,  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  ;  and 
that  without  any  chance  of  my  obtaining  reparation  at  his 
hand,  whereby  I  may  say  the  hand  of  a  kinsman  was  lifted 
np  against  my  credit  and  my  life.  These  things  are  bitter 
to  the  taste  of  the  old  Adam  ;  wherefore,  to  prevent  farther 
bickerings,  and,  it  may  be,  bloodshed,  it  is  better  that  Heave 
this  land  for  a  time.  The  affairs  which  remain  to  be  settled 
between  Sir  Geoffrey  and  myself,  I  shall  place  in  the  hand 
of  the  righteous  Master  Joachim  Win-the-Fight,  an  attorney 
in  Chester[-field],  who  will  arrange  them  with  such  atten- 
tion to  Sir  Geoffrey^s  convenience  as  justice  and  the  due 
exercise  of  the  law  will  permit  ;  for,  as  I  trust  I  shall  have 
grace  to  resist  the  temptation  to  make  the  weapons  of  carnal 
warfare  the  instruments  of  my  revenge,  so  I  scorn  to  effect 
it  through,  the  means  of  Mammon.  Wishing,  madam,  that 
the  Lord  may  grant  you  every  blessing,  and,  in  especial, 
that  which  is  over  all  others,  namely,  the  true  knowledge  of 
Sis  way, 

"  I  remain, 
"  Your  devoted  servant  to  command, 

"  Kalph  Beidgenorth.*' 

"Written  at  Moultrassie  Hall,  this  tenth  day 
of  July  1660." 

So  soon  as  Lady  Peveril  had  perused  this  long  and  singu- 
lar homily,   in  which  it  seemed  to  her  that  her  neighbor 
showed  more  spirit  of  religious  fanaticism  than  she  could  have 
supposed  him  possessed  of,  she  looked  up  and  beheld  Elles- 
6 


de  WAVEBLET  NOVELS, 

mere  with  a  countenance  in  which  mortification  and  an 
affected  air  of  contempt  seemed  to  struggle  together,  who, 
tired  with  watching  the  expression  of  her  mistress's  counte- 
nance, applied  for  confirmation  of  her  suspicions  in  plain 
terms. 

"  I  suppose,  madam,"  said  the  waiting  woman,  "  the  fana- 
tic fool  intends  to  marry  the  wench  ?  They  say  he  goes  to 
shift  the  country.  Truly,  it's  time,  indeed  ;  for,  besides  that 
the  whole  neighborhood  would  laugh  him  to  scorn,  I  should 
not  be  surprised  if  Lance  Outram,  the  keeper,  gave  him  a 
buck's  head  to  bear ;  for  that  is  all  in  the  way  of  his  office.'* 

"  There  is  no  great  occasion  for  your  spite  at  present, 
Ellesmere,"  replied  her  lady.  "  My  letter  says  nothing  of 
marriage  ;  but  it  would  appear  that  Master  Bridgenorth,  be- 
ing to  leave  this  country,  has  engaged  Deborah  to  take  care 
of  his  child  ;  and  I  am  sure  I  am  heartily  glad  of  it,  for  the 
infant's  sake. " 

^'  And  I  am  glad  of  it  for  my  own,*'  said  Ellesmere  ;  "  and, 
indeed,  for  the  sake  of  the  whole  house.  And  your  ladyship 
thinks  she  is  not  like  to  be  married  to  him  ?  Troth,  I  could 
never  see  how  he  should  be  such  an  idiot ;  but  perhaps  she 
is  going  to  do  worse,  for  she  speaks  here  of  coming  to  high 
preferment,  and  that  scarce  comes  by  honest  service  nowa- 
days ;  then  she  writes  me  about  sending  her  things,  as  if  I 
were  mistress  of  the  wardrobe  to  her  ladyship — ay,  and  rec- 
ommends Master  Julian  to  the  care  of  my  age  and  experience, 
forsooth,  as  if  she  needed  to  recommend  the  dear  little  jewel 
to  me ;  and  then,  to  speak  of  my  age.  But  I  will  bundle 
away  her  rags  to  the  hall,  with  a  witness  ! " 

"  Do  it  with  all  civility,"  said  the  lady,  *^and  let  Whita- 
ker  send  her  the  wages  for  which  she  has  served,  and  a  broad- 
piece  over  and  above  ;  for,  though  a  light-headed  young 
woman,  she  was  kind  to  the  children." 

'^  I  know  who  is  kind  to  their  servants,  madam,  and  would 
spoil  the  best  ever  pinned  a  gown." 

"  I  spoiled  a  good  one,  Ellesmere,  when  I  spoiled  thee," 
said  the  lady  ;  '^  but  tell  Mrs.  Deborah  to  kiss  the  little  Alice 
for  me,  and  to  offer  my  good  wishes  to  Major  Bridgenorth, 
for  his  temporal  and  future  happiness." 

She  permitted  no  observation  or  reply,  but  dismissed  her 
attendant,  without  entering  into  farther  particulars. 

When  Ellesmere  had  withdrawn.  Lady  Peveril  began  to 
reflect,  with  much  feeling  of  compassion,  on  the  letter  of 
Major  Bridgenorth — a  person  in  whom  there  were  certain!/ 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  83 

many  excellent  qualities,  but  whom  a  series  of  domestic  mis- 
fortunes, and  the  increasing  gloom  of  a  sincere,  yet  stern, 
feeling  of  devotion,  rendered  lonely  and  unhappy  ;  and  she  had 
more  than  one  anxious  thought  for  the  happiness  of  the  little 
Alice,  brought  up,  as  she  was  likely  to  be,  under  such  a 
father.  Still  the  removal  of  Bridgenorth  was,  on  the  whole,  a 
desirable  event ;  for  while  he  remained  at  the  hall,  it  was 
but  too  likely  that  some  accidental  collision  with  Sir  Geoffrey 
might  give  rise  to  a  rencontre  betwixt  them,  more  fatal  than 
the  last  had  been. 

In  the  meanwhile,  she  could  not  help  expressing  to  Doc- 
tor Dummerar  her  surprise  and  sorrow  that  all  which  she 
had  done  and  attempted  to  establish  peace  and  unanimity 
betwixt  the  contending  factions  had  been  perversely  fated  to 
turn  out  the  very  reverse  of  what  she  had  aimed  at. 

^'  But  for  my  unhappy  invitation,^^  she  said,  ''  Bridgenorth 
would  not  have  been  at  the  castle  on  the  morning  which  suc- 
ceeded the  feast,  would  not  have  seen  the  countess,  and 
would  not  have  incurred  the  resentment  and  opposition  of 
my  husband.  And  but  for  the  King^s  return,  an  event  which 
was  so  anxiously  expected  as  the  termination  of  all  our  calam- 
ities, neither  the  noble  lady  nor  ourselves  had  been  engaged 
in  this  new  path  of  difficulty  and  danger.'* 

"  Honored  madam,'*  said  Doctor  Dummerar,  '*  were  the 
affairs  of  this  world  to  be  guided  implicitly  by  human  wisdom, 
or  were  they  uniformly  to  fall  out  according  to  the  conjec- 
tures of  human  foresight,  events  would  no  longer  be  under 
the  domination  of  that  time  and  chance  which  happen  unto 
all  men,  since  we  should,  in  the  one  case,  work  out  our  own 
purposes  to  a  certainty,  by  our  own  skill,  and,  in  the  othei-, 
regulate  our  conduct  according  to  the  views  of  unerring 
prescience.  But  man  is,  while  in  this  vale  of  tears,  like  an 
uninstructed  bowler,  so  to  speak,  who  thinks  to  attain  the 
jack,  b}^  delivering  his  bowl  straight  forward  upon  it,  being 
ignorant  that  there  is  a  concealed  bias  within  the  spheroid, 
which  will  make  it,  in  all  probability,  swerve  away  and  lose 
the  cast.'* 

Having  spoken  this  with  a  sententious  air,  the  doctor  took 
his  shovel-shaped  hat,  and  went  down  to  the  castle  green  to 
conclude  a  match  of  bowls  with  Whitaker,  which  had  prob- 
ably suggested  this  notable  illustration  of  the  uncertain 
course  of  human  events. 

Two  days  afterwards.  Sir  Geoffrey  arrived.  He  had  waited 
at  Vale  Eoyal  till  he  heard  of  the  countess's  being  safely  em- 
barked for  Man,  and  then  had  posted  homeward  to  hia 


U  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

castle  and  Dame  Margaret.  On  his  way,  he  learned  from 
some  of  his  attendants  the  mode  in  which  his  lady  had  con- 
ducted the  entertainment  which  she  had  given  to  the  neigh- 
borhood at  his  order ;  and,  notwithstanding  the  great  def- 
erence he  usually  showed  in  cases  where  Lady  Peveril  was 
concerned,  he  heard  of  her  liberality  towards  the  Pres- 
byterian party  with  great  indignation. 

"I  could  have  admitted  Bridgenorth,'' he  said,  ''for  he 
always  bore  him  in  neighborly  and  kindly  fashion  till  his 
last  career — I  could  have  endured  him,  so  he  would  have 
drunk  the  King^s  health,  like  a  true  man  ;  but  to  bring  that 
snuffling  scoundrel  Solsgrace,  with  all  his  beggarly,  long- 
eared  congregation,  to  hold  a  conventicle  in  my  father's 
house — to  let  them  domineer  it  as  they  listed — why,  I  would 
not  have  permitted  them  such  liberty  when  they  held  their 
heads  the  highest !  They  never,  in  the  worst  of  times,  found 
any  way  into  Martindale  Castle  but  what  Noll's  cannon  made 
for  them  ;  and,  that  they  should  come  and  cant  there,  when 
good  King  Charles  is  returned, — by  my  hand.  Dame  Mar- 
garet shall  hear  of  it ! " 

But,  notwithstanding  these  ireful  resolutions,  resentment 
altogether  subsided  in  the  honest  knight's  breast  when  he  saw 
the  fair  features  of  his  lady  lightened  with  affectionate  joy 
at  his  return  in  safety.  As  he  took  her  in  his  arms  and 
kissed  her,  he  forgave  her  ere  he  mentioned  her  offense. 

*'  Thou  hast  played  the  knave  with  me,  Meg,^^  he  said, 
shaking  his  head,  and  smiling  at  the  same  time,  ''  and  thou 
knowest  in  what  matter ;  but  I  think  thou  art  true  church- 
woman,  and  didst  only  act  from  some  silly  womanish  fancy 
of  keeping  fair  with  these  roguish  Roundheads.  But  let  me 
have  no  more  of  this.  I  had  rather  Martindale  Castle  were 
again  rent  by  their  bullets  than  receive  any  of  the  knaves 
in  the  way  of  friendship.  I  always  except  Ealph  Bridge- 
north  of  the  hall,  if  he  should  come  to  his  senses  again." 

Lady  Peveril  was  here  under  the  necessity  of  explaining 
what  she  had  heard  of  Master  Bridgenorth — the  disappear- 
ance of  the  governante  with  his  daughter,  and  placed 
Bridgenorth's  letter  in  his  hand.  Sir  Geoffrey  shook  his' 
head  at  first,  and  then  laughed  extremely  at  the  idea  that 
there  was  some  little  love-intrigue  between  Bridgenorth  and 
Mistress  Deborah. 

**  It  is  the  true  end  of  a  dissenter,'*  he  said,  "  to  marry 
his  own  maid-servant  or  some  other  person's.  Deborah  is 
a  good,  likely  wench,  and  on  the  merrier  side  of  thirty,  as  i 
should  think/' 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  85 

*''Na.j — nay/'  said  the  Lady  Peveril,  '^yon  are  as  uncharit- 
able as  EUesmere ;  I  believe  it  but  to  be  affection  of  his 
child/' 

'*  Pshaw  !  pshaw  !  '*  answered  the  knight,  ''  women  are 
eternally  thinking  of  children  ;  but  among  men,  dame,  many 
one  caresses  the  infant  that  he  may  kiss  the  child^s  maid  ; 
and  whereas  the  wonder  or  the  harm  either,  if  Bridgenorth 
should  marry  the  wench  ?  Her  father  is  a  substantial  yeo- 
man ;  his  family  has  had  the  same  farm  since  Bosworth  field 
— as  good  a  pedigree  as  that  of  the  great-grandson  of  a 
Chesterfield  brewer,  I  trow.  But  let  us  hear  what  he  says 
for  himself  ;  I  shall  spell  it  out  if  there  is  any  roguery  in  the 
letter  about  love  and  liking,  though  it  might  escape  your 
innocence.  Dame  Margaret/' 

The  knight  of  the  Peak  began  to  peruse  the  letter  accord- 
ingly, but  was  much  embarrassed  by  the  peculiar  language 
in  which  it  was  couched.  ^^  What  he  means  by  moving  of 
candlesticks,  and  breaking  down  of  carved  wood  in  the 
church,  I  cannot  guess  ;  unless  he  means  to  bring  back  the 
large  silver  candlesticks  which  my  grandsire  gave  to  be 
placed  on  the  altar  at  Martindale-Moultrassie,  and  which 
his  crop-eared  friends,  like  sacrilegious  villains  as  they  are, 
stole  and  melted  down.  And  in  like  manner,  the  only  break- 
ing I  know  of  was  when  they  pulled  down  the  rails  of  the 
communion-table,  for  which  some  of  their  fingers  are  hot 
enough  by  this  time,  and  when  the  brass  ornaments  were 
torn  down  from  the  Peveril  monuments  ;  and  that  was  break- 
ing and  removing  with  a  vengeance.  However,  dame,  the 
upshot  is,  that  poor  Bridgenorth  is  going  to  leave  the  neigh- 
borhood. I  am  truly  sorry  for  it,  though  I  never  saw  him 
oftener  than  once  a  day,  and  never  spoke  to  him  above  two 
words.  But  I  see  how  it  is — that  little  shake  by  the  shoulder 
sticks  in  his  stomach  ;  and  yet,  Meg,  I  did  but  lift  him  out 
of  the  saddle  as  I  might  have  lifted  thee  into  it,  Margaret. 
I  was  careful  not  to  hurt  him  ;  and  I  did  not  think  him  so 
tender  in  point  of  honor  as  to  mind  such  a  thing  much. 
But  I  see  plainly  where  his  sore  lies ;  and  I  warrant  you  I 
will  manage  that  he  stays  at  the  hall,  and  that  you  get  back 
Julian's  little  companion.  Faith,  I  am  sorry  myself  at  the 
thought  of  losing  the  baby,  and  of  having  to  choose  another 
ride  when  it  is  not  hunting-weather  than  round  by  the  hall, 
with  a  word  at  the  window." 

"  I  should  be  very  glad.  Sir  Geoffrey,"  said  Lady  Peveril, 
*'  that  you  could  come  to  a  reconciliation  with  this  worthy 
man,  for  such  I  must  hold  Master  Bridgenorth  to  be." 


86  WA  VERLEY  NO VELS 

**  But  for  his  dissenting  principles,  as  good  a  neighbor  as 
ever  lived/'  said  Sir  Geoffrey. 

'*  But  I  scarce  see/'  continued  the  lady,  "  any  possibility 
of  bringing  about  a  conclusion  so  desirable/' 

**  Tush,  dame,"  answered  the  knight,  *'thou  knowest 
little  of  such  matters.  I  know  the  foot  he  halts  upon,  and 
you  shall  see  him  go  as  sound  as  ever. 

Lady  Peveril  had,  from  her  sincere  affection  and  sound 
sense,  as  good  a  right  to  claim  the  full  confidence  of  her 
husband  as  any  woman  in  Derbyshire  ;  and,  upon  this  oc- 
casion, to  confess  the  truth,  she  had  more  anxiety  to  know 
his  purpose  than  her  sense  of  their  mutual  and  separate 
duties  permitted  her  in  general  to  entertain.  She  could  not 
imagine  what  mode  of  reconciliation  with  his  neighbor  Sir 
Geoffrey  (no  very  acute  judge  of  mankind  or  their  peculiari- 
ties) could  have  devised,  which  might  not  be  disclosed  to 
her  ;  and  she  felt  some  secret  anxiety  lest  the  means  resorted 
to  might  be  so  ill  chosen  as  to  render  the  breach  rather  wider. 
But  Sir  Geoffrey  would  give  no  opening  for  farther  inquiry. 
He  had  been  long  enough  colonel  of  a  regiment  abroad  to 
value  himself  on  the  right  of  absolute  command  at  home  ; 
and  to  all  the  hints  which  his  lady's  ingenuity  could  de- 
vise and  throw  out,  he  only  answered,  *^  Patience,  Dame 
Margaret — patience.  This  is  no  case  for  thy  handling. 
Thou  shalt  know  enough  on't  by  and  by,  dame.  Go,  look 
to  Julian.  Will  the  boy  never  have  done  crying  for  lack  of 
that  little  sprout  of  a  Roundhead  ?  But  we  will  have  little 
Alice  back  with  us  in  two  or  three  days,  and  all  will  be  well 
again." 

As  the  good  knight  spoke  these  words,  a  post  winded  his 
horn  in  the  court,  and  a  large  packet  was  brought  in,  ad- 
dressed to  the  worshipful  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  Justice  of  the 
Peace,  and  so  forth  ;  for  he  had  been  placed  in  authority 
so  soon  as  the  King's  restoration  was  put  upon  a  settled 
basis.  Upon  opening  the  packet,  which  he  did  with  no  small 
feeling  of  importance,  he  found  that  it  contained  the  warrant 
which  he  had  solicited  for  replacing  Doctor  Dummerar  in 
the  parish,  from  which  he  had  been  forcibly  ejected  during 
the  usurpation.* 

Few  incidents  could  have  given  more  delight  to  Sir  Geoffrey. 
He  could  forgive  a  stout,  able-bodied  sectary  or  nonconform- 
ist, who  enforced  his  doctrines  in  the  field  by  downright 
blows  on  the   casques  and  cuirasses   of  himself  and  other 

*See  ejection  of  Presbyterian  clergy.  Note  7. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  ST? 

Cavaliers ;  bnt  he  remembered,  with  most  vindictive  ac- 
curacy, the  triumphant  entrance  of  Hugh  Peters  through 
the  breach  of  his  castle  ;  and  for  his  sake,  without  nicely  dis- 
tinguishing betwixt  sects  or  their  teachers,  he  held  all  who 
mounted  a  pulpit  without  warrant  from  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land— perhaps  he  might  also  in  private  except  that  of  Eome 
— to  be  disturbers  of  the  public  tranquillity,  seducers  of  the 
congregation  from  their  lawful  preachers,  instigators  of  the 
late  Civil  War,  and  men  well  disposed  to  risk  the  fate  of  a 
new  one. 

Then,  on  the  other  hand,  besides  gratifying  his  dislike  to 
Solsgrace,  he  saw  much  satisfaction  in  the  task  of  replacing 
his  old  friend  and  associate  in  sport  and  in  danger,  the 
worthy  Doctor  Dummerar,  in  his  legitimate  rights,  and  in 
the  ease  and  comforts  of  his  vicarage.  He  communicated 
the  contents  of  the  packet,  with  great  triumph,  to  his  lady, 
who  now  perceived  the  sense  of  the  mysterious  paragraph 
in  Major  Bridgenorth's  letter  concerning  the  removal  of  the 
candlestick,  and  the  extinction  of  light  and  doctrine  in  the 
land.  She  pointed  this  out  to  Sir  Geoffrey,  and  endeavored 
to  persuade  him  that  a  door  was  now  opened  to  reconcilia- 
tion with  his  neighbor,  by  executing  the  commission  which 
he  had  received  in  an  easy  and  moderate  manner,  after  due 
delay,  and  with  all  respect  to  the  feelings  both  of  Solsgrace 
and  his  congregation,  which  circumstances  admitted  of. 
This,  the  lady  argued,  would  be  doing  no  injury  whatever 
to  Doctor  Dummerar — nay,  might  be  the  means  of  reconcil- 
ing many  to  his  ministry,  who  might  otherwise  be  disgusted 
with  it  forever,  by  the  premature  expulsion  of  a  favorite 
preacher. 

There  was  much  wisdom,  as  well  as  moderation,  in  this 
advice  ;  and,  at  another  time.  Sir  Geoffrey  would  have  had 
sense  enough  to  have  adopted  it.  But  who  can  act  com- 
posedly or  prudently  in  the  hour  of  triumph  ?  The  ejec- 
tion of  Mr.  Solsgrace  was  so  hastily  executed  as  to  give  it 
some  appearance  of  persecution  ;  though,  more  justly  con- 
sidered, it  was  the  restoring  of  his  predecessor  to  his  legal 
rights.  Solsgrace  himself  seemed  to  be  desirous  to  make 
his  sufferings  as  manifest  as  possible.  He  held  out  to  the 
last;  and  on  the  Sabbath  after  he  had  received  intimation 
of  his  ejection,  attempted  to  make  his  way  to  the  pulpit,  as 
usual,  supported  by  Master  Bridgenorth's  attorney,  Win-the- 
Fight,  and  a  few  zealous  followers. 

Just  as  this  party  came  into  the  churchyard  on  the  one 
Bide,  Dr.  Dummerar,  dressed  in  full  pontificals,  in  a  sort  of 


dg  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

triumphal  procession,  accompanied  by  Peveril  of  the  Peak, 
Sir  Jasper  Oranbourne,  and  other  Cavaliers  of  distinction, 
entered  at  the  other. 

To  prevent  an  actual  struggle  in  the  church,  the  parish 
officers  were  sent  to  prevent  the  farther  approach  of  the 
Presbyterian  minister ;  which  was  effected  without  farther 
damage  than  a  broken  head,  inflicted  by  Roger  Raine,  the 
drunken  innkeeper  of  the  Peveril  Arms,  upon  the  Presby- 
terian attorney  of  Chesterfield. 

Unsubdued  in  spirit,  though  compelled  to  retreat  by  supe- 
rior force,  the  undaunted  Mr.  Solsgrace  retired  to  the  vica- 
rage ;  where,  under  some  legal  pretext  which  had  been 
started  by  Mr.  Win-the-Fight  (in  that  day  unaptly  named), 
he  attempted  to  maintain  himself — bolted  gates,  barred 
windows,  and,  as  report  said  (though  falsely),  made  provision 
of  firearms  to  resist  the  officers.  A  scene  of  clamor  and 
scandal  accordingly  took  place,  which  being  reported  to  Sir 
Geoffrey,  he  came  in  person,  with  some  of  his  attendants 
carrying  arms,  forced  the  outer  gate  and  inner  doors  of  the 
house,  and,  proceeding  to  the  study,  found  no  other  garrison 
save  the  Presbyterian  parson,  with  the  attorney,  who  gave 
up  possession  of  the  premises,  after  making  protestation 
against  the  violence  that  had  been  used. 

The  rabble  of  the  village  being  by  this  time  all  in  motion. 
Sir  Geoffrey,  both  in  prudence  and  in  good-nature,  saw  the 
propriety  of  escorting  his  prisoners,  for  so  they  might  be 
termed,  safely  through  the  tumult ;  and  accordingly  con- 
veyed them  in  person,  through  much  noise  and  clamor,  as 
far  as  the  avenue  of  Moultrassie  Hall,  which  they  chose  foi 
the  place  of  their  retreat. 

But  the  absence  of  Sir  Geoffrey  gave  the  rein  to  some  dis« 
orders,  which,  if  present,  he  would  assuredly  have  restrained. 
Some  of  the  minister's  books  were  torn  and  flung  about  as 
treasonable  and  seditious  trash,  by  the  zealous  parish  officers 
or  their  assistants.  A  quantity  of  his  ale  was  drunk  up  in 
healths  to  the  King  and  Peveril  of  the  Peak.  And  finally, 
the  boys,  who  bore  the  ex-parson  no  good-will  for  his  tyran- 
nical interference  with  their  games  at  skittles,  football,  and 
so  forth,  and  moreover,  remembered  the  unmerciful  length 
of  his  sermons,  dressed  up  an  effigy  with  his  Geneva  gown 
and  band  and  his  steeple-crowned  hat,  which  they  paraded 
through  the  village,  and  burned  on  the  spot  whilom  occupied 
by  a  stately  Maypole,  which  Solsgrace  had  formerly  hewed 
down  with  his  own  reverend  hands. 

Sir  Geoffrey  was  vexed  at  all  this,  and  sent  to  Mr.  Solsgraoe, 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  80 

offering  satisfaction  for  the  goods  which  he  had  lost ;  but 
the  Oalvinistical  divine  replied,  '^  From  a  thread  to  a  shoe- 
latchet,  I  will  not  take  anything  that  is  thine.  Let  the 
shame  of  the  work  of  thy  hands  abide  with  thee." 

Considerable  scandal,  indeed,  arose  against  Sir  Geoffrey 
Peveril,  as  having  proceeded  with  indecent  severity  and  haste 
upon  this  occasion  ;  and  rumor  took  care  to  make  the  usual 
additions  to  the  reality.  It  was  currently  reported  that  the 
desperate  Cavalier,  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  had  fallen  on  a 
Presbyterian  congregation,  while  engaged  in  the  peaceable 
exercise  of  religion,  with  a  band  of  armed  men,  had  slain 
some,  desperately  wounded  many  more,  and  finally  |)ursued 
the  preacher  to  his  vicarage,  which  he  burned  to  the  ground. 
Some  alleged  the  clergyman  had  perished  in  the  flames  ;  and 
the  most  mitigated  report  bore,  that  he  had  only  been  able 
to  escape  by  disposing  his  gown,  cap,  and  band  near  a 
window,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  deceive  them  with  the  idea 
of  his  person  being  still  surrounded  by  flames,  while  he  him- 
self fled  by  the  back  part  of  the  house.  And  although  few 
people  believed  in  the  extent  of  the  atrocities  chus  imputed 
to  our  honest  Cavalier,  yet  still  enough  of  obloquy  attached 
to  him  to  infer  very  serious  consequences,  as  the  reader  will 
learn  at  a  future  period  of  our  history. 


CHAPTER  IX 

Bessus.    'Tis  a  challenge,  sir,  is  it  not? 
Oentleman,    'Tis  an  inviting  to  the  field. 

King  and  no  King, 

Fob  a  day  or  two  after  this  forcible  expulsion  from  the 
vicarage,  Mr.  Solsgrace  continued  his  residence  at  Moul- 
trassie  Hall,  where  the  natural  melancholy  attendant  on  his 
situation  added  to  the  gloom  of  the  owneV  of  the  mansion. 
In  the  morning,  the  ejected  divine  made  excursions  to  differ- 
ent families  in  the  neighborhood,  to  whom  his  ministry  had 
been  acceptable  in  the  days  of  his  prosperity,  and  from  whose 
grateful  recollections  of  that  period  he  now  found  sympathy 
and  consolation.  He  did  not  require  to  be  condoled  with 
because  he  was  deprived  of  an  easy  and  competent  main- 
tenance, and  thrust  out  upon  the  common  of  life,  after  he 
had  reason  to  suppose  he  would  be  no  longer  liable  to  such 
mutations  of  fortune.  The  piety  of  Mr.  Solsgrace  was  sin- 
cere ;  and  if  he  had  many  of  the  uncharitable  prejudices 
against  other  sects  which  polemical  controversy  had  gener- 
ated, and  the  Civil  War  brought  to  a  head,  he  had  also  that 
deep  sense  of  duty  by  which  enthusiasm  is  so  often  dignified, 
and  held  his  very  life  little,  if  called  upon  to  lay  it  down  in 
attestation  of  the  doctrines  in  which  he  believed.  But  he 
was  soon  to  prepare  for  leaving  the  district  which  Heaven, 
he  conceived,  had  assigned  to  him  as  his  corner  of  the  vine- 
yard ;  he  was  to  abandon  his  flock  to  the  wolf  ;  was  to  for- 
sake those  with  whom  he  had  held  sweet  counsel  in  religious 
communion  ;  was  to  leave  the  recently  converted  to  relapse 
into  false  doctrines,  and  forsake  the  wavering,  whom  his  con- 
tinued cares  might  have  directed  into  the  right  path — these 
were  of  themselves  deep  causes  of  sorrow,  and  were  aggra- 
vated, doubtless,  by  those  natural  feelings  with  which  all 
men,  especially  those  whose  duties  or  habits  have  confined 
them  to  a  limited  circle,  regard  the  separation  from  wonted 
scenes  and  their  accustomed  haunts  of  solitary  musing  or 
social  intercourse. 

There  was,  indeed,  a  plan  of  placing  Mr.  Solsgrace  at  the 
head  of  a  Nonconforming  congregation  in  his  present  parish, 
which  his  followers  would  have  readily  consented  to  endow 

90 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  91 

with  a  sufficient  revenue.  But  although  the  Act  for  uni- 
versal conformity  was  not  yet  passed,  such  a  measure  was 
understood  to  be  impending,  and  there  existed  a  general 
opinion  among  the  Presbyterians  that  in  no  hands  was  it 
likely  to  be  more  strictly  enforced  than  in  those  of  Peveril 
of  the  Peak.  Solsgrace  himself  considered  not  only  his  per- 
sonal danger  as  being  considerable — for,  assuming  perhaps 
more  consequence  than  was  actually  attached  to  him  or  his 
productions,  he  conceived  the  honest  knight  to  be  his  mortal 
and  determined  enemy — but  he  also  conceived  that  he  should 
serve  the  cause  of  his  church  by  absenting  himself  from 
Derbyshire. 

**  Less  known  pastors/' he  said,  '*  though  perhaps  more 
worthy  of  the  name,  may  be  permitted  to  assemble  the 
scattered  flocks  in  caverns  or  in  secret  wilds,  and  to  them 
shall  the  gleaning  of  the  grapes  of  Ephraim  be  better  than 
the  vintage  of  Abiezer.  But  I,  that  have  so  often  carried 
the  banner  forth  against  the  mighty — I,  whose  tongue  hath 
testified,  morning  and  evening,  like  the  watchman  upon  the 
tower,  against  Popery,  Prelacy,  and  the  tyrant  of  the  Peak 
— for  me  to  abide  here  were  but  to  bring  the  sword  of  bloody 
vengeance  amongst  you,  that  the  shepherd  might  be  smitten 
and  the  sheep  scattered.  The  shedders  of  blood  have  already 
assailed  me,  even  within  that  ground  which  they  themselves 
call  consecrated  ;  and  yourselves  have  seen  the  scalp  of  the 
righteous  broken,  as  he  defended  my  cause.  Therefore,  I 
will  put  on  my  sandals  and  gird  my  loins,  and  depart  to  a 
far  country,  and  there  do  as  my  duty  shall  call  upon  me, 
whether  it  be  to  act  or  to  suffer,  to  bear  testimony  at  the 
stake  or  in  the  pulpit.^' 

Such  were  the  sentiments  which  Mr.  Solsgrace  expressed 
to  his  desponding  friends,  and  which  he  expatiated  upon  at 
more  length  with  Major  Bridgenorth  ;  not  failing,  with 
friendly  zeal,  to  rebuke  the  haste  which  the  latter  had  shown 
to  thrust  out  the  hand  of  fellowship  to  the  Amalekite  woman, 
whereby  he  reminded  him,  "He  had  been  rendered  her  slave 
and  bondsman  for  a  season,  like  Samson,  betrayed  by  Deli- 
lah, and  might  have  remained  longer  in  the  house  of  Dagon, 
had  not  Heaven  pointed  to  him  a  way  out  of  the  snare.  Also, 
it  sprung  originally  from  the  major's  going  up  to  feast  in 
the  high  place  of  Baal,  that  he  who  was  the  champion  of  the 
truth  was  stricken  down  and  put  to  shame  by  the  enemy,even 
in  the  presence  of  the  host." 

These  objurgations  seeming  to  give  some  offense  to  Major 
Bridgenorth,  who  liked  no  better  than  any  other  men  to  hear 


fiSp  WA  VEBLEY  NOVELS 

of  his  own  mishaps,  and  at  the  same  time  to  have  them  im« 
puted  to  his  own  misconduct,  the  worthy  divine  proceeded  to 
take  shame  to  himself  for  his  own  sinful  compliance  in  that 
matter ;  for  to  the  vengeance  justly  due  for  that  unhappy 
dinner  at  Martindale  Castle,  ^'  which  was/'  he  said,  *^a  cry- 
ing of  peace  when  there  was  no  peace,  and  a  dwelling  in  the 
tents  of  sin,''  he  imputed  his  ejection  from  his  living,  with 
the  destruction  of  some  of  his  most  pithy  and  highly  prized 
volumes  of  divinity,  with  the  loss  of  his  cap,  gown,  and  band, 
and  a  double  hogshead  of  choice  Derby  ale. 

The  mind  of  Major  Bridgenorth  was  strongly  tinged  with 
devotional  feeling,  which  his  late  misfortunes  had  rendered 
more  deep  and  solemn  ;  and  it  is  therefore  no  wonder  that, 
when  he  heard  these  arguments  urged  again  and  again  by  a 
past  jr  whom  he  so  much  respected,  and  who  was  now  a  con- 
fessor in  the  cause  of  their  joint  faith,  he  began  to  look  back 
with  disapproval  on  his  own  conduct,  and  to  suspect  that  he 
had  permitted  himself  to  be  seduced  by  gratitude  towards 
Lady  Peveril,  and  by  her  special  arguments  in  favor  of  a 
mutual  and  tolerating  liberality  of  sentiments,  into  an  action 
which  had  a  tendency  to  compromise  his  religious  and  politi- 
cal principles. 

One  morning,  as  Major  Bridgenorth  had  wearied  himself 
with  several  details  respecting  the  arrangement  of  his  affairs, 
he  was  resposing  in  the  leathern  easy-chair,  beside  the  latticed 
window — a  posture  which,  by  natural  association,  recalled  to 
him  the  memory  of  former  times,  and  the  feelings  with  which, 
he  was  wont  to  expect  the  recurring  visit  of  Sir  Geoffrey, 
who  brought  him  news  of  his  child's  welfare.  ''  Surely,"  he 
said,  thinking  as  it  were,  aloud,  ^^  there  was  no  sin  in  the 
kindness  with  which  1  then  regarded  that  man." 

Solsgrace,  who  was  in  the  apartment,  and  guessed  what 
passed  through  his  friend's  mind,  acquainted  as  he  was  with 
every  point  of  his  history,  replied — '^  When  God  caused  Elijah 
to  be  fed  by  ravens,  while  hiding  at  the  brook  Cherith,  we 
hear  not  of  his  fondling  the  unclean  birds,  whom,  contrary 
to  their  ravening  nature,  a  miracle  compelled  to  minister  to 
him." 

''It  may  be  so,"  answered  Bridgenorth,  '^'^yet  the  flap  ot 
their  wings  must  have  been  gracious  in  the  ear  of  the  famished 
prophet,  like  the  tread  of  his  horse  in  mine.  The  ravens, 
doubtless,  resumed  their  nature  when  the  season  was  passed, 
and  even  so  it  has  fared  with  him.  Hark  ! "  he  exclaimed, 
starting,  *'I  hear  his  horse's  hoof-tramp  even  now." 

It  was  seldom  that  the  echoes  of  that  silent  house  and 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  08 

courtyard  were  awakened  by  the  trampling  of  horses,  but 
such  was  now  the  case. 

Both  Bridgenorth  and  Solsgrace  were  surprised  at  the 
sound,  and  even  disppsed  to  anticipate  some  farther  oppres- 
sion on  the  part  of  government,  when  the  major^s  old  servant 
introduced,  with  little  ceremony  (for  his  manners  were  nearly 
as  plain  as  his  master^s),  a  tall  gentleman  on  the  farther  side 
of  middle  life,  whose  vest  and  cloak,  long  hair,  slouched  hat, 
and  drooping  feather,  announced  him  as  a  Cavalier.  He 
bowed  formally,  but  courteously,  to  both  gentlemen,  and  said 
that  he  was  ''Sir  Jasper  Cranbourne,  charged  with  an  es- 
pecial message  to  Master  Ealph  Bridgenorth  of  Moultrassie 
Hall,  by  his  honorable  friend  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  of  the  Peak, 
and  that  he  requested  to  know  whether  Master  Bridgenorth 
would  be  pleased  to  receive  his  acquittal  of  commission  here 
or  elsewhere.''' 

''  Anything  which  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  can  have  to  say  to 
me,"  said  Major  Bridgenorth,  "  may  be  told  instantly,  and 
before  my  friend,  from  whom  I  have  no  secrets." 

*'  The  presence  of  any  other  friend  were,  instead  of  being 
objectionable,  the  thing  in  the  world  most  to  be  desired," 
said  Sir  Jasper,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  and  looking  at 
Mr,  Solsgrace ;  ''  but  this  gentleman  seems  to  be  a  sort  of 
clergyman." 

**  I  am  not  conscious  of  any  secrets,"  answered  Bridge- 
north,  ''nor  do  I  desire  to  have  any,  in  which  a  clergyman 
is  an  unfitting  confidant." 

''  At  your  pleasure,"  replied  Sir  Jasper.  ''  The  confidence, 
for  aught  I  know,  may  be  well  enough  chosen,  for  your  divines 
— always  under  your  favor — have  proven  no  enemies  to  such 
matters  as  I  am  to  treat  with  you  upon." 

''  Proceed,  sir,"  answered  Mr.  Bridgenorth,  gravely  ;  ''  and 
I  pray  you  to  be  seated,  unless  it  is  rather  your  pleasure  to 
stand." 

'*  I  must,  in  the  first  place,  deliver  myself  of  my  small  com- 
mission," answered  Sir  Jasper,  drawing  himself  up  ;  "  and 
it  will  be  after  I  have  seen  the  reception  thereof  that  I  shall 
know  whether  I  am  or  am  not  to  sit  down  at  Moultrassie 
Hall.  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  Master  Bridgenorth,  hath  care- 
fully considered  with  himself  the  unhappy  circumstances 
which  at  present  separate  you  as  neighbors.  And  he  remem- 
bers many  passages  in  former  times — I  speak  his  very  words 
— which  incline  him  to  do  all  that  can  possibly  consist  with 
his  honor  to  wipe  out  unkindness  between  you- ;  and  for  this 
desirable  object  he  is  willing  to  condescend  in  a  degree  which 


94  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

as  you  could  not  have  expected,  it  will  no  doubt  give  yon 
great  pleasure  to  learn/' 

"  Allow  me  to  say.  Sir  Jasper,''  said  Bridgenorth,  '^  that 
this  is  unnecessary.  I  have  made  r\o  complaints  of  Sir 
Geoffrey  ;  I  have  required  no  submission  from  him.  I  am 
about  to  leave  this  country  ;  and  what  affairs  we  may  have 
together  can  be  as  well  settled  by  others  as  by  ourselves." 

*'  In  a  word,''  said  the  divine,  '^  the  worthy  Major  Bridge- 
north  hath  had  enough  of  trafficking  with  the  ungodly,  and 
will  no  longer,  on  any  .terms,  consort  with  them." 

'*  Gentlemen  both,"  said  Sir  Jasper,  with  imperturbable 
politeness,  bowing,  ''you  greatly  mistake  the  tenor  of  my 
commission,  which  you  will  do  as  well  to  hear  out  before 
making  any  reply  to  it.  I  think.  Master  Bridgenorth,  you 
cannot  but  remember  your  letter  to  the  Lady  Peveril,  of 
which  I  have  here  a  rough  copy,  in  which  you  complain  of 
the  hard  measure  which  you  have  received  at  Sir  Geoffrey's 
hand,  and  in  particular  when  he  pulled  you  from  your  horse 
at  or  near  Hartley  Nick.  No,  Sir  Geoffrey  thinks  so  well  of 
you  as  to  believe  that,  were  it  not  for  the  wide  difference 
betwixt  his  descent  and  rank  and  your  own,  you  would  have 
sought  to  bring  this  matter  to  a  gentlemanlike  arbitrament, 
as  the  only  mode  whereby  your  stain  may  be  honorably 
wiped  away.  Wherefore,  in  this  slight  note,  he  gives  you,  in 
his  generosity,  the  offer  of  what  you,  in  your  modesty,  for 
to  nothing  else  does  he  impute  your  acquiescence,  have  de- 
clined to  demand  of  him.  And  withal,  I  bring  you  the 
measure  of  his  weapon  ;  and  when  you  have  accepted  the 
cartel  which  I  now  offer  you,  I  shall  be  ready  to  settle  the 
time,  place,  and  other  circumstances  of  your  meeting." 

"  And  I,"  said  Solsgrace,  with  a  solemn  voice,  ''  should  the 
Author  of  Evil  tempt  my  friend  to  accept  of  so  bloodthirsty 
a  proposal,  would  be  the  first  to  pronounce  against  him 
sentence  of  the  greater  excommunication." 

"  It  is  not  you  whom  I  address,  reverend  sir,"  replied  the 
envoy;  ''your  interest,  not  unnaturally,  may  determine  you 
to  be  more  anxious  about  your  patron's  life  than  about  his 
honor.  I  must  know  from  himself  to  which  he  is  disposed  to 
give  the  preference." 

So  saying,  and  with  a  graceful  bow,  he  again  tendered  the 
challenge  to  Major  Bridgenorth.  There  was  obviously  a 
struggle  in  that  gentleman's  bosom  between  the  suggestions 
of  human  honor  and  those  of  religious  principle  ;  but  the 
latter  prevailed.  He  calmly  waived  receiving  the  paper 
which  Sir  Jasper  offered  to  him,  and  spoke  to  the  following 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  W 

purpose  : — '*  It  may  not  be  known  to  you.  Sir  Jasper,  that, 
since  the  general  pouring  out  of  Christian  light  upon  this 
kingdom,  many  solid  men  have  been  led  to  doubt  whether 
the  shedding  humar  ^blood  by  the  hand  of  a  fellow-creature 
be  in  any  respect  justifiable.  And  although  this  rule  appears 
to  me  to  be  scarcely  applicable  to  our  state  in  this  stage  of 
trial,  seeing  that  such  non-resistance,  if  general,  would  sur- 
render our  civil  and  religious  rights  into  the  hands  of  what- 
soever daring  tyrants  might  usurp  the  same  ;  yet  I  am,  and 
have  been,  inclined  to  limit  the  use  of  carnal  arms  to  the 
case  of  necessary  self-defense,  whether  such  regards  our  own 
person  or  the  protection  of  our  country  against  invasion  ;  or 
of  Gur  rights  of  property,  and  the  freedom  of  our  laws  and 
of  our  conscience,  against  usurping  power.  And  as  I  have 
never  shown  myself  unwilling  to  draw  my  sword  in  any  of  the 
latter  causes,  so  you  shall  excuse  my  suffering  it  now  to  re- 
main in  the  scabbard,  when,  having  sustained  a  grievous 
injury,  the  man  who  inflicted  it  summons  me  to  combat, 
either  upon  an  idle  punctilio  or,  as  is  more  likely,  in  mere 
bravado.'' 

"  I  have  heard  you  with  patience,"  said  Sir  Jasper ;  "  and 
now,  Master  Bridgenorth,  take  it  not  amiss  if  I  beseech  you 
to  bethink  yourself  better  on  this  matter.  I  vow  to  Heaven, 
sir,  that  your  honor  lies  a-bleeding  ;  and  that  in  condescend- 
ing to  afford  you  this  fair  meeting,  and  thereby  giving  you 
some  chance  to  stop  its  wounds,  Sir  Geoffrey  has  been 
moved  by  a  tender  sense  of  your  condition,  and  an  earnest 
wish  to  redeem  your  dishonor.  And  it  will  be  but  the  cross- 
ing of  your  blade  with  his  honored  sword  for  the  space  of 
some  few  minutes,  and  you  will  either  live  or  die  a  noble 
and  honored  gentleman  ;  besides  that  the  knight's  exquisite 
skill  of  fence  may  enable  him,  as  his  good-nature  will  incline 
him,  to  disarm  you  with  some  flesh  wound,  little  to  the 
damage  of  your  person,  and  greatly  to  the  benefit  of  your 
reputation." 

'*  The  tender  mercies  of  the  wicked,"  said  Master  Sols- 
grace,  emphatically,  by  way  of  commenting  on  this  speech, 
which  Sir  Jasper  had  uttered  very  pathetically,  *'  are  cruel." 

''  I  pray  to  have  no  farther  interruption  from  your  rever- 
ence," said  Sir  Jasper ;  *'  especially  as  1  think  this  affair 
very  little  concerns  you  ;  and  I  entreat  that  you  permit  m* 
to  discharge  myself  regularly  of  my  commission  from  my 
worthy  friend." 

So  saying,  he  took  his  sheathed  rapier  from  his  belt,  and 
passing  the  point  through  the  silk  thread  which  secured  the 


m  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

letter,  he  once  more,  and  literally  at  sword-point,  gracefully 
tendered  it  to  Major  Bridgenorth,  who  again  waived  it  aside, 
though  coloring  deeply  at  the  same  time,  as  if  he  was  put- 
ting a  marked  constraint  upon  him."^if,  drew  back,  and 
made  Sir  Jasper  Cranbourne  a  deep  bow. 

''Since  it  is  to  be  thus,^^  said  Sir  Jasper,  "  I  must  myself 
do  violence  to  the  seal  of  Sir  Geoffrey's  letter,  and  read  it  to 
you,  that  I  may  fully  acquit  myself  of  the  charge  entrusted 
to  me,  and  make  you.  Master  Bridgenorth,  equally  aware  of 
the  generous  intentions  of  Sir  Geoffrey  on  your  behalf/' 

''  li/*  said  Major  Bridgenorth,  ''  the  contents  of  the  letter 
be  to  no  other  purpose  than  you  have  intimated,  methinks 
farther  ceremony  is  unnecessary  on  this  occasion,  as  I  have 
already  taken  my  course." 

"  Nevertheless,"  said  Sir  Jasper,  breaking  open  the  letter, 
*'it  is  fitting  that  I  read  to  you  the  letter  of  my  worshipful 
friend."     And  he  read  accordingly  as  follows  : — 

**  For  the  worthy  hands  of  Ralph  Bridgenorth,  Esquire, 
of  Moultrassie  Hall — These  : 

■  **  By  the  honored  conveyance  of  the  Worshipful  Sir  Jasper 
Cranbourne,  Knight,  of  Long  Mallington. 

"  Mastee  Bridgenokth — 

"  We  have  been  given  to  understand  by  your  letter 
to  our  loving  wife,  Dame  Margaret  Peveril,  that  you  hold 
hard  construction  of  certain  passages  betwixt  you  and  I,  of 
a  late  date,  as  if  your  honor  should  have  been,  in  some  sort, 
prejudiced  by  what  then  took  place.  And  although  you 
have  not  thought  it  fit  to  have  direct  recourse  to  me,  to  re- 
quest such  satisfaction  as  is  due  from  one  gentleman  of  con- 
dition to  another,  yet  I  am  fully  minded  that  this  proceeds 
only  from  modesty,  arising  out  of  the  distinction  of  our  de- 
gree, and  from  no  lack  of  that  courage  which  you  have 
heretofore  displayed,  I  would  I  could  say  in  a  good  cause. 
Wherefore  I  am  purposed  to  give  you,  by  my  friend  Sir 
Jasper  Cranbourne,  a  meeting,  for  the  sake  of  doing  that 
which  doubtless  you  entirely  long  for.  Sir  Jasper  will  de- 
liver you  the  length  of  my  weapon,  and  appoint  circum- 
stances and  an  hour  for  our  meeting  ;  which,  whether  early 
or  late,  on  foot  or  horseback,  with  rapier  or  backsword,  I 
refer  to  yourself,  with  all  the  other  privileges  of  a  chal- 
lenged person  ;  only  desiring  that,  if  you  decline  to  match 
my  weapon,  you  will  send  me  forthwith  the   length  and 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  97 

breadth  of  your  own.     And  nothing  doubting  that  the  issue 
of  this  meeting  must  needs  be  to  end,  in  one  way  c-r  other, 
all  unkindness  betwixt  two  near  neighbors, 
'^I  remain, 
"Your  humble  servant  to  command, 

''  Geoffrey  Peveril  of  the  Peak. 

**  Given  from  my  poor  house  of  Martindale 

Castle,  this  same  of sixteen 

hundred  and  sixty." 

"Bear  back  my  respects  to  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,'*  said 
Major  Bridgenorth.  "  According  to  his  light,  his  meaning 
may  be  fair  towards  me  ;  but  tell  him  that  our  quarrel  had 
its  rise  in  his  own  wilful  aggression  towards  me  ;  and  that, 
though  I  wish  to  be  in  charity  with  all  mankind,  I  am  not 
so  wedded  to  his  friendship  as  to  break  the  laws  of  God,  and 
run  the  risk  of  suffering  or  committing  murder,  in  order  to 
regain  it.  And  for  you,  sir,  methinks  your  advanced  years 
and  past  misfortunes  might  teach  you  the  folly  of  coming  on 
Buch  idle  errands. '^ 

"  I  shall  do  your  message.  Master  Ealph  Bridgenorth," 
said  Sir  Jasper ;  "  and  shall  then  endeavor  to  forget  your 
name,  as  a  sound  unfit  to  be  pronounced,  or  even  remem- 
bered, by  a  man  of  honor.  In  the  meanwhile,  in  return  for 
your  uncivil  advice,  be  pleased  to  accept  of  mine — namely, 
that  as  your  religion  prevents  your  giving  a  gentleman  satis- 
faction, it  ought  to  make  you  very  cautious  of  offering  him 
provocation." 

So  saying,  and  with  a  look  of  haughty  scorn,  first  at  the 
major  and  then  at  the  divine,  the  envoy  of  Sir  Geoffrey  put 
his  hat  on  liis  head,  replaced  his  rapier  in  its  belt,  and  left 
the  apartment.  In  a  few  minutes  afterwards  the  tread  of 
his  horse  died  away  at  a  considerable  distance. 

Bridgenorth  had  held  his  hand  upon  his  brow  ever  since 
his  departure,  and  a  tear  of  anger  and  shame  was  on  his  face 
as  he  raised  it  when  the  sound  was  heard  no  mope.  "He 
carries  this  answer  to  Martindale  Castle,"  he  said.  "Men 
will  hereafter  think  of  me  as  a  whipped,  beaten,  dishonor- 
able fellow,  whom  every  one  may  baffle  and  insult  at  their 
pleasure.  It  is  well  I  am  leaving  the  house  of  my 
father." 

Master  Solsgrace  approached  his  friend  with  much  sym- 
pathy, and  grasped  him  by  the  hand.  "  Noble  brother,"  he 
said,  with  unwonted  kindness  of  manner,  "  though  a  man  of 
peace,  I  can  judge  what  this  sacrifice  hath  cost  to  thy  manly 


98  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Bpirit.  But  God  will  not  have  from  us  an  imperfect  obedi- 
ence. We  must  not,  like  Ananias  and  Sapphira,  reserve  be- 
hind some  darling  lust,  some  favorite  sin,  while  we  pretend 
to  make  sacrifice  of  our  worldly  affections.  What  avails  it 
to  say  that  we  have  but  secreted  a  little  matter,  if  the 
slightest  remnant  of  the  accursed  thing  remain  hidden  w 
our  tent  ?  Would  it  be  a  defense  in  thy  prayers  to  say,  ^  J 
have  not  murdered  this  man  for  the  lucre  of  gain,  like  a 
robber  ;  nor  for  the  acquisition  of  power,  like  a  tyrant ;  nor 
for  the  gratification  of  revenge,  like  a  darkened  savage  ;  but 
because  the  imperious  voice  of  worldly  honor  said,  '  Go  forth 
—kill  or  be  killed — is  it  not  I  that  have  sent  thee  ? ' "  Be- 
think thee,  my  worthy  friend,  how  thou  couldst  frame  such 
a  vindication  in  thy  prayers ;  and  if  thou  art  forced  to 
tremble  at  the  blasphemy  of  such  an  excuse,  remember  in 
thy  prayers  the  thanks  due  to  Heaven,  which  enabled  thee 
to  resist  the  strong  temptation/' 

^^Eeverend  and  dear  friend,*'  answered  Bridgenorth,  "  1 
feel  that  you  speak  the  truth.  Bitterer  indeed,  and  harder, 
to  the  old  Adam  is  the  text  which  ordains  him  to  suffer 
shame  than  that  which  bids  him  to  do  valiantly  for  the 
truth.  But  happy  am  I  that  my  path  through  the  wilder- 
ness of  this  world  will,  for  some  space  at  least,  be  along  with 
one  whose  zeal  and  friendship  are  so  active  to  support  me 
when  I  am  fainting  in  the  way." 

While  the  inhabitants  of  Moultrassie  Hall  thus  communi- 
cated together  upon  the  purport  of  Sir  Jasper  Cranbourne's 
visit,  that  worthy  knight  greatly  excited  the  surprise  of  Sir 
Geoffrey  Peveril  by  reporting  the  manner  in  which  his  em- 
bassy had  been  received. 

"  I  took  him  for  a  man  of  other  metal,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey  ; 
*'  nay,  I  would  have  sworn  it,  had  any  one  asked  my  testi- 
mony. But  there  is  no  making  a  silken  purse  out  of  a  sow's 
ear.  I  have  done  a  folly  for  him  that  I  would  never  do  for 
another ;  and  that  is,  to  think  a  Presbyterian  would  fight 
without  his  preacher's  permission.  Give  them  a  two  hours* 
sermon,  and  let  them  howl  a  psalm  to  a  tune  that  is  worse 
than  the  cries  of  a  flogged  hound,  and  the  villains  will  lay  on 
like  threshers  ;  but  for  a  calm,  cool,  gentlemanlike  turn  upon 
the  sod,  hand  to  hand,  in  a  neighborly  way,  they  have  not 
honor  enough  to  undertake  it.  But  enough  of  our  crop-eared 
cur  of  a  neighbor.  Sir  Jasper,  you  will  tarry  with  us  to  dine, 
and  see  how  Dame  Margaret's  kicthen  smokes;  and  after  dinner 
I  will  show  you  a  long-winged  falcon  fly.  She  is  not  mine, 
but  the  countess's,  who  brought  her  from  London  on  her  fist 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  99 

almost  the  whole  way,  for  all  the  haste  she  was  in,  and  left 
her  with  me  to  keep  the  perch  for  a  season. 

This  match  was  soon  arranged,  and  Dame  Margaret  over- 
heard the  good  knight's  resentment  mutter  itself  oif, with  those 
feelings  with  which  we  listen  to  the  last  growlings  of  the 
thunder  storm,  which  as  the  black  cloud  sinks  behind  the 
hill,  at  once  assures  us  that  there  has  been  danger,  and  that 
the  peril  is  over.  She  could  not,  indeed,  but  marvel  in  her 
own  mind  at  the  singular  path  of  reconciliation  with  his 
neighbor  which  her  husband  had,  with  so  much  confidence 
and  in  the  actual  sincerity  of  his  good-will  to  Bridgenorth, 
attempted  to  open  ;  and  she  blessed  God  internally  that  it 
had  not  terminated  in  bloodshed.  But  these  reflections  she 
locked  carefully  within  her  own  bosom,  well  knowing  that 
they  referred  to  subjects  in  which  the  knight  of  the  Peak 
would  neither  permit  his  sagacity  to  be  called  in  question  nor 
his  will  to  be  controlled. 

The  progress  of  the  history  hath  hitherto  been  slow  ;  but 
after  this  period  so  little  matter  worthy  of  mark  occurred  at 
Martindale  that  we  must  hurry  over  hastily  the  transactions 
of  sev<4ral  jears. 


CHAPTEE  X 

Clecmatra.    Give  me  to  drink  mandragora. 
That  I  may  sleep  away  this  gap  of  time. 

Antony  and  Cleopatra, 

There  passed,  as  we  hinted  at  the  conclusion  of  the  last 
chapter,  four  or  five  years  after  the  period  we  have  dilated 
upon,  the  events  of  which  scarcely  require  to  be  discussed, 
so  far  as  our  present  purpose  is  concerned,  in  as  many  lines. 
The  knight  and  his  lady  continued  to  reside  at  their  castle 
— she,  with  prudence  and  with  patience,  endeavoring  to  re- 
pair the  damages  which  the  Civil  Wars  had  inflicted  upon 
their  fortune  ;  and  murmuring  a  little  when  her  plans  of 
economy  were  interrupted  by  the  liberal  hospitality  which  was 
her  husband's  principal  expense,  and  to  which  he  was  at- 
tached, not  only  from  his  own  English  heartiness  of  disposi- 
tion, but  from  ideas  of  maintaining  the  dignity  of  his  an- 
cestry— no  less  remarkable,  according  to  the  tradition  of 
tkeir  buttery,  kitchen,  and  cellar,  for  the  fat  beeves  which 
they  roasted,  and  the  mighty  ale  which  they  brewed,  than 
for  their  extensive  estates  and  the  number  of  their  retainers. 

The  world,  however,  upon  the  whole,  went  happily  and 
easily  with  the  worthy  couple.  Sir  Geoffrey's  debt  to  his 
neighbor  Bridgenorth  continued,  it  is  true,  unabated ;  but 
he  was  the  only  creditor  upon  the  Martindale  estate,  all 
others  being  paid  off.  It  would  have  been  most  desirable 
that  this  encumbrance  also  should  be  cleared,  and  it  was 
the  great  object  of  Dame  Margaret's  economy  to  effect  the 
discharge  ;  for  although  interest  was  regularly  settled  with 
Master  Win-the-Fight,  the  Chesterfield  attorney,  yet  the 
principal  sum,  which  was  a  large  one,  might  be  called  for  at 
an  inconvenient  time.  The  man,  too,  was  gloomy,  im- 
portant, and  mysterious,  and  always  seemed  as  if  he  waa 
thinking  upon  his  broken  head  in  the  churchyard  of  Mar- 
tindale cicm  Moultrassie. 

Dame  Margaret  sometimes  transacted  the  necessary  busi- 
ness with  him  in  person  ;  and  when  he  came  to  the  castle 
on  these  occasions,  she  thought  she  saw  a  malicious  and  dis- 
obliging expression  in  his  manner  a,nd  countenance.  Yet 
his  actual  conduct  was  not  only  fair  but  liberal ;  for  indul- 

100 


PBVETtIL  OF  THE  PEAK  IfiJ 

gence  was  given,  in  the  way  of  delay  of  payment,  wheneyer 
circumstances  rendered  it  necessary  to  the  debtor  to  require 
it.  It  seemed  to  Lady  Peveril  that  the  agent,  in  such  cases, 
was  acting  under  the  strict  orders  of  his  absent  employer, 
concerning  whose  welfare  she  could  not  help  feeling  a  cer- 
tain anxiety. 

Shortly  after  the  failure  of  the  singular  negotiation  for 
attaining  peace  by  combat  which  Peveril  had  attempted  to 
open  with  Major  Bridgenorth,  that  gentleman  left  his  seat 
of  Moultrassie  Hall  in  the  care  of  his  old  housekeeper,  and 
departed,  no  one  knew  whither,  having  in  company  with 
him  his  daughter  Alice  and  Mrs.  Deborah  Debbitch,  now 
formally  installed  in  all  the  duties  of  a  governante  ;  to  these 
was  added  the  Reverend  Master  Solsgrace.  For  some  time 
public  rumor  persisted  in  asserting  that  Major  Bridgenorth 
had  only  retreated  to  a  distant  part  of  the  country  for  a 
season,  to  achieve  his  supposed  purpose  of  marrying  Mrs. 
Deborah,  and  of  letting  the  news  be  cold,  and  the  laugh  of 
the  neighborhood  be  ended,  ere  he  brought  her  down  as 
mistress  of  Moultrassie  Hall.  This  rumor  died  away ;  and 
it  was  then  affirmed  that  he  had  removed  to  foreign  parts, 
to  ensure  the  continuance  of  health  in  so  delicate  a  constitu- 
tion as  that  of  little  Alice.  But  when  the  major's  dread  of 
Popery  was  remembered,  together  with  the  still  deeper  an- 
tipathies of  worthy  Master  Nehemiah  Solsgrace,  it  was  re- 
solved unanimously  that  nothing  less  than  what  they  might 
deem  a  fair  chance  of  converting  the  Pope  would  have  in- 
duced the  parties  to  trust  themselves  within  Catholic  do- 
minions. The  most  prevailing  opinion  was,  that  they  had 
gone  to  New  England,  the  refuge  then  of  many  whom  too 
intimate  concern  with  the  affairs  of  the  late  times,  or  the 
desires  of  enjoying  uncontrolled  freedom  of  conscience,  had 
induced  to  emigrate  from  Britain. 

Lady  Peveril  could  not  help  entertaining  a  vague  idea  that 
Bridgenorth  was  not  so  distant.  The  extreme  order  in  which 
everything  was  maintained  at  Moultrassie  Hall  seemed — no 
disparagement  to  the  care  of  Dame  Dickens,  the  house- 
keeper, and  the  other  persons  engaged — to  argue  that  the 
master^s  eye  was  not  so  very  far  off  but  that  its  occasional 
inspection  might  be  apprehended.  It  is  true,  that  neither 
the  domestics  nor  the  attorney  answered  any  questions  re- 
specting the  residence  of  Master  Bridgenorth  ;  but  there  was 
an  air  of  mystery  about  them  when  interrogated  that  seemed 
to  argue  more  than  met  tne  ear. 

About  five  years  after  Master  Bridgenorth  had  left  the 


iOC  WA  VEELEY  NO  VEL8 

country,  a  singular  incident  took  place.  Sir  Geoffrey  was 
absent  at  the  Chesterfield  races,  and  Lady  Peveril,  who  was 
in  the  habit  of  walking  around  every  part  of  the  neighbor- 
hood unattended,  or  only  accompanied  by  Ellesmere  or  her 
little  boy,  had  gone  down  one  evening  upon  a  charitable 
errand  to  a  solitary  hut,  whose  inhabitant  lay  sick  of  a  fever, 
which  was  supposed  to  be  infectious.  Lady  Peveril  never 
allowed  apprehensions  of  this  kind  to  stop  "  devoted  charit- 
able deeds"  ;  but  she  did  not  choose  to  expose  either  her  son 
or  her  attendant  to  the  risk  which  she  herself,  in  some  con- 
fidence that  she  knew  precautions  for  escaping  the  danger, 
did  not  hesitate  to  incur. 

Lady  Peveril  had  set  out  at  a  late  hour  in  the  evening, 
and  the  way  proved  longer  than  she  expected  ;  several  cir- 
cumstances also  occurred  to  detain  her  at  the  hut  of  her 
patient.  It  was  a  broad  autumn  moonlight  when  she  pre- 
pared to  return  homeward  through  the  broken  glades  and 
upland  which  divided  her  from  the  castle.  This  she  con- 
sidered as  a  matter  of  very  little  importance  in  so  quiet  and 
sequestered  a  country,  where  the  road  lay  chiefly  through  her 
own  domains,  especially  as  she  had  a  lad  about  fifteen  years 
old,  the  son  of  her  patient,  to  escort  her  on  the  way.  The 
distance  was  better  than  two  miles,  but  might  be  consider- 
ably abridged  by  passing  through  an  avenue  belonging  to 
the  estate  of  Moultrassie  Hall,  which  she  had  avoided  as  she 
came,  not  from  the  ridiculous  rumors  which  pronounced  it 
to  be  haunted,  but  because  her  husband  was  much  displeased 
when  any  attempt  was  made  to  render  the  walks  of  the  castle 
and  hall  common  to  the  inhabitants  of  both.  The  good 
lady,  in  consideration,  perhaps,  of  extensive  latitude  allowed 
to  her  in  the  more  important  concerns  of  the  family,  made 
a  point  of  never  interfering  with  her  husband's  whims  or 
prejudices  ;  and  it  is  a  compromise  which  we  would  heartily 
recommend  to  all  managing  matrons  of  our  acquaintance  ; 
for  it  is  surprising  how  much  real  power  will  be  cheerfully 
resigned  to  the  fair  sex  for  the  pleasure  of  being  allowed  to 
ride  one's  hobby  in  peace  and  quiet. 

Upon  this  present  occasion,  however,  although  the  Bobby's 
Walk  was  within  the  inhabited  domains  of  the  hall,  the  Lady 
Peveril  determined  to  avail  herself  of  it,  for  the  purpose  of 
shortening  her  road  home,  and  she  directed  her  steps  accord- 
ingly. But  when  the  peasant-boy,  her  companion,  who  had 
hitherto  followed  her,  whistling  cheerily,  with  a  hedge-bill 
in  his  hand,  and  his  hat  on  one  side,  perceived  that  she 
turned  to  the  stile  which  entered  to  the  Dobby's  Walk,  he 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  108 

Bhowed  symptoms  of  great  fear,  and  at  length,  coming  k) 
the  lady's  side,  petitioned  her,  in  a  whimpering  tone, 
''Don't  ye  now — don't  ye  now,  my  lady — don't  ye  go 
yonder." 

Lady  Peveril,  observing  that  his  teeth  chattered  in  his 
head,  and  that  his  whole  person  exhibited  great  signs  of 
terror,  began  to  recollect  the  report  that  the  first  squire  of 
Moultrassie,  the  brewer  of  Chesterfield,  who  had  bought  the 
estate,  and  then  died  of  melancholy  for  lack  of  something  to 
do,  and,  as  was  said,  not  without  suspicions  of  suicide,  was 
supposed  to  walk  in  this  sequestered  avenue,  accompanied 
by  a  large  headless  mastiff,  which,  when  he  was  alive,  was  a 
particular  favorite  of  the  ex-brewer.  To  have  expected  any 
protection  from  her  escort,  in  the  condition  to  which  super- 
stitious fear  had  reduced  him,  would  have  been  truly  a 
hopeless  trust ;  and  Lady  Peveril,  who  was  nofc  apprehensive 
of  any  danger,  thought  there  would  be  great  cruelty  in  drag- 
ging the  cowardly  boy  into  a  scene  which  he  regarded  with 
so  much  apprehension.  She  gave  him,  therefore,  a  silver 
piece,  and  permitted  him  to  return.  The  latter  boon  seemed 
even  more  acceptable  than  the  first  ;  for,  ere  she  could  re- 
turn the  purse  into  her  pocket,  she  heard  the  wooden  clogs 
of  her  bold  convoy  in  full  retreat,  by  the  way  from  whence 
they  came. 

Smiling  within  herself  at  the  fear  she  esteemed  so  ludi- 
crous. Lady  Peveril  ascended  the  stile,  and  was  soon  hidden 
from  the  broad  light  of  the  moonbeams  by  the  numerous 
and  entangled  boughs  of  the  huge  elms,  which,  meeting 
from  either  side,  totally  overarched  the  old  avenue.  The 
scene  was  calculated  to  excite  solemn  thoughts  ;  and  the 
distant  glimmer  of  a  light  from  one  of  the  numerous  case- 
ments in  the  front  of  Moultrassie  Hall,  which  lay  at  some 
distance,  was  calculated  to  make  them  even  melancholy. 
She  thought  of  the  fate  of  that  family — of  the  deceased 
Mrs.  Bridgenorth,  with  whom  she  had  often  walked  in  this 
very  avenue,  and  who,  though  a  woman  of  no  high  parts  or 
accomplishments,  had  always  testified  the  deepest  respect 
and  the  most  earnest  gratitude  for  such  notice  as  she  had 
shown  to  her.  She  thought  of  her  blighted  hopes — her  pre- 
mature death — the  despair  of  her  self-banished  husband — 
the  uncertain  fate  of  their  orphan  child,  for  whom  she  felt, 
even  at  this  distance  of  time,  some  touch  of  a  mother's 
affection. 

Upon  such  sad  subjects  her  thoughts  were  turned,  when, 
just  as  she  attained  the  middle  of  the  avenue,  the  imperfect 


104  WA  VERLET  NO  VEL8 

and  checkered  light  which  found  its  way  through  the  silvan 
archway  showed  her  something  which  resembled  the  figure 
of  a  man.  Lady  Peveril  paused  a  moment,  but  instantly  ad- 
vanced ;  her  bosom,  perhaps,  gave  one  startled  throb,  as  a 
debt  to  the  superstitious  belief  of  the  times,  but  she  in- 
stantly repelled  the  thought  of  supernatural  appearances. 
From  those  that  were  merely  mortal  she  had  nothing  to  fear. 
A  marauder  on  the  game  was  the  worst  character  whom  she 
was  likely  to  encounter  ;  and  he  would  be  sure  to  hide 
himself  from  her  observation.  She  advanced,  accordingly, 
steadily  ;  and,  as  she  did  so,  had  the  satisfaction  to  observe 
that  the  figure,  as  she  expected,  gave  place  to  her,  and 
glided  away  amongst  the  trees  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the 
avenue.  As  she  passed  the  spot  on  which  the  form  had  been 
so  lately  visible,  and  bethought  herself  that  this  wanderer  of 
the  night  might,  nay  must,  be  in  her  vicinity,  her  resolution 
could  not  prevent  her  mending  her  pace,  and  that  with  so 
little  precaution,  that,  stumbling  over  the  limb  of  a  tree, 
which,  twisted  off  by  a  late  tempest,  still  lay  in  the  avenue, 
she  fell,  and  as  she  fell  screamed  aloud.  A  strong  hand  in 
a  moment  afterwards  added  to  her  fear  by  assisting  her  to 
rise  ;  *and  a  voice,  to  whose  accents  she  was  not  a  stranger, 
though  they  had  been  long  unheard,  said,  '^Is  it  not  you. 
Lady  Peveril  ? '' 

"  It  is  ly"  said  she,  commanding  her  astonishment  and  fear  ; 
*'  and,  if  my  ear  deceive  me  not,  I  speak  to  Master  Bridge- 
north.'' 

**  I  was  that  man,''  he  replied,  "  while  oppression  left  me  a 
name." 

He  spoke  nothing  more,  but  continued  to  walk  beside  her 
for  a  minute  or  two  in  silence.  She  felt  her  situation  em- 
barrassing ;  and,  to  divest  it  of  that  feeling,  as  well  as  out 
of  real  interest  in  the  question,  she  asked  him,  "  How  her 
god-daughter  Alice  was  now  ?  " 

"  Of  god-daughter,  madam,"  answered  Major  Bridgenorth, 
''  I  know  nothing  ;  that  being  one  of  the  names  which  have 
been  introduced  to  the  corruption  and  pollution  of  God's 
ordinances.  The  infant  who  owed  to  your  ladyship,  so 
called,  her  escape  from  disease  and  death,  is  a  healthy  and 
thriving  girl,  as  I  am  given  to  understand  by  those  in  whose 
charge  she  is  lodged,  for  I  have  not  lately  seen  her.  And  it 
is  even  the  recollection  of  these  passages  which  in  a  manner 
impelled  me,  alarmed  also  by  your  fall,  to  offer  myself  to  you 
in  this  time  and  mode,  which  in  other  respects  .j[s  ii^^  -flraj 
consistent  with  my  present  safety."  ^,  ;.    *   . 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  105 

^^  With  yonr  safety.  Master  Bridgenorth  !  "  said  the  Lady 
Peveril ;  ^^  surely,  I  could  never  have  thought  that  it  was  in 
danger !  '* 

' '  You  have  some  news,  then,  yet  to  learn,  madam/'  said 
Major  Bridgenorth  ;  *^but  you  will  hear,  in  the  course  of  to- 
morrow, reasons  why  I  dare  not  appear  openly  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  my  own  property,  and  wherefore  there  is  small 
judgment  in  committing  the  knowledge  of  my  present  resi- 
dence to  any  one  connected  with  Martindale  Castle/' 

"  Master  Bridgenorth,-"  said  the  lady,  ''  you  were  in  former 
times  prudent  and  cautious  :  I  hope  you  have  been  misled 
by  no  hasty  impression — by  no  rash  scheme  ;  I  hope " 

*'  Pardon  my  interrupting  you,  madam,"  said  Bridgenorth. 
"  I  have  indeed  been  changed — ay,  my  very  heart  within  me 
has  been  changed.  In  the  times  to  which  your  ladyship,  so 
called,  thinks  proper  to  refer,  I  was  a  man  of  this  world, 
bestowing  on  it  all  my  thoughts,  all  my  actions,  save  formal 
observances,  little  deeming  what  was  the  duty  of  a  Christian 
man,  and  how  far  his  self-denial  ought  to  extend,  even  unto 
giving  all  as  if  he  gave  nothing.  Hence  I  thought  chiefly 
on  carnal  things — on  the  adding  of  field  to  field,  and  wealth 
to  wealth,  of  the  balancing  between  party  and  party,  secur- 
ing a  friend  here  without  losing  a  friend  there.  But 
Heaven  smote  me  for  my  apostasy,  the  rather  that  I  abused 
the  name  of  religion,  as  a  self-seeker,  and  a  most  blinded 
and  carnal  will-worshiper.  But  I  thank  Him  who  hath  at 
length  brought  me  out  of  Egypt." 

In  our  day,  although  we  have  many  instances  of  enthu- 
siasm among  us,  we  might  still  suspect  one  who  avowed  it 
thus  suddenly  and  broadly  of  hypocrisy  or  of  insanity  ;  but, 
according  to  the  fashion  of  the  times,  such  opinions  as 
those  which  Bridgenorth  expressed  were  openly  pleaded  as 
the  ruling  motives  of  men's  actions.  The  sagacious  Vane, 
the  brave  and  skilful  Harrison,  were  men  who  acted  avow- 
edly under  the  influence  of  such.  Lady  Peveril,  therefore, 
was  more  grieved  than  surprised  at  the  language  she  heard 
Major  Bridgenorth  use,  and  reasonably  concluded  that  the 
society  and  circumstances  in  which  he  might  lately  have 
been  engaged  had  blown  into  a  flame  the  spark  of  eccentric- 
ity which  always  smoldered  in  his  bosom.  This  was  the 
more  probable,  considering  that  he  was  melancholy  by  con- 
stitution and  descent,  that  he  had  been  unfortunate  in 
several  particulars,  and  that  no  passion  is  more  easily  nursed 
by  indulgence  than  the  species  of  enthusiasm  of  which  he 
now  showed  tokens.     She  therefore  answered  him  by  calmly 


106  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

hoping,   '*  That  the  expression  of  his  sentiments  had  not  in- 
volved him  in  suspicion  or  in  danger/' 

"  In  suspicion,  madam  !  '*  answered  the  major ;  ''  for  I 
cannot  forbear  giving  to  you,  such  is  the  strength  of  habit, 
one  of  those  idle  titles  by  which  we  poor  potsherds  are  wont, 
in  our  pride,  to  denominate  each  other.  I  walk  not  only  in 
suspicion,  but  in  that  degree  of  dangei  that,  were  your  hus- 
band to  meet  me  at  this  instant — me,  a  native  Englishman, 
treading  on  my  own  lands — I  have  no  doubt  he  would  do  his 
best  to  offer  me  to  the  Moloch  of  Romish  superstition  who 
now  rages  abroad  for  victims  among  God's  people/' 

'*  You  surprise  me  by  your  language,  Major  Bridgenorth,'* 
said  the  lady,  who  now  felt  rather  anxious  to  be  relieved 
from  his  company,  and  with  that  purpose  walked  on  some- 
what hastily.  He  mended  his  pace,  however,  avA  kept  close 
by  her  side. 

^'Know  you  not,"  said  he,  "that  Satan  hath  come  down 
upon  earth  with  great  wrath,  because  his  time  ib  short  ?  The 
next  heir  to  the  crown  is  an  avowed  Papist  ;  and  who  dare 
assert,  save  sycophants  and  time-servers,  that  he  who  wears 
it  is  not  equally  ready  to  stoop  to  Rome,  were  he  not  kept 
in  awe  by  a  few  noble  spirits  in  the  Commons'  House  ?  You 
believe  not  this  ;  yet  in  my  solitary  and  midnight  walks, 
when  I  thought  on  your  kindness  to  the  dead  and  to  the 
living,  it  was  my  prayer  that  I  might  have  the  means 
granted  to  warn  you,  and  lo  !  Heaven  hath  heard  me." 

"  Major  Bridgenorth,"  said  Lady  Peveril,  "  you  were 
wont  to  be  moderate  in  these  sentiments — comparatively 
moderate,  at  least — and  to  love  your  own  religion,  without 
hating  that  of  others." 

''  What  I  was  while  in  the  gall  of  bitterness  and  in  the 
bond  of  iniquity,  it  signifies  not  to  recall,"  answered  he. 
"  I  was  then  like  to  Gallio,  who  cared  for  none  of  these 
things.  I  doted  on  creature-comforts — I  clung  to  worldly 
honor  and  repute — my  thoughts  were  earthward,  or  those  I 
turned  to  Heaven  were  cold,  formal,  pharisaical  medita- 
tions. I  brought  nothing  to  the  altar  save  straw  and  stub- 
ble. Heaven  saw  need  to  chastise  me  in  love.  I  was 
stripped  of  all  that  I  clung  to  on  earth  ;  my  worldly  honor  was 
torn  from  me  ;  I  went  forth  an  exile  from  the  home  of  my 
fathers — a  deprived  and  desolate  man — a  baffled,  and  beaten, 
and  dishonored  man.  But  who  shall  find  out  the  ways  of 
Providence  ?  Such  were  the  means  by  which  I  was  chosen 
forth  as  a  champion  for  the  truth,  holding  my  life  as  noth- 
ing, if  thereby  that  may  be  advanced.     But  this  was  not 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  107 

what  I  wished  to  speak  of.  Thou  hast  saved  the  earthly 
life  of  my  child,  let  me  save  the  eternal  welfare  of  yours/' 

Lady  Peveril  was  silent.  They  were  now  approaching  the 
point  where  the  avenue  terminated  in  a  communication  with 
a  public  road,  or  rather  pathway,  running  through  an  un- 
inclosed  common  field  ;  this  the  lady  had  to  prosecute  for  a 
little  way,  until  a  turn  of  the  path  gave  her  admittance  into 
the  park  of  Martindale.  She  now  felt  sincerely  anxious  to 
be  in  the  open  moonshine,  and  avoided  reply  to  Bridgenorth 
that  she  might  make  the  more  haste.  But  as  they  reached 
the  junction  of  the  avenue  and  the  public  road,  he  laid  his 
hand  on  her  arm,  and  commanded,  rather  than  requested, 
her  to  stop.  She  obeyed.  He  pointed  to  a  huge  oak,  of 
the  largest  size,  which  grew  on  the  summit  of  a  knoll  in  the 
open  ground  which  terminated  the  avenue,  and  was  exactly 
80  placed  as  to  serve  for  a  termination  to  the  vista.  The 
moonshine  without  the  avenue  was  so  strong  that,  amidst 
the  flood  of  light  which  it  poured  on  the  venerable  tree, 
they  could  easily  discover,  from  the  shattered  state  of  the 
boughs  on  one  side,  that  it  had  suffered  damage  from  light- 
ning. ^^Eemember  you,''  he  said,  ^'^when  we  last  looked 
together  on  that  tree  ?  I  had  ridden  from  London,  and 
brought  with  me  a  protection  from  the  committee  for  your 
husband  ;  and  as  I  passed  the  spot — here  on  this  spot  where 
we  now  stand,  you  stood  with  my  lost  Alice — two — the  last 
two  of  my  beloved  infants  gamboled  before  you.  I  leaped 
from  my  horse  ;  to  her  I  was  a  husband — to  those  a  father — 
to  you  a  welcome  and  revered  protector.  What  am  I  now 
to  any  one  ?"  He  pressed  his  hand  on  his  brow^  and 
groaned  in  agony  of  spirit. 

It  was  not  in  the  Lady  Peveril's  nature  to  hear  sorrow 
without  an  attempt  at  consolation.  '^  Master  Bridgenorth," 
she  said,  ^'  I  blame  no  man's  creeds  while  I  believe  and  fol- 
low my  own ;  and  I  rejoice  that  in  yours  you  have  sought 
consolation  for  temporal  afflictions.  But  does  not  every 
Christian  creed  teach  us  alike  that  affliction  should  soften 
our  heart  ?  '* 

**^  Ay,  woman,"  said  Bridgenorth,  sternly,  ''  as  the  light- 
ning which  shattered  yonder  oak  hath  softened  its  trunk. 
No  ;  the  seared  wood  is  the  fitter  for  the  use  of  the  work- 
men ;  the  hardened  and  the  dried-up  heart  is  that  which 
can  best  bear  the  task  imposed  by  these  dismal  times.  God 
and  man  will  no  longer  endure  the  unbridled  profligacy  of 
the  dissolute — the  scoffing  of  the  profane — the  contempt  of 
the  Divine  laws — the  infraction   of   human   rights.     The 


108  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

times  demand  righters  and  avengers,  and  there  will  be  no 
want  of  them/' 

''I  deny  not  the  existence  of  much  evil/'  said  Lady 
Peveril,  compelling  herself  to  answer,  and  beginning  at  the 
same  time  to  walk  forward  ;  '^  and  from  hearsay,  though  not, 
I  thank  Heaven,  from  observation,  I  am  convinced  of  the 
wild  debauchery  of  the  times.  But  let  us  trust  it  may  be 
corrected  without  such  violent  remedies  as  you  hint  ate 
Surely  the  ruin  of  a  second  civil  war,  though  I  trust  your 
thoughts  go  not  that  dreadful  length,  were  at  best  a  des- 
perate alternative/' 

"  Sharp,  but  sure,"  replied  Bridgenorth.  "  The  blood  of 
the  Paschal  lamb  chased  away  the  destroying  angel ;  the 
sacrifices  offered  on  the  threshing-floor  of  Araunah  stayed 
the  pestilence.  Fire  and  sword  are  severe  remedies,  but 
they  purge  and  purify." 

''Alas!  Major  Bridgenorth,"  said  the  lady,  "wise  and 
moderate  in  your  youth,  can  you  have  adopted  in  your  ad- 
vanced life  the  thoughts  and  language  of  those  whom  you 
yourself  beheld  drive  themselves  and  the  nation  to  the  brink 
of  ruin  ?  " 

"  I  know  not  what  I  then  was  ;  you  know  not  what  I  now 
am,"  he  replied,  and  suddenly  broke  off  ;  for  they  even  then 
came  forth  into  the  open  light,  and  it  seemed  as  if,  feeling 
himself  under  the  lady's  eye,  he  was  disposed  to  soften  his 
tone  and  his  language. 

At  the  first  distinct  view  which  she  had  of  his  person,  she 
was  aware  that  he  was  armed  with  a  short  sword,  a  poniard, 
and  pistols  at  his  belt — precautions  very  unusual  for  a  man 
who  formerly  had  seldom,  and  only  on  days  of  ceremony, 
carried  a  walking  rapier,  though  such  was  the  habitual  and 
constant  practise  of  gentlemen  of  his  station  in  life.  There 
seemed  also  something  of  more  stern  determination  than 
usual  in  his  air,  which  indeed  had  always  been  rather  sullen 
than  affable  ;  and  ere  she  could  repress  the  sentiment,  she 
could  not  help  saying,  "  Master  Bridgenorth,  you  are  indeed 
changed/' 

"You  see  but  the  outward  man,"  he  replied;  ''the 
change  within  is  yet  deeper.  But  it  was  not  of  myself  that 
I  desired  to  talk :  I  have  already  said  that,  as  you  have 
preserved  my  child  from  the  darkness  of  the  grave,  I  would 
willingly  preserve  yours  from  that  more  utter  darkness 
which,  I  fear,  hath  involved  the  path  and  walks  of  his 
father.*' 

"  I  must  not  hear  this  of  Sir  Geoffrey,"  said  the  Lad}' 


FEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  109 

Peveril ;  "  I  must  bid  you  farewell  for  the  present ;  and 
when  we  again  meet  at  a  more  suitable  time,  I  will  at  least 
listen  to  your  advice  concerning  Julian,  although  I  should 
not  perhaps  incline  to  it/' 

'^  That  more  suitable  time  may  never  come,"  replied 
Bridgenorth.  "  Time  wanes,  eternity  draws  nigh.  Heark- 
en !  It  is  said  to  be  your  purpose  to  send  the  young  Julian 
to  be  bred  up  in  yonder  bloody  island,  under  the  hand  of 
your  kinswoman,  that  cruel  murderess,  by  whom  was  done 
to  death  a  man  more  worthy  of  vital  existence  than  any  that 
she  can  boast  among  her  vaunted  ancestry.  These  are  cur- 
rent tidings.     Are  they  true  ?  " 

^'I  do  not  blame  you,  Master  Bridgenorth,  for  thinking 
harshly  of  my  cousin  of  Derby,"  said  Lady  Peveril ;  '^  nor 
do  I  al"together  vindicate  the  rash  action  of  which  she  hath 
been  guilty.  Nevertheless,  in  her  habitation,  it  is  my  hus- 
band's opinion  and  my  own  that  Julian  may  be  trained  in 
the  studies  and  accomplishments  becoming  his  rank,  along 
with  the  young  Earl  of  Derby." 

"  Under  the  curse  of  God  and  the  blessing  of  the  Pope  of 
Rome,"  said  Bridgenorth.  ^"^  You,  lady,  so  quick-sighted  in 
matters  of  earthly  prudence,  are  you  blind  to  the  gigantic 
pace  at  which  Eome  is  moving  to  regain  this  country,  once 
the  richest  gem  in  her  usurped  tiara  ?  The  old  are  seduced 
by  gold,  the  youth  by  pleasure,  the  weak  by  flattery,  cow- 
ards by  fear,  and  the  courageous  by  ambition.  A  thousand 
baits  for  each  taste,  and  each  bait  concealing  the  same 
deadly  hook." 

^^  I  am  well  aware,  Master  Bridgenorth,"  said  Lady  Peveril, 
*'  that  my  kinswoman  is  a  Catholic  ;  *  but  her  son  is  educated 
b  the  Church  of  England^'s  principles,  agreeably  to  the  com- 
mand of  her  deceased  husband." 

"Is  it  likely,"  answered  Bridgenorth,  ^'that  she,  who 
fears  not  shedding  the  blood  of  the  righteous,  whether  on 
the  field  or  scaffold,  will  regard  the  sanction  of  her  promise 
when  her  religion  bids  her  break  it  ?  Or,  if  she  does,  what 
shall  your  son  be  the  better,  if  he  remain  in  the  mire  of  his 
father  ?  What  are  your  Episcopal  tenets  but  mere  Popery, 
save  that  ye  have  chosen  a  temporal  tyrant  for  your  pope, 
and  substitute  a  mangled  mass  in  English  for  that  which 
your  predecessors  pronounced  in  Latin.  But  why  speak  I  of 
these  things  to  one  who  hath  ears  indeed,  and  eyes,  yet  can- 

*  I  have  elsewhere  noticed  that  this  is  a  deviation  from  the  truth; 
Charlotte  Countess  of  Derby  was  a  Huguenot 


110  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

not  see,  listen  to,  or  understand  what  is  alone  worthy  to  be 
heard,  seen,  and  known  ?  Pity,  that  what  hath  been 
wrought  so  fair  and  exquisite  in  form  and  in  disposition 
should  be  yet  blind,  deaf,  and  ignorant,  like  the  things 
which  perish  I " 

"  We  shall  not  agTee  on  these  subjects,  Master  Bridge- 
north,"  said  the  lady,  anxious  still  to  escape  from  this  strange 
conference,  though  scarce  knowing  what  to  apprehend; 
**once  more,  I  must  bid  you  farewell." 

"  Stay  yet  an  instant,"  he  said,  again  laying  his  hand  on 
her  arm  ;  ''  I  would  stop  you  if  I  saw  you  rushing  on  the  brink 
of  an  actual  precipice  ;  let  me  prevent  you  from  a  danger  still 
greater.  How  shall  I  work  upon  your  unbelieving  mind  ? 
Shall  I  tell  you  that  the  debt  of  bloodshed  yet  remains  a  debt 
to  be  paid  by  the  bloody  house  of  Derby  ?  And  wilt  thou 
send  thy  son  to  be  among  those  from  whom  it  shall  be 
exacted  ?  "  _ 

"  You  wish  to  alarm  me  in  vain,  Master  Bridgenorth,"  an- 
swered the  lady  ;  ^*what  penalty  can  be  exacted  from  the 
countess  for  an  action  which  I  have  already  called  a  rash  one 
has  been  long  since  levied." 

"You  deceive  yourself,"  retorted  he,  sternly.  "Think 
you  a  paltry  sum  of  money  given  to  be  wasted  on  the  de- 
baucheries of  Charles  can  atone  for  the  death  of  such  a  man 
as  Christian — a  man  precious  alike  to  Heaven  and  to  earth  ? 
Not  on  such  terms  is  the  blood  of  the  righteous  to  be  poured 
forth!  Every  hour's  delay  is  numbered  down  as  adding  in- 
terest to  the  grievous  debt  which  will  one  day  be  required 
from  that  bloodthirsty  woman." 

At  this  moment,  the  distant  tread  of  horses  was  heard  on 
the  road  on  which  they  held  this  singular  dialogue.  Bridge- 
north  listened  a  moment,  and  then  said,  "  Forget  that  you 
have  seen  me — name  not  my  name  to  your  nearest  or  dearest 
— lock  my  counsel  in  your  breast — profit  by  it,  and  it  shall 
be  well  with  you." 

So  saying,  he  turned  from  her,  and,  plunging  through  a 
gap  in  the  fence,  regained  the  cover  of  his  own  wood,  along 
which  the  path  still  led. 

The  noise  of  horses  advancin  gat  full  trot  now  came  nearer ; 
and  Lady  Peveril  was  aware  of  several  riders,  whose  forms 
rose  indistinctly  on  the  summit  of  the  rising  ground  behind 
her.  She  became  also  visible  to  them,  and  one  or  two  of 
the  foremost  made  towards  her  at  increased  speed,  challeng- 
mg  her  as  they  advanced  with  the  cry  of  "  Stand  !  Who  goes 
there  ?  "    The  foremost  who  came  up,  however,  exclaimed. 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  111 

*' Mercy  on  ns,  if  it  be  not  my  lady  !"  and  Lady  Peveril,  at 
the  same  moment,  recognized  one  of  her  own  servants.  Her 
husband  rode  np  immediately  afterwards,  with,  "  How  now. 
Dame  Margaret  ?  What  makes  you  abroad  so  far  from  home, 
and  at  an  hour  so  late  ?'' 

Lady  Peveril  mentioned  her  visit  at  the  cottage,  but  did 
not  think  it  necessary  to  say  anght  of  having  seen  Major 
Bridgenorth,  afraid,  perhaps,  that  her  husband  might  be 
displeased  with  that  incident. 

^'  Charity  is  a  fine  thing,  and  a  fair,"  answered  Sir  Geof- 
frey ;  "  but  I  must  tell  you,  you  do  ill,  dame,  to  wander  about 
the  country  like  a  quacksalver  at  the  call  of  every  old  woman 
who  has  a  colic-fit  ;  and  at  this  time  of  night  especially,  and 
when  the  land  is  so  unsettled  besides." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that  it  is  so,"  said  the  lady.  ''  I  had 
heard  no  such  news." 

''News  !"  repeated  Sir  Geoffrey;  ''why,  here  has  a  new 
plot  broken  out  among  the  Eoundheads,  worse  than  Venner's 
by  a  butt's  length  ;*  and  who  should  be  so  deep  in  it  as  our 
old  neighbor  Bridgenorth  ?  There  is  search  for  him  every- 
where ;  and  I  promise  you,  if  he  is  found,  he  is  like  to  pay 
old  scores." 

"  Then  I  am  sure  I  trust  he  will  not  be  found,"  said  Lady 
Peveril. 

"  Do  you  so  ?  "  replied  Sir  Geoffrey.  "  Now  I,  on  my  part, 
hope  that  he  will ;  and  it  shall  not  be  my  fault  if  he  be  not ; 
for  which  effect  1  will  presently  ride  down  to  Moultrassie, 
and  make  strict  search,  according  to  my  duty  ;  there  shall 
neither  rebel  nor  traitor  earth  so  near  Martindale  Castle,  that 
I  will  assure  them.  And  you,  my  lady,  be  pleased  for  once 
to  dispense  with  a  pillion,  and  get  up,  as  you  have  done  be- 
fore, behind  Saunders,  who  shall  convey  you  safe  home." 

The  lady  obeyed  in  silence ;  indeed,  she  did  not  dare  to 
trust  her  voice  in  an  attempt  to  reply,  so  much  was  she  dis- 
concerted with  the  intelligence  she  had  just  heard. 

She  rode  behind  the  groom  to  the  castle,  where  she  awaited 
in  great  anxiety  the  return  of  her  husband.  He  came  back 
at  length  ,  but  to  her  great  relief,  without  any  prisoner.  He 
then  explained  more  fully  than  his  haste  had  before  per- 
mitted that  an  express  had  come  down  to  Chesterfield  with 
news  from  court  of  a  purposed  insurrection  amongst  the  old 

*  The  celebrated  insurrection  of  the  Anabaptists  and  Fifth  Mon- 
archy men  in  London,  in  the  year  1661.  [See  Note  41,  Venner's  In- 
surrection, p.  611.) 


il2  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

Commonwealth  men,  especially  those  who  had  served  in  the 
army ;  and  that  Bridgenorth,  said  to  be  lurking  in  Derby- 
shire was  one  of  the  principal  conspirators. 

After  some  time,  this  report  of  a  conspiracy  seemed  to  die 
away  like  many  others  of  that  period.  The  warrants  were 
recalled,  but  nothing  more  was  seen  or  heard  of  Major 
Bridgenorth ;  although  it  is  probable  he  might  safely 
enough  have  shown  himself  as  openly  as  many  did  who  lay 
under  the  same  circumstances  of  suspicion.* 

About  this  time  also,  Lady  Peveril,  with  many  tears,  took 
a  temporary  leave  of  her  son  Julian,  who  was  sent,  as  had 
long  been  intended,  for  the  purpose  of  sharing  the  education 
of  the  young  Earl  of  Derby.  Although  the  boding  words  of 
Bridgenorth  sometimes  occurred  to  Lady  PeveriFs  mind,  she 
did  not  suffer  them  to  weigh  with  her  in  opposition  to  the 
advantages  which  the  patronage  of  the  Countess  of  Derby 
secured  to  her  son. 

The  plan  seemed  to  be  in  every  respect  successful ;  and 
when,  from  time  to  time,  Julian  visited  the  house  of  his 
father.  Lady  Peveril  had  the  satisfaction  to  see  him,  on  every 
occasion,  improved  in  person  and  in  manner,  as  well  as  ardent 
in  the  pursuit  of  more  solid  acquirements.  In  process  of 
time,  he  became  a  gallant  and  accomplished  youth,  and 
traveled  for  some  time  upon  the  Continent  with  the  young 
earl.  This  was  the  more  especially  necessary  for  the  enlarg- 
ing of  their  acquaintance  with  the  world,  because  the  coun- 
tess had  never  appeared  in  London,  or  at  the  court  of  King 
Charles,  since  her  flight  to  the  Isle  of  Man  in  1660  ;  but  had 
resided  in  solitary  and  aristocratic  state,  alternately  on  her 
estates  in  England  and  in  that  island. 

This  had  given  to  the  education  of  both  the  young  men, 
otherwise  as  excellent  as  the  best  teachers  could  render  it, 
something  of  a  narrow  and  restricted  character  ;  but  though 
the  disposition  of  the  young  earl  was  lighter  and  more 
volatile  than  that  of  Julian,  both  the  one  and  the  other  had 
profited,  in  a  considerable  degree,  by  the  opportunities 
afforded  them.  It  was  Lady  Derby^s  strict  injunction  to  her 
son,  now  returning  from  the  Continent,  that  he  should  not 
appear  at  the  court  of  Charles.  But  having  been  for  some 
time  of  age,  he  did  not  think  it  absolutely  necessary  to  obey 
her  in  this  particular  ;  and  had  remained  for  some  time  in 
London,  partaking  the  pleasures  of  the  gay  court  there, 
with  all  the  ardor  of  a  young  man  bred  up  in  comparative 
seclusion. 

♦  See  Persecution  of  the  Puritans.    Note  8. 


PEVEBIL  OF  TRE  PEAK  US 

In  order  to  reconcile  the  countess  to  this  transgression  of 
her  authority,  for  he  continued  to  entertain  for  her  the  pro- 
found respect  in  which  he  had  been  educated.  Lord  Derby 
agreed  to  make  a  long  sojourn  with  her  in  her  favorite  island, 
which  he  abandoned  almost  entirely  to  her  management. 

Julian  Peveril  had  spent  at  Martindale  Castle  a  good  deal 
of  the  time  which  his  friend  had  bestowed  in  London  ;  and 
at  the  period  to  which,  passing  over  many  years,  our  story 
has  arrived,  as  it  were  per  saltum,  they  were  both  living,  a3 
the  countess's  guests,  in  the  Castle  of  Rushin,  in  the  v^ner* 
able  kingdom  of  Man. 
S 


CHAPTER    XI 

Mona,  long  hid  from  those  who  roam  the  main. 

Collins. 

The  Isle  of  Man,  in  the  middle  of  the  17th  century,  was 
very  different,  as  a  place  of  residence,  from  what  it  is  now. 
Men  had  not  then  discovered  its  merit  as  a  place  of  occasional 
refuge  from  the  storms  of  life,  and  the  society  to  be  there 
met  with  was  of  a  very  uniform  tenor.  There  were  no  smart 
fellows,  whom  fortune  had  tumbled  from  the  seat  of  their 
barouches,  no  plucked  pigeons  or  winged  rooks,  no  disap- 
pointed speculators,  no  ruined  miners — in  short,  no  one 
worth  talking  to.  The  society  of  the  island  was  limited  to 
the  natives  themselves,  and  a  few  merchants,  who  lived  by 
contraband  trade.  The  amusements  were  rare  and  monot- 
onous, and  the  mercurial  young  earl  was  soon  heartily  tried 
of  his  dominions.  The  islanders  also,  become  too  wise  for 
happiness,  had  lost  relish  for  the  harmless  and  somewhat 
childish  sports  in  which  their  simple  ancestors  had  indulged 
themselves.  May  was  no  longer  ushered  in  by  the  imaginary 
contest  between  the  queen  of  retiring  winter  and  advancing 
spring  ;  the  listeners  no  longer  sympathized  with  the  lively 
music  of  the  followers  of  the  one  or  the  discordant  sounds 
with  which  the  other  asserted  a  more  noisy  claim  to  atten- 
tion. Christmas,  too,  closed,  and  the  steeples  no  longer 
jangled  forth  a  dissonant  peal.  The  wren,  to  seek  for  which 
used  to  be  the  sport  dedicated  to  the  holytidc,  was  left  un- 
pursued  and  unslain.  Party  spirit  had  come  among  these 
simple  people,  and  destroyed  their  good-humor,  while  it  left 
them  their  ignorance.  Even  the  races,  a  sport  generally 
interesting  to  people  of  all  ranks,  were  no  longer  performed, 
because  they  were  no  longer  attractive.  The  gentlemen 
were  divided  by  feuds  hitherto  unknown,  and  each  seemed 
to  hold  it  scorn  to  be  pleased  with  the  same  diversions  that 
amused  those  of  the  opposite  faction.  The  hearts  of  both 
parties  revolted  from  the  recollection  of  former  days,  when 
all  was  peace  among  them,  when  the  Earl  of  Derby,  now 
slaughtered,  used  to  bestow  the  prize,  and  Christian,  since 

114 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  118 

so  vindictively  executed,  started  horses  to  add  to  the 
amusement.* 

Julian  was  seated  in  the  deep  recess  which  led  to  a  latticed 
window  of  the  old  castle  ;  and,  with  his  arms  crossed,  and 
an  air  of  profound  contemplation,  was  surveying  the  xong 
perspective  of  ocean,  which  rolled  its  successive  waves  up  to 
the  foot  of  the  rock  on  which  the  ancient  pile  is  founded. 
The  earl  was  suffering  under  the  infliction  of  ennui,  now 
looking  into  a  volume  of  Homer,  now  whistling,  now  swing- 
ing on  his  chair,  now  traversing  the  room,  till  at  length  his 
attention  became  swallowed  up  in  admiration  of  the  tran- 
quillity of  his  companion. 

**  King  of  men  ! ''  he  said,  repeating  the  favorite  epithet 
by  which  Homer  describes  Agamemnon — ^*  I  trust,  for  the 
old  Greek^s  sake,  he  had  a  merrier  office  than  being  King  of 
Man.  Most  philosophical  Julian,  will  nothing  rouse  thee, 
not  even  a  bad  pun  on  my  own  royal  dignity  't" 

"  I  wish  you  would  be  a  little  more  the  King  in  Man," 
said  Julian,  starting  from  his  reverie,  ^'  and  then  you  would 
find  more  amusement  in  your  dominions.'' 

"  What  !  dethrone  that  royal  Semiramis  my  mother,'' 
said  the  young  lord,  "  who  has  much  pleasure  in  playing 
queen  as  if  she  were  a  real  sovereign  ?  I  wonder  you  can 
give  me  such  counsel." 

"  Your  mother,  as  you  well  know,  my  dear  Derby,  would 
be  delighted  did  you  take  any  interest  in  the  affairs  of  the 
island." 

''  Ay,  truly,  she  would  permit  me  to  be  king ;  but  she 
would  choose  to  remain  viceroy  over  me.  Why,  she  would 
only  gain  a  subject  the  more,  by  my  converting  my  spare 
time,  which  is  so  very  valuable  to  me,  to  the  cares  of  royalty. 
No — no,  Julian,  she  thinks  it  power  to  direct  all  the  affairs 
of  these  poor  Manxmen  ;  and,  thinking  it  power,  she  find? 
it  pleasure.  I  shall  not  interfere,  unless  she  hold  a  high 
court  of  justice  again.  I  cannot  afford  to  pay  another  fine 
to  my  brother.  King  Charles.  But  I  forget — this  is  a  sore 
point  with  you." 

*'  With  the  countess,  at  least,"  replied  Julian;  "and  I 
wonder  you  will  speak  of  it." 

'*  Why,  I  bear  no  malice  against  the  poor  man's  memory 
any  more  than  yourself,  though  I  have  not  the  same  reasons 
for  holding  it  in  veneration,"  replied  the  Earl  of  Derby  ; 
*'  and  yet  I  have  some  respect  for  it  too.     I  remember  their 

*See  Popular  Pastimes  in  the  Isle  of  Man.    Note  9. 


ad  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

bringing  him  out  to  die.  It  was  the  first  holiday  I  ever  had 
in  my  life,  and  I  heartily  wish  it  had  been  on  some  other 
account/' 

^' I  would  rather  hear  you  speak  of  anything  else,  my 
lord/'  said  Julian. 

'^Whj,  there  it  goes/'  answered  the  earl  ;  '^  whenever  I 
talk  of  anything  that  puts  you  on  your  mettle  and  warms 
your  blood,  that  runs  as  cold  as  a  merman's — to  use  a  simile 
of  this  happy  island — hey  pass  !  you  press  me  to  change  the 
subject.  Well,  what  shall  we  talk  of  ?  0  Julian,  if  you 
had  not  gone  down  to  earth  yourself  among  the  castles  and 
caverns  of  Derbyshire,  we  should  have  had  enough  of  de- 
licious topics — the  playhouses,  Julian  !  both  the  King's 
house  and  the  Duke's — Louis's  establishment  is  a  jest  to 
them  ;  and  the  Ring  in  the  Park,  which  beats  the  Corso  at 
Naples  ;  and  the  beauties,  who  beat  the  whole  world  ! " 

^'I  am  very  willing  to  hear  you  speak  on  the  subject,  my 
lord,"  answered  Julian  ;  '"^  the  less  I  have  seen  of  the  London 
world  myself,  the  more  I  am  likely  to  be  amused  by  your 
account  of  it." 

'*  Ay,  my  friend,  but  where  to  begin  ?  with  the  wit  of 
Buckingham,  and  Sedle}^,  and  Etherege,  or  with  the  grace 
of  Harry  Jermyn,  the  courtesy  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth, 
or  with  the  loveliness  of  La  Belle  Hamilton,  of  the  Duchess 

of  Richmond,  of  Lady ,  the   person   of  Roxalana,  the 

smart  humor  of  Mrs.  Nelly " 

'^^Or  what  say  you  to  the  bewitching  sorceries  of  Lady 
Cynthia  ?"  demanded  his  companion. 

"  Faith,  I  would  have  kept  these  to  myself,"  said  the  earl, 
''  to  follow  your  prudent  example.  But  since  you  ask  me,  I 
fairly  own  I  cannot  tell  what  to  say  of  them  ;  only  I  think 
of  them  twenty  times  as  often  as  all  the  beauties  I  have  spoke 
of.  And  yet  she  is  neither  the  twentieth  part  so  beautiful 
as  the  plainest  of  these  court  beauties,  nor  so  witty  as  the 
dullest  I  have  named,  nor  so  modish — that  is  the  great  mat- 
ter— as  the  most  obscure.  I  cannot  tell  what  makes  me  dote 
on  her,  except  that  she  is  as  capricious  as  her  whole  sex  put 
together/' 

"  That  I  should  think  a  small  recommendation,"  answered 
his  companion. 

^'  Small,  do  you  term  it,"  replied  the  earl,  "  and  write 
yourself  a  brother  of  the  angle  ?  Why,  which  like  you  best  ? 
to  pull  a  dead  strain  on  a  miserable  gudgeon,  which  you  draw 
ashore  by  main  force,  as  the  fellows  here  tow  in  their  fishing- 
boats  ;  or  a  lively  salmon,  that  makes  your  rod  crack  and 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  117 

your  line  whistle — plays  you  ten  thousand  mischievous  pranks 
— wearies  your  heart  out  with  hopes  and  fears — and  is  only 
laid  panting  on  the  bank  after  you  have  shown  the  most  un- 
matchable  display  of  skill,  patience,  and  dexterity  ?  But  I 
see  you  have  a  mind  to  go  on  angling  after  your  own  old 
fashion.  Off  laced  coat,  and  on  brown  jerkin  ;  lively  colors 
scare  fish  in  the  sober  waters  of  the  Isle  of  Man  ;  faith,  in 
London  you  will  catch  few,  unless  the  bait  glistens  a  little. 
But  you  are  going  ?  well,  good  luck  to  you.  I  will  take  to 
the  barge  ;  the  sea  and  wind  are  less  inconstant  than  the 
tide  you  have  embarked  on.^' 

'^  You  have  learned  to  say  all  these  smart  things  in  London, 
my  lord,"  answered  Julian  ;  "  but  we  shall  have  you  a  peni- 
tent for  them,  if  Lady  Cynthia  be  of  my  mind.  Adieu,  and 
pleasure  till  we  meet." 

The  young  men  parted  accordingly  ;  and  while  the  earl 
betook  him  to  his  pleasure-voyage,  Julian,  as  his  friend  had 
prophesied,  assumed  the  dress  of  one  who  means  to  amuse 
himself  with  angling.  The  hat  and  feather  were  exchanged 
for  a  cap  of  gray  cloth  ;  the  deeply-laced  cloak  and  doublet 
for  a  simple  jacket  of  the  same  color,  with  hose  conforming  ; 
and  finally,  with  rod  in  hand  and  pannier  at  his  back, 
mounted  upon  a  handsome  Manx  pony,  young  Peveril  rode 
briskly  over  the  country  which  divided  him  from  one  of  those 
beautiful  streams  that  descend  to  the  sea  from  the  Kirk- 
Merlagh  mountains. 

Having  reached  the  spot  where  he  meant  to  commence  his 
day's  sport,  Julian  let  his  little  steed  graze,  which,  accus- 
tomed to  the  situation,  followed  him  like  a  dog  ;  and  now 
and  then,  when  tired  of  picking  herbage  in  the  valley  through 
which  the  stream  winded,  came  near  her  master's  side,  and, 
as  if  she  had  been  a  curious  amateur  of  the  sport,  gazed  on 
the  trouts  as  Julian  brought  them  stroggling  to  the  shore. 
But  Fairy's  master  showed,  on  that  day,  little  of  the  patience 
of  a  real  angler,  and  took  no  heed  to  old  Isaac  Walton's  rec- 
ommendation to  fish  the  streams  inch  by  inch.  He  chose, 
indeed,  with  an  angler's  eye,  the  most  promising  casts,  where 
the  stream  broke  sparkling  over  a  stone,  affording  the  wonted 
shelter  to  a  trout ;  or  where,  gliding  away  from  a  rippling 
current  to  a  still  eddy,  it  streamed  under  the  projecting  bank, 
or  dashed  from  the  pool  of  some  low  cascade.  By  this 
judicious  selection  of  spots  whereon  to  employ  his  art,  the 
sportsman's  basket  was  soon  sufficiently  heavy  to  show  that 
his  occupation  was  not  a  mere  pretext ;  and  so  soon  as  this 
was  the  case,  he  walked  briskly  up  the  glen,  only  making  a 


118  WA  VERL ET  NO  VEL S 

cast  from  time  to  time,  in  case  of  his  being  observed  from 
any  of  the  neighboring  heights. 

It  was  a  little  green  and  rocky  valley  through  which  the 
brooks  strayed,  very  lonely,  although  the  slight  track  of  an 
unformed  road  showed  that  it  was  occasionally  traversed, 
and  that  it  was  not  altogether  void  of  inhabitants.  As 
Peveril  advanced  still  farther,  the  right  bank  reached  to  some 
distance  from  the  stream,  leaving  a  piece  of  meadow  ground, 
the  lower  part  of  which,  being  close  to  the  brook,  was  en- 
tirely covered  with  rich  herbage,  being  possibly  occasionally 
irrigated  by  its  overflow.  The  higher  part  of  the  level 
ground  afforded  a  stance  for  an  old  house,  of  a  singular 
structure,  with  a  terraced  garden,  and  a  cultivated  field  or 
two  beside  it.  In  former  times  a  Danish  or  Norwegian  fast- 
ness had  stood  here,  called  the  Black  Fort,  from  the  color 
of  a  huge  heathy  hill,  which,  rising  behind  the  building, 
appeared  to  be  the  boundary  of  the  valley,  and  to  afford  the 
source  of  the  brook.  But  the  original  structure  had  been 
long  demolished,  as,  indeed,  it  probably  only  consisted  of 
dry  stones,  and  its  materials  had  been  applied  to  the  con- 
struction of  the  present  mansion — the  work  of  some  church- 
man during  the  16th  century,  as  was  evident  from  the  huge 
stonework  of  its  windows,  which  scarce  left  room  for  light 
to  pass  through,  as  well  as  from  two  or  three  heavy  but- 
tresses, which  projected  from  the  front  of  the  house,  and  ex- 
hibited on  their  surface  little  niches  for  images.  These  had 
been  carefully  destroyed,  and  pots  of  flowers  were  placed  in 
the  niches  in  their  stead,  besides  their  being  ornamented  by 
creeping  plants  of  various  kinds,  fancifully  twined  around 
them.  The  garden  was  also  in  good  order  ;  and  though  the 
spot  was  extremely  solitary,  there  was  about  it  altogether  an 
air  of  comfort,  accommodation,  and  even  elegance,  by  no 
means  generally  characteristic  of  the  habitations  of  the  island 
at  the  time. 

With  much  circumspection,  Julian  Peveril  approached  the 
low  Gothic  porch,  which  defended  the  entrance  of  the  man- 
sion from  the  tempests  incident  to  its  situation,  and  was,  like 
the  buttresses,  overrun  with  ivy  and  other  creeping  plants. 
An  iron  ring,  contrived  so  as  when  drawn  up  and  down  to 
rattle  against  the  bar  of  notched  iron  through  which  it  was 
suspended,  served  the  purpose  of  a  knocker  ;  and  to  this  he 
applied  himself,  though  with  the  greatest  precaution. 

He  received  no  answer  for  some  time,  and  indeed  it  seemed 
as  if  the  house  was  totally  uninhabited  ;  when  at  length,  his 
impatience  getting  the  upper  hand,  he  tried  to  open  the 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  119 

door,  and,  as  it  was  only  upon  the  latch,  very  easily  succeeded. 
He  passed  through  a  little  low-arched  hall,  the  upper  end  of 
which  was  occupied  by  a  staircase,  and  turning  to  the  left, 
opened  the  door  of  a  summer  parlor,  wainscoted  with  black 
oak,  and  very  simply  furnished  with  chairs  and  tables  of  the 
same  materials,  the  former  cushioned  with  leather.  The 
apartment  was  gloomy — one  of  those  stone-shafted  windows 
which  we  have  mentioned,  with  its  small  latticed  panes,  and 
thick  garland  of  foliage,  admitting  but  an  imperfect  light. 

Over  the  chimney-piece,  which  was  of  the  same  massive 
materials  with  the  paneling  of  the  apartment,  was  the  only 
ornament  of  the  room — a  painting,  namely,  representing  an 
officer  in  the  military  dress  of  the  Civil  Wars.  It  was  a  green 
jerkin,  then  the  national  and  peculiar  color  of  the  Manx- 
men, his  short  band,  which  hung  down  on  the  cuirass,  the 
orange-colored  scarf,  but,  above  all,  the  shortness  of  his 
close-cut  hair,  showing  evidently  to  which  of  the  great  parties 
he  had  belonged.  His  right  hand  rested  on  the  hilt  of  his 
sword  ;  and  in  the  left  he  held  a  small  Bible,  bearing  the 
inscription,  "  In  hoc  signo."  The  countenance  was  of  a  fair 
and  almost  effeminate  complexion,  with  light  blue  eyes,  and 
an  oval  form  of  face  ;  one  of  those  physiognomies  to  which, 
though  not  otherwise  unpleasing,  we  naturally  attach  the 
idea  of  melancholy  and  of  misfortune.*  A.pparently  it  was 
well  known  to  Julian  Peveril ;  for,  after  having  looked  at  it 
for  a  long  time,  he  could  not  forbear  muttering  aloud, 
^'  What  would  I  give  that  that  man  had  never  been  born,  or 
that  he  still  lived  \" 

'^  How  now — how  is  this  ?''  said  a  female,  who  entered  the 
room  as  he  uttered  this  reflection.  *'  You  here,  Master 
Peveril,  in  spite  of  all  the  warnings  you  have  had  !  You 
here,  in  the  possession  of  folks'  house  when  they  are  abroad, 
and  talking  to  yourself,  as  I  shall  warrant  ! " 

"  Yes,  Mistress  Deborah,'^  said  Peveril,  '  *  I  am  here  once 
more,  as  you  see,  against  every  prohibition,  and  in  defiance 
of  all  danger.     Where  is  Alice  V 

"  Where  you  will  never  see  her.  Master  Julian,  you  may 
satisfy  yourself  of  that,''  answered  Mistress  Deborah,  for  it 
was  that  respectable  governante  ;  and  sinking  down  at  the 
same  time  upon  one  of  the  large  leathern  chairs,  she  began 
to  fan  herself  with  her  handkerchief,  and  complain  of  the 
heat  in  a  most  ladylike  fashion. 

In  fact.  Mistress  Debbitch,  while  her  exterior  intimated  a 

*  See  Portrait  of  William  Christian.    Note  10. 


120  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

considerable  change  of  condition  for  the  better,  and  her 
countenance  showed  the  less  favorable  effects  of  the  twenty 
years  which  had  passed  over  her  head,  was  in  mind  and 
manners  very  much  what  she  had  been  when  she  battled 
the  opinions  of  Madam  Ellesmere  at  Martindale  Castle.  In 
a  word,  she  was  self-willed,  obstinate,  and  coquettish  as  ever, 
otherwise  no  ill-disposed  person.  Her  present  appearance 
was  that  of  a  woman  of  the  better  rank.  From  the  sobriety 
of  the  fashion  of  her  dress,  and  the  uniformity  of  its  colors, 
it  was  plain  she  belonged  to  some  sect  which  condemned 
superfluous  gaiety  in  attire  ;  but  no  rules,  not  those  of  a 
nunnery  or  of  a  Quaker's  society,  can  prevent  a  little  co- 
quetry in  that  particular,  where  a  woman  is  desirous  of  being 
supposed  to  retain  some  claim  to  personal  attention.  All 
Mistress  Deborah's  garments  were  so  arranged  as  might  best 
set  off  a  good-looking  woman,  whose  countenance  indicated 
ease  and  good  cheer,  who  called  herself  five-and  thirty,  and 
was  well  entitled,  if  she  had  a  mind,  to  call  herself  twelve 
or  fifteen  years  older. 

Julian  was  under  the  necessity  of  enduring  all  her  tire- 
some and  fantastic  airs,  and  awaiting  with  patience  till  she 
had  "  prinked  herself  and  prinned  herself,"  flung  her  hoods 
back  and  drawn  them  forward,  snuffed  at  a  little  bottle  of 
essences,  closed  her  eyes  like  a  dying  fowl,  turned  them  up 
like  a  duck  in  a  thunderstorm — when  at  length,  having  ex- 
hausted her  round  of  minauderies,  she  condescended  to 
open  the  conversation. 

''  These  walks  will  be  the  death  of  me,''  she  said,  ''  and 
all  on  your  account.  Master  Julian  Peveril ;  for  if  Dame 
Christian  should  learn  that  you  have  chosen  to  make  your 
vists  to  her  niece,  I  promise  you  Mistress  Alice  would  be 
soon  obliged  to  find  other  quarters,  and  so  should  I." 

^'Come  now.  Mistress  Deborah,  be  good-humored," said 
Julian  ;  'Vconsider,  was  not  all  this  intimacy  of  ours  of 
your  own  making  ?  Did  you  not  make  yourself  known  to 
me  the  very  first  time  I  strolled  up  this  glen  with  my  fishing- 
rod,  and  tellme  that  you  were  my  former  keeper,  and  that 
Alice  had  been  my  little  playfellow  ?  And  what  could  there 
be  more  natural  than  that  I  should  come  back  and  see  two 
such  agreeable  persons  as  often  as  I  could  ?  " 

''  Yes,"  said  Dame  Deborah  ;  '^  but  I  did  not  bid  you  fall 
in  love  with  us,  though,  or  propose  such  a  matter  as  mar- 
riage either  to  Alice  or  myself." 

^'^To  do  you  justice,  you  never  did,  Deborah,"  answered 
the  youth  ;  "  but  what  of  that  ?    Such  things  will  com<5  out 


PEVEEIL  OF  THE  PEAK  121 

before  one  is  aware.  I  am  sure  you  must  hare  heard  such 
proposals  fifty  times  when  you  least  expected  them." 

*' Fie — fie — fie.  Master  Julian  Peveril/'said  the  gover- 
nante ;  ^'I  would  have  you  to  know  that  I  have  always  so 
behaved  myself  that  the  best  of  the  land  would  have  thought 
twice  of  it,  and  have  very  well  considered  both  what  he  was 
going  to  say  and  how  he  was  going  to  say  it,  before  he  came 
out  with  such  proposals  to  me." 

^'  True — true.  Mistress  Deborah,"  continued  Julian  ;  ^'  but 
all  the  world  have  not  your  discretion.  Then  Alice  Bridge- 
north  is  a  child — a  mere  child  ;  and  one  always  asks  a  baby 
to  be  one's  little  wife,  you  know.  Come,  I  know  you  will 
forgive  me.  Thou  wert  ever  the  best-natured,  kindest 
woman  in  the  world  ;  and  you  know  you  have  said  twenty 
times  we  were  made  for  each  other." 

^'  0  no,  Master  Julian  Peveril  ;  no — no— no  !"  ejaculated 
Deborah.  '*  I  may  indeed  have  said  your  estates  were  born 
to  be  united  ;  and  to  be  sure  it  is  natural  to  me,  that  come 
of  the  old  stock  of  the  honest  yeomanry  of  Peveril  of  the 
Peak^s  estate,  to  wish  that  it  was  all  within  the  ring  fence 
again  ;  which  sure  enough  it  might  be,  were  you  to  marry 
Alice  Bridgenorth.  But  then  there  is  the  knight  your  father 
and  my  lady  your  mother  ;  and  there  is  her  father,  that  is 
half  crazy  with  his  religion  ;  and  her  aunt,  that  wears 
eternal  black  grogram  for  that  unlucky  Colonel  Christian  ; 
and  th«re  is  the  Countess  of  Derby,  that  would  serve  us  all 
with  the  same  sauce  if  we  were  thinking  of  anything  that 
would  displease  her.  And  besides  all  that,  you  have  broke 
your  word  with  Mistress  Alice,  and  everything  is  over  between 
you  ;  and  I  am  of  opinion  it  is  quite  right  it  should  be  all 
over.  And  perhaps  it  may  be,  Master  Julian,  that  I  should 
have  thought  so  a  long  time  ago,  before  a  child  like  Alice 
put  it  into  my  head  ;  but  I  am  so  good-natured." 

No  flatterer  like  a  lover  who  wishes  to  carry  his  point. 

"  You  are  the  best-natured,  kindest  creature  in  the  world, 
Deborah.  But  you  have  never  seen  the  ring  I  bought  for 
you  at  Paris.  Nay,  I  will  put  it  on  your  finger  myself  ; 
what !  your  foster-son,  whom  you  loved  so  well,  and  took 
such  care  of !'' 

He  easily  succeeded  in  putting  a  pretty  ring  of  gold,  witli 
a  humorous  affectation  of  gallantry,  on  the  fat  finger  of 
Mistress  Deborah  Debbitch.  Hers  was  a  soul  of  a  kind  often 
to  be  met  with,  both  among  the  lower  and  higher  vulgar, 
who,  without  being,  on  a  broad  scale,  accessible  to  bribes 
pr  corruption,  are  nevertheless  much  attached  to  perquisites, 


1S2  WA  VEBLET  JV0VEL8 

and  considerably  biassed  in  their  line  of  duty,  though  perhaps 
insensibly,  by  the  love  of  petty  obervances,  petty  presents, 
and  trivial  compliments.  Mistress  Debbitch  turned  the 
ring  round,  and  round,  and  round,  and  at  length  said,  in  a 
w^hisper,  ''  Well,  Master  Julian  Peveril,  it  signifies  nothing 
denying  anything  to  such  a  young  gentleman  as  you,  for 
young  gentlemen  are  always  so  obstinate  !  and  so  I  may  as 
well  tell  you  that  Mistress  Alice  walked  back  from  Kirk- 
Truagh  along  with  me  just  now,  and  entered  the  house  at 
the  same  time  with  myself/' 

'^  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  so  before  ?  "  said  Julian,  start- 
ing up  ;  *'  where — where  is  she  ?  " 

"  You  had  better  ask  why  I  tell  you  so  now,  Master  Julian,^' 
said  Dame  Deborah  ;  '^  for,  I  promise  you,  it  is  against  her 
express  commands  ;  and  I  would  not  have  told  you  had  you 
not  looked  so  pitiful.  But  as  for  seeing  you,  that  she  will 
not  ;  and  she  is  in  her  own  bedroom,  with  a  good  oak  door 
shut  and  bolted  upon  her,  that  is  one  comfort.  And  so,  as 
for  any  breach  of  trust  on  my  part — I  promise  you,  the  little 
saucy  minx  gives  it  no  less  name — it  is  quite  impossible. ''' 

*'  Do  not  say  so,  Deborah — only  go — only  try — tell  her 
to  hear  me — tell  her  I  have  a  hundred  excuses  for  disobey- 
ing her  commands — tell  her  I  have  no  doubt  to  get  over  ail 
obstacles  at  Martindale  Castle. '^ 

"  Nay,  I  tell  you  it  is  all  in  vain,''  replied  the  dame. 
"  When  I  saw  your  cap  and  rod  lying  in  the  hall,  I  did  but 
say,  *  There  he  is  again,'  and  she  ran  up  the  stairs  like  a 
young  deer  ;  and  I  heard  key  turned  and  bolts  shot  ere  I 
could  say  a  single  word  to  stop  her  ;  I  marvel  you  heard  her 
not." 

'^  It  was  because  I  am,  as  I  ever  was,  an  owl — a  dreaming 
fool,  who  let  all  those  golden  minutes  pass  which  my  luck- 
less life  holds  out  to  me  so  rarely.  Well — tell  her  I  go — go 
forever — go  where  she  will  hear  no  more  of  me — where  no 
one  shall  hear  more  of  me  ! " 

"  0,  the  Father  ! "  said  the  dame,  *'  hear  how  he  talks  ! 
What  will  become  of  Sir  Geoffrey,  and  your  mother,  and  of 
me,  and  of  the  countess,  if  you  were  to  go  so  far  as  you  talk 
of  ?  And  what  would  become  of  poor  Alice  too  ?  for  I  will 
be  sworn  she  likes  you  better  than  she  says,  and  I  know  she 
used  to  sit  and  look  the  way  that  you  used  to  come  up  the 
stream,  and  now  and  then  ask  me  if  the  morning  were  good 
for  fishing.  And  all  the  while  you  were  on  the  Continent, 
as  they  call  it,  she  scarcely  smiled  once,  unless  it  was  when 
she  got  two  beautiful  long  letters  about  foreign  parts." 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  128 

*'  Friendship,  Dame  Deborah — only  friendship — cold  and 
calm  remembrance  of  one  who,  by  your  kind  permission, 
stole  in  on  your  solitude  now  and  then,  with  news  from  the 
living  world  without.  Once,  indeed,  I  thought — but  it  is 
all  over — farewell/' 

So  saying,  he  covered  his  face  with  one  hand,  and  extended 
the  other,  in  the  act  of  bidding  adieu  to  Dame  Debbitch, 
whose  kind  heart  became  unabk  to  withstand  the  sight  of 
his  affliction. 

"  Now,  do  not  be  in  such  haste,"  she  said  ;  *'  I  will  go  up 
again,  and  tell  her  how  it  stands  with  you,  and  bring  her 
down,  if  it  is  in  woman's  power  to  do  it." 

And  so  saying,  she  left  the  apartment  and  ran  up-stairs. 

Julian  Peveril,  meanwhile,  paced  the  apartment  in  great 
agitation,  waiting  the  success  of  Deborah's  intercession  ; 
and  she  remained  long  enough  absent  to  give  us  time  to  ex- 
plain, in  a  short  retrospect,  the  circumstances  which  had  led 
to  his  present  situation. 


OHAPTEE  XII 

Ah  me  I  for  aught  that  ever  I  could  read, 

Could  ever  hear  by  tale  or  history, 

The  course  of  true  love  never  did  run  smool?   t 

Midsummer  Nighfs  £)ruim. 

The  celebrated  passage  which  we  have  prefixed  to  this  chap- 
ter has,  like  most  observations  of  the  same  author,  its  foun- 
dation in  real  experience.  The  period  at  which  love  is 
formed  for  the  first  time,  and  felt  most  strongly,  is  seldom 
that  at  which  there  is  much  prospect  of  its  being  brought  to 
a  happy  issue.  The  state  of  artificial  society  opposes  many 
complicated  obstructions  to  early  marriages  ;  and  the  chance 
is  very  great  that  such  obstacles  prove  insurmountable.  In 
fine,  there  are  few  men  who  do  not  look  back  in  secret  to 
some  period  of  their  youth  at  which  a  sincere  and  early 
affection  was  repulsed,  or  betrayed,  or  became  abortive  from 
opposing  circumstances.  It  is  these  little  passages  of  secret 
history  which  leave  a  tinge  of  romance  in  overy  bosom, 
scarce  permitting  us,  even  in  the  most  busy  or  the  most 
advanced  period  of  life,  to  listen  with  total  indifference  to 
a  tale  of  true  love. 

Julian  Peveril  had  so  fixed  his  affections  as  to  ensure  the 
fullest  share  of  that  opposition  which  early  attachments  are 
so  apt  to  encounter.  Yet  nothing  so  natural  as  that  he 
should  have  done  so.  In  early  youth,  Dame  Debbitch  had 
accidentally  met  with  the  son  of  her  first  patroness,  and  who 
had  himself  been  her  earliest  charge,  fishing  in  the  little 
brook  already  noticed,  which  watered  the  valley  in  which 
she  resided  with  Alice  Bridgenorth.  The  dame's  curiosity 
easily  discovered  who  he  was  ;  and  besides  the  interest  which 
persons  in  her  condition  usually  take  in  the  young  people 
who  have  been  under  their  charge,  she  was  delighted  with 
the  opportunity  to  talk  about  former  times — about  Martin- 
dale  Castle  and  friends  there,  about  Sir  Geoffrey  and  his 
good  lady,  and  now  and  then  about  Lance  Outram,  the 
park-keeper. 

The  mere  pleasure  of  gratifying  her  inquiries  would  scarce 
have  had  power  enough  to  induce  Julian  to  repeat  his  visits 
to  the  lonely  glen  ;  but  Deborah  had  a  companion — a  lovely 

124 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  125 

girl — bred  in  solitude,  and  in  the  quiet  and  unpretending 
tastes  which  solitude  encourages — spirited  also,  and  inquisi- 
tive, and  listening,  with  a  laughing  cheek  and  an  eager  eye, 
to  every  tale  which  the  young  angler  brought  from  the  town 
and  castle. 

The  visits  of  Julian  to  the  Black  Fort  were  only  occa- 
sional ;  so  far  Dame  Deborah  showed  common  sense,  which 
was,  perhaps,  inspired  by  the  apprehension  of  losing  her 
place,  in  case  of  discovery.  She  had,  indeed,  great  confi- 
dence in  the  strong  and  rooted  belief,  amounting  almost  to 
superstition,  which  Major  Bridgenorth  entertained,  that  his 
daughter's  continued  health  could  only  be  insured  by  her 
continuing  under  the  charge  of  one  who  had  acquired  Lady 
PeveriVs  supposed  skill  in  treating  those  subject  to  such 
ailments.  This  belief  Dame  Deborah  had  improved  to  the 
utmost  of  her  simple  cunning — always  speaking  in  something 
of  an  oracular  tone  upon  the  subject  of  her  charge's  health, 
and  hinting  at  certain  mysterious  rules  necessary  to  main- 
tain it  in  the  present  favorable  state.  She  had  availed  her- 
self of  this  artifice  to  procure  for  herself  and  Alice  a  sepa- 
rate establishment  at  the  Black  Fort ;  for  it  was  originally 
Major  Bridgenorth's  resolution  that  his  daughter  and  her 
governante  should  remain  under  the  same  roof  with  the 
sister-in-law  of  his  deceased  wife,  tlie  widow  of  the  unfortu- 
nate Colonel  Christian.  But  this  lady  was  broken  down 
with  premature  age,  brought  on  by  sorrow  ;  and,  in  a  short 
visit  which  Major  Bridgenorth  made  to  the  island,  he  was 
easily  prevailed  on  to  consider  her  house  at  Kirk-Truagh  as 
a  very  cheerless  residence  for  his  daughter.  Dame  Deborah, 
who  longed  for  domestic  independence,  was  careful  to  in- 
crease this  impression  by  alarming  her  patron's  fears  on  ac- 
count of  Alice's  health.  The  mansion  of  Kirk-Truagh  stood, 
she  said,  much  exposed  to  the  Scottish  winds,  which  could 
not  but  be  cold,  as  they  came  from  a  country  where,  as  she 
was  assured,  there  was  ice  and  snow  at  midsummer.  In 
short,  she  prevailed,  and  was  put  into  full  possession  of  the 
Black  Fort — a  house  which,  as  well  as  Kirk-Truagh,  be- 
longed formerly  to  Christian,  and  now  to  his  widow. 

Still,  however,  it  was  enjoined  on  the  governante  and  her 
charge  to  visit  Kirk-Truagh  from  time  to  time,  and  to  con- 
sider themselves  as  under  the  management  and  guardianship 
of  Mistress  Christian — a  state  of  subjection  the  sense  of 
which  Deborah  endeavored  to  lessen  by  assuming  as  much 
freedom  of  conduct  as  she  possibly  dared,  under  the  influ- 
ence, doubtless,  of  the  same  feelings  of  independence  which 


126  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

induced  her,  at  Martindale  Castle,  to  spurn  the  advice  of 
Mistress  Ellesmere. 

It  was  this  generous  disposition  to  defy  control  which  in- 
duced her  to  procure  for  Alice,  secretly,  some  means  of 
education,  which  the  stern  genius  of  Puritanism  would  have 
proscribed.  She  ventured  to  have  her  charge  taught  music 
— nay,  even  dancing  ;  and  the  picture  of  the  austere  Colonel 
Christian  trembled  on  the  wainscot  where  it  was  suspended 
while  the  sylph-like  form  of  Alice,  and  the  substantial  person 
of  Dame  Deborah,  executed  French  chaussees  and  horees,  to 
the  sound  of  a  small  kit,  which  screamed  under  the  bow  of 
Monsieur  de  Pigal,  half  smuggler,  half  dancing-master. 
This  abomination  reached  the  ears  of  the  colonel's  widow, 
and  by  her  was  communicated  to  Bridgenorth,  whose  sudden 
appearance  in  the  island  showed  the  importance  he  attached 
to  the  communication.  Had  she  been  faithless  to  her  own 
cause,  that  had  been  the  latest  hour  of  Mistress  Deborah's 
administration.     But  she  retreated  into  her  stronghold. 

'*  Dancing,'^  she  said,  '^  was  exercise,  regulated  and  timed 
by  music  ;  and  it  stood  to  reason  that  it  must  be  the  best  of 
all  exercise  for  a  delicate  person,  especially  as  it  could  be 
taken  within  doors,  and  in  all  states  of  the  weather.'"' 

Bridgenorth  listened,  with  a  clouded  and  thoughtful  brow, 
when,  in  exemplification  of  her  doctrine.  Mistress  Deborah, 
who  was  no  contemptible  performer  on  the  viol,  began  to 
jangle  Sellenger's  round,  and  desired  Alice  to  dance  an  old 
English  measure  to  the  tune.  As  the  half-bashful,  half- 
smiling  girl,  about  fourteen — for  such  was  her  age — moved 
gracefully  to  the  music,  the  father's  eye  unavoidably  followed 
the  light  spring  of  her  step,  and  marked  with  joy  the  rising 
color  in  her  cheek.  When  the  dance  was  over,  he  folded 
her  in  his  arms,  smoothed  her  somewhat  disordered  locks 
with  a  father's  affectionate  hand,  smiled,  kissed  her  brow, 
and  took  his  leave,  without  one  single  word  farther  inter- 
dicting the  exercise  of  dancing.  He  did  not  himself  com- 
municate the  result  of  his  visit  at  the  Black  Fort  to  Mistress 
Christian,  but  she  was  not  long  of  learning  it,  by  the  triumph 
of  Dame  Deborah  on  her  next  visit. 

"  It  is  well,"  said  the  stern  old  lady  ;  "  my  brother  Bridge- 
north  hath  permitted  you  to  make  a  Herodias  of  Alice,  and 
teach  her  dancing.  You  have  only  now  to  find  her  a  partner 
for  life  ;  I  shall  neither  meddle  nor  make  more  in  their  affairs." 

In  fact,  the  triumph  of  Dame  Deborah,  or  rather  of  Dame 
Nature,  on  this  occasion,  had  more  important  effects  than 
the  former  b»d  ventured  fo  anticipate  ;  for  Mistress  Chris- 


PEVEBIL  OF  tBE  PEAR  1^ 

tian,  though  she  received  with  all  formality  the  formal  visits 
of  the  governante  and  her  charge,  seemed  thenceforth  so 
pettish  with  the  issue  of  her  remonstrance  upon  the  enormity 
of  her  niece  dancing  to  a  little  fiddle,  that  she  appeared  to 
give  up  interference  in  her  affairs,  and  left  Dame  Debbitch 
and  Alice  to  manage  both  education  and  housekeeping — in 
which  she  had  hitherto  greatly  concerned  herself — much 
after  their  own  pleasure. 

It  was  in  this  independent  state  that  they  lived,  when 
Julian  first  visited  their  habitation  ;  and  he  was  the  rather 
encouraged  to  do  so  by  Dame  Deborah,  that  she  believeC 
him  to  be  one  of  the  last  persons  in  the  world  with  whom 
Mistress  Christian  would  have  desired  her  niece  to  be  ac- 
quainted— the  happy  spirit  of  contradiction  superseding, 
with  Dame  Deborah,  on  this  as  on  other  occasions,  all  con- 
sideration of  the  fitness  of  things.  She  did  not  act  altogether 
without  precaution  neither.  She  was  aware  she  had  to 
guard  not  only  against  any  reviving  interest  or  curiosity  on 
the  part  of  Mistress  Christian,  but  against  the  sudden  arrival 
of  Major  Bridgenorth,  who  never  failed  once  in  the  year  to 
make  his  appearance  at  the  Black  Fort  when  least  expected, 
and  to  remain  there  for  a  few  days.  Dame  Debbitch,  there- 
fore, exacted  of  Julian  that  his  visits  should  be  few  and  far 
between  ;  that  he  should  condescend  to  pass  for  a  relation 
of  her  own,  in  the  eyes  of  two  ignorant  Manx  girls  and  a 
lad,  who  formed  her  establishment ;  and  that  he  should 
always  appear  in  his  angler's  dress  made  of  the  simple  loug- 
than,  or  buff-colored  wool  of  the  island,  which  is  not  sub- 
jected to  dyeing.  By  these  cautions,  she  thought  his 
intimacy  at  the  Black  Fort  would  be  entirely  unnoticed,  or 
considered  as  immaterial,  while,  in  the  meantime,  it  furnished 
much  amusement  to  her  charge  and  herself. 

This  was  accordingly  the  case  during  the  earlier  part  of 
their  intercourse,  while  Julian  was  a  lad  and  Alice  a  girl  two 
or  three  years  younger.  But  as  the  lad  shot  up  to  youth 
and  the  girl  to  womanhood,  even  Dame  Deborah  Debbitch's 
judgment  saw  danger  in  their  continued  intimacy.  She 
took  an  opportunity  to  communicate  to  Julian  who  Miss 
Bridgenorth  actually  was,  and  the  peculiar  circumstances 
which  placed  discord  between  their  fathers.  He  heard  the 
story  of  their  quarrel  with  interest  and  surprise,  for  he  had 
only  resided  occasionally  at  Martindale  Castle,  and  tlie 
subject  of  Bridgenorth's  quarrel  with  his  father  had  iievei 
been  mentioned  in  his  presence.  His  imagination  caught 
fire  at  the  sparks  afforded  by  this  singular  story  ;  and,  far 


128  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

from  complying  with  the  prudent  remonstrance  of  Dame 
Deborah,  and  gradually  estranging  himself  from  the  Black 
Fort  and  its  fair  inmate,  he  frankly  declared,  he  considered 
his  intimacy  there,  so  casually  commenced,  as  intimating 
the  will  of  Heaven  that  Alice  and  he  were  designed  for  each 
other,  in  spite  of  every  obstacle  which  passion  or  prejudice 
could  raise  up  betwixt  them.  They  had  been  companions 
in  infancy  ;  and  a  little  exertion  of  memory  enabled  him  to 
recall  his  childish  grief  for  the  unexpected  and  sudden  disap- 
pearance of  his  little  companion,  whom  he  was  destined 
again  to  meet  with  in  the  early  bloom  of  opening  beauty,  in 
a  country  which  was  foreign  to  them  both. 

Dame  Deborah  was  confounded  at  the  consequences  of  her 
communication,  which  had  thus  blown  into  a  flame  the 
passion  which  she  hoped  it  would  have  either  prevented  or 
extinguished.  She  had  not  the  sort  of  head  which  resists 
the  masculine  and  energetic  remonstrances  of  passionate 
attachment,  whether  addressed  to  her  on  her  own  account  or 
on  behalf  of  another.  She  lamented  and  wondered,  and 
ended  her  feeble  opposition  by  weeping,  and  sympathizing, 
and  consenting  to  allow  the  continuance  of  Julianas  visits, 
provided  he  should  only  address  himself  to  Alice  as  a  friend  ; 
to  gain  the  world,  she  would  consent  to  nothing  more.  She 
was  not,  however,  so  simple,  bat  that  she  also  had  her  fore- 
bodings of  the  designs  of  Providence  on  this  youthful  couple  ; 
for  certainly  they  could  not  be  more  formed  to  be  united 
than  the  good  estates  of  Martindale  and  Moultrassie. 

Then  came  along  sequence  of  reflections.  Martindale 
Castle  wanted  but  some  repairs  to  be  almost  equal  to  Chats- 
worth.  The  hall  might  be  allowed  to  go  to  ruin  ;  or,  what 
would  be  better,  when  Sir  Geoffrey's  time  came,  for  the  good 
kniglit  had  seen  service,  and  must  be  brea,king  now,  the  hall 
would  be  a  good  dowery-house,  to  which  my  lady  and  Elles- 
mere  might  retreat  ;  while,  empress  of  the  still-room  and 
queen  of  the  pantry.  Mistress  Deborah  Debbitch  should  reign 
housekeeper  at  the  castle,  and  extend,  perhaps,  the  crown- 
matrimonial  to  Lance  Outram,  provided  he  was  not  become 
too  old,  too  fat,  or  too  fond  of  ale. 

Such  were  the  soothing  visions  under  the  influence  of  which 
the  dame  connived  at  an  attachment  which  lulled  also  to 
pleasing  dreams,  though  of  a  character  so  different,  her 
charge  and  her  visitant. 

The  visits  of  the  young  angler  became  more  and  more  fre- 
quent ;  and  the  embarrassed  Deborah,  though  foreseeiag  all 
the  dangers  of  discovery,  and  the  additional  risk  of  an  ex- 


PWeeil  of  the  PEAk  1^ 

planation  betwixt  Alice  and  Julian,  which  must  necessarily 
render  their  relative  situation  so  much  more  delicate,  feh 
completely  overborne  by  the  enthusiasm  of  the  young  lover, 
and  was  compelled  to  let  matters  take  their  course. 

The  departure  of  Julian  for  the  Continent  interrupted  the 
course  of  his  intimacy  at  the  Black  Fort,  and  while  it  relieved 
the  elder  of  its  inmates  from  much  internal  apprehension, 
spread  an  air  of  languor  and  dejection  over  the  countenance 
of  the  younger,  which,  at  Bridgenorth's  next  visit  to  the  Isle 
of  Man,  renewed  all  his  terrors  for  his  daughter's  constitu- 
tional malady. 

Deborah  promised  faithfully  she  should  look  better  the 
next  morning,  and  she  kept  her  word.  She  had  retained  in 
her  possession  for  some  time  a  letter  which  Julian  had,  by 
gome  private  conveyance,  sent  to  her  charge,  for  his  youthful 
friend.  Deborah  had  dreaded  the  consequences  of  delivering 
it  as  a  billet-doux,  but,  as  in  the  case  of  the  dance,  she  thought 
there  could  be  no  harm  in  administering  it  as  a  remedy. 

It  had  complete  effect :  and  next  day  the  cheeks  of  the 
maiden  had  a  tinge  of  the  rose,  which  so  much  delighted  her 
father,  that,  as  he  mounted  his  horse,  he  flung  his  purse  into 
Deborah's  hand,  with  the  desire  she  should  spare  nothing 
that  could  make  herself  and  his  daughter  happy,  and  the 
assurance  that  she  had  his  full  confidence. 

This  expression  of  liberality  and  trust  from  a  man  of  Major 
Bridgenorth's  reserved  and  cautious  disposition  gave  full 
plumage  to  Mistress  Deborah's  hopes ;  and  emboldened  her 
not  only  to  deliver  another  letter  of  Julian's  to  the  young 
lady,  but  to  encourage  more  boldly  and  freely  than  formerly 
the  intercourse  of  the  lovers  when  Peveril  returned  from 
abroad. 

At  length,  in  spite  of  all  Julian's  precaution,  the  young 
earl  became  suspicious  of  his  frequent  solitary  fishing-parties  ; 
and  he  himself,  now  better  acquainted  with  the  world  than 
formerly,  became  aware  that  his  repeated  visits  and  solitary 
walks  with  a  person  so  young  and  beautiful  as  Alice  might 
not  only  betray  prematurely  the  secret  of  his  attachment, 
but  be  of  essential  prejudice  to  her  who  was  its  object. 

Under  the  influence  of  this  conviction,  he  abstained,  for 
an  unusual  period,  from  visiting  the  Black  Fort.  But 
when  he  next  indulged  himself  with  spending  an  hour  in 
the  place  where  he  would  gladly  have  abode  forever,  the 
altered  manner  of  Alice,  the  tone  in  which  she  seemed  to 
upbraid  his  neglect,  penetrated  his  heart,  and  deprived  him  of 
that  power  of  self-command  which  he  had  hitherto  exercised 


130  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

in  their  interviews.  It  required  but  a  few  energetic  words  to 
explain  to  Alice  at  once  his  feelings  and  to  make  her  sensi- 
ble of  the  real  nature  of  her  own.  She  wept  plentifully, 
but  her  tears  were  not  all  of  bitterness.  She  sat  passively 
still,  and  without  reply,  while  he  explained  to  her,  with 
many  an  interjection,  the  circumstances  which  had  placed 
discord  between  their  families  ;  for  hitherto  all  that  she  had 
known  was  that  Master  Peveril,  belonging  to  the  household 
of  the  great  Countess  or  Lady  of  Man,  must  observe  some 
precautions  in  visiting  a  relative  of  the  unhappy  Colonel 
Christian.  But,  when  Julian  concluded  his  tale  with  the 
warmest  protestations  of  eternal  love,  ''My  poor  father  \'* 
she  burst  forth,  *'  and  was  this  to  be  the  end  of  all  thy 
precautions  ?  This,  that  the  son  of  him  that  disgraced 
and  banished  thee  should  hold  such  language  to  your 
daughter  \" 

*' You  err,  Alice — you  err,"  cried  Julian,  eagerly.  ''  That 
I  hold  this  language — that  the  son  of  Peveril  addresses  thus 
the  daughter  of  your  father — that  he  thus  kneels  to  you  for 
forgiveness  of  injuries  which  passed  when  we  were  both  in- 
fants, shows  the  will  of  Heaven  that  in  our  affection  should 
be  quenched  the  discord  of  our  parents.  What  else  could 
lead  those  who  parted  infants  on  the  hills  of  Derbyshire  to 
meet  thus  in  the  valleys  of  Man  ?  " 

Alice,  however  new  such  a  scene,  and,  above  all,  her  own 
emotions,  might  be,  was  highly  endowed  with  that  exquisite 
delicacy  which  is  imprinted  in  the  female  heart,  to  give  warn- 
ing of  the  slightest  approach  to  impropriety  in  a  situation 
like  hers. 

"  Rise — rise.  Master  Peveril," she  said  ;  "do  not  do  your- 
self and  me  this  injustice  ;  we  have  done  both  wrong — very 
wrong  ;  but  my  fault  was  done  in  ignorance.  0  God  !  my 
poor  father,  who  needs  comfort  so  much — is  it  for  me  to  add 
to  his  misfortunes  ?  Rise  !"  she  added,  more  firmly  ;  ''if 
you  retain  this  unbecoming  posture  any  longer,  I  will  leave 
the  room,  and  you  shall  never  see  me  more." 

The  commanding  tone  of  Alice  overawed  the  impetuosity 
of  her  lover,  who  took  in  silence  a  seat  removed  to  some  dis- 
tance from  hers,  and  was  again  about  to  speak.  "  Julian," 
she  said,  in  a  milder  tone,  "you  have  spoken  enough,  and 
more  than  enough.  Would  you  had  left  me  in  the  pleasing 
dream  in  which  I  could  have  listened  to  you  forever  !  but 
the  hour  of  wakening  is  arrived."  Peveril  waited  the  prose- 
cution of  her  speech  as  a  criminal  while  he  waits  his  doom  ; 
ior  he  was  sufficiently  sensible  that  an  answer,  delivered  not 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  181 

certainly  without  emotion,  but  with  firmness  and  resolution, 
was  not  to  be  interrupted.  '*  We  have  done  wrong,"  she 
repeated — ''  very  wrong  ;  and  if  we  now  separate  forever, 
the  pain  we  may  feel  will  be  but  a  just  penalty  for  our  error. 
We  should  never  have  met.  Meeting,  we  should  part  as  soon 
as  possible.  Our  farther  intercourse  can  but  double  our  pain 
at  parting.  Farewell,  Julian  ;  and  forget  we  ever  have  seen 
each  other  ! " 

"Forget!"  said  Julian;  "never — never.  To  you  it  is 
easy  to  speak  the  word — to  think  the  thought.  To  me,  an 
approach  to  either  can  only  be  by  utter  destruction.  Why 
should  you  doubt  that  the  feud  of  our  fathers,  like  so  many 
of  which  we  have  heard,  might  be  appeased  by  our  friend- 
ship ?  You  are  my  only  friend.  I  am  the  only  one  whom 
Heaven  has  assigned  to  you.  Why  should  we  separate  for 
the  fault  of  others,  which  befell  when  we  were  but  chil- 
dren?" 

"  You  speak  in  vain,  Julian,"  said  Alice.  "  I  pity  you  ; 
perhaps  I  pity  myself.  Indeed,  I  should  pity  myself,  per 
haps,  the  most  of  the  two  ;  for  you  will  go  forth  to  new 
scenes  and  new  faces,  and  will  soon  forget  me ;  but  I,  re- 
maining in  this  solitude,  how  shall  /  forget  ?  That,  how- 
ever, is  not  now  the  question.  I  can  bear  my  lot,  and  it 
commands  us  to  part." 

"  Hear  me  yet  a  moment,"  said  Peveril ;  "  this  evil  is  not, 
cannot  be,  remediless.  I  will  go  to  my  father — I  will  use 
the  intercession  of  my  mother,  to  whom  he  can  refuse  noth- 
ing— I  will  gain  their  consent — they  have  no  other  child — 
and  they  must  consent,  or  lose  him  forever.  Say,  Alice,  if  I 
come  to  you  with  my  parents'  consent  to  my  suit,  will  you 
again  say,  with  that  tone  so  touching  and  so  sad,  yet  so  in- 
credibly determined — 'Julian,  we  must  part?'"  Alice 
was  silent.  "  Cruel  girl,  will  you  not  even  deign  to  answer 
me  ?  "  said  her  lover. 

"We  answer  not  those  who  speak  in  their  dreams,"  said 
Alice.  "You  ask  me  what  I  would  do  were  impossibilities 
performed.  What  right  have  you  to  make  such  suppositions, 
and  ask  such  a  question  ?  " 

"Hope,  Alice — hope,"  answered  Julian,  "the  last  sup- 
port of  the  wretched,  which  even  you  surely  would  not  be 
cruel  enough  to  deprive  me  of.  In  every  difficulty,  in  every 
doubt,  in  every  danger,  Hope  will  fight  even  if  he  cannot 
conquer.  Tell  me  once  more,  if  I  come  to  you  in  the  name 
of  my  father — in  the  name  of  that  mother  to  whom  you  partly 
owe  your  life — what  would  you  answer  to  me  ?  " 


132  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''I  would  refer  you  to  my  own  father,"  said  Alice,  blush- 
ing, and  casting  her  eyes  down  ;  but  instantly  raising  them 
again,  she  repeated,  in  a  firmer  and  a  sadder  tone — '^yes, 
Julian,  I  would  refer  you  to  my  father  ;  and  you  would  find 
that  your  pilot,  Hope,  had  deceived  you,  and  that  you  had 
but  escaped  the  quicksands  to  fall  upon  the  rocks." 

'^  I  would  that  could  be  tried  !  "  said  Julian.  "  Methinks 
I  could  persuade  your  father  that  in  ordinary  eyes  our  ajli- 
ance  is  not  undesirable.  My  family  have  fortune,  rank, 
long  descent — all  that  fathers  look  for  when  fchey  bestow  a 
daughtcr-'s  hand." 

^'  All  this  would  avail  you  nothing,"  said  Alice.  '^The 
spirit  of  my  father  is  bent  upon  the  things  of  another  world  ; 
and  if  he  listened  to  hear  you  out,  it  would  be  but  to  tell 
you   that  he  spurned  your  offers." 

^^  You  know  not — you  know  not,  Alice,"  said  Julian. 
''  Fire  can  soften  iron  :  thy  father^s  heart  cannot  be  so  hard, 
or  his  prejudices  so  strong,  but  I  shall  find  some  means  to 
melt  him.  Forbid  me  not — 0  forbid  me  not  at  least  the 
experiment ! " 

'*  I  can  but  advise,"  said  Alice ;  ''  I  can  forbid  you 
nothing  ;  for  to  forbid  implies  power  to  command  obedience. 
But  if  you  will  be  wise  and  listen  to  me — here,  and  on  this 
spot,  we  part  forever  ! " 

"  Not  so,  by  Heaven  !  "  said  Julian,  whose  bold  and  san- 
guine temper  scarce  saw  difficulty  in  attaining  aught  which  he 
desired.  "  We  now  part  indeed,  but  it  is  that  I  may  return 
armed  with  my  parent's  consent.  They  desire  that  I  should 
marry — in  their  last  letters  they  pressed  it  more  openly — they 
shall  have  their  desire  ;  and  such  a  bride  as  I  will  present  to 
them  has  not  graced  their  house  since  the  Conqueror  gave  it 
origin.     Farewell,  Alice  ! — farewell,  for  a  brief  space  !  " 

She  replied,  "  Farewell,  Julian  ! — farewell  forever  ! " 

Julian,  within  a  week  of  this  interview,  was  at  Martindale 
Castle,  with  the  view  of  communicating  his  purpose.  But 
the  task  which  seems  easy  at  a  distance  proves  as  difficult 
upon  a  nearer  approach  as  the  fording  of  a  river  which  from 
afar  appeared  only  a  brook.  There  lacked  not  opportunities 
of  entering  upon  the  subject ;  for,  in  the  first  ride  which  he 
took  with  his  father,  the  knight  resumed  the  subject  of  his 
son's  marriage,  and  liberally  left  the  lady  to  his  choice  ;  but 
under  the  strict  proviso,  that  she  was  of  a  loyal  and  an 
honorable  family  ;  if  she  had  fortune,  it  was  good  and  well, 
or  rather,  it  was  better  than  well ;  but  if  she  was  poor,  wh}^ 
"There  is  still  some  picking,"  said  Sir  Geoff rey,  *' on  the 


PKVERIL  OF  THE  PEAS:  138 

bones  of  the  old  estate  ;  and  Dame  Margaret  and  I  will  be 
content  with  the  less,  that  you  young  folks  may  have  your 
share  of  it.  I  am  turned  frugal  already,  Julian.  You  see 
what  a  north-country  shambling  bit  of  a  Galloway  nag  I  ride 
upon- — a  different  beast,  I  wot,  from  my  own  old  Black 
Hastings,  who  had  but  one  fault,  and  that  was  his  wish  to 
turn  down  Moultrassie  avenue/' 

"  Was  that  so  great  a  fault  ?  "  said  Julian,  affecting  indif- 
ference, while  his  heart  was  trembling,  as  it  seemed  to  him, 
almost  in  his  very  throat. 

'^It  used  to  remind  me  of  that  base,  dishonorable  Presby- 
terian fellow,  Bridgenorth,''  said  Sir  Geoffrey  ;  and  I  would 
as  lief  think  of  a  toad.  They  say  he  has  turned  Independ- 
ent, to  accomplish  the  full  degree  of  rascality.  I  tell  you, 
Gil,  I  turned  off  the  cow-boy  for  gathering  nuts  in  his  woods. 
I  would  hang  a  dog  that  would  so  much  as  kill  a  hare  there. 
But  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?     You  look  pale." 

Julian  made  some  indifferent  answer,  but  too  well  under- 
stood, from  the  language  and  tone  which  his  father  used, 
that  his  prejudices  against  Alice's  father,  were  both  deep 
and  envenomed,  as  those  of  country  gentlemen  often  become, 
who,  having  little  to  do  or  think  of,  are  but  too  apt  to  spend 
their  time  in  nursing  and  cherishing  petty  causes  of  wrath 
against  their  next  neighbors. 

In  the  course  of  the  same  day,  he  mentioned  the  Bridge- 
norths  to  his  mother,  as  if  in  a  casual  manner.  But  the 
Lady  Peveril  instantly  conjured  him  never  to  mention  the 
name,  especially  in  his  father's  presence. 

"  Was  that  Major  Bridgenorth,  of  whom  I  have  heard  the 
name  mentioned,"  said  Julian,  *^so  very  bad  a  neighbor  ?" 

''  I  do  not  say  so,"  said  Lady  Peveril ;  ''  nay,  we  were  more 
than  once  obliged  to  him,  in  the  former  unhappy  times ; 
but  your  father  and  he  took  some  passages  so  ill  at  each 
other's  hands,  that  the  least  allusion  to  him  disturbs  Sir 
Geoffrey's  temper  in  a  manner  quite  unusual,  and  which, 
now  that  his  health  is  somewhat  impaired,  is  sometimes 
alarming  to  me.  For  Heaven's  sake,  then,  my  dear  Julian, 
avoid  upon  all  occasions  the  slightest  allusion  to  Moultrassie 
or  any  of  its  inhabitants." 

This  warning  was  so  seriously  given,  that  Julian  himself 
saw  that  mentioning  his  secret  purpose  would  be  the  sure 
way  to  render  it  abortive,  and  therefore  he  returned  discon- 
solate to  the  isle. 

Peveril  had  the  boldness,  however,  to  make  the  best  he 
could  of  what  had  happened,  by  requesting  an  interview  with 


134  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Alice,  in  order  to  inform  her  what  had  passed  betwixt  his 
parents  and  him  on  her  account.  It  was  with  great  difl&culty 
that  this  boon  was  obtained  ;  and  Alice  Bridgenorth  showed 
no  slight  degree  of  displeasure  when  she  discovered,  after 
much  circumlocution,  and  many  efforts  to  give  an  air  of  im- 
portance to  what  he  had  to  communicate,  that  all  amounted 
but  to  this,  that  Lady  Peveril  continued  to  retain  a  favorable 
opinion  of  her  father.  Major  Bridgenorth,  which  Julian 
would  fain  have  represented  as  an  omen  of  their  future  more 
perfect  reconciliation. 

^'  I  did  not  think  you  would  thus  have  trifled  with  me> 
Master  Peveril,'*  said  Alice,  assuming  an  air  of  dignity  ; 
'^  but  I  will  take  care  to  avoid  such  intrusion  in  future.  I 
request  you  will  not  again  visit  the  Black  Fort ;  and  I  en- 
treat of  you,  good  Mistress  Debbitch,  that  you  will  no  longer 
either  encourage  or  permit  this  gentleman's  visits,  as  the  re- 
sult of  such  persecution  will  be  to  compel  me  to  appeal  to 
my  aunt  and  father  for  another  place  of  residence,  and  per- 
haps also  for  another  and  more  prudent  companion.'' 

This  last  hint  struck  Mistress  Deborah  with  so  much  ter- 
ror, that  she  joined  her  ward  in  requiring  and  demanding 
Julian's  instant  absence,  and  he  was  obliged  to  comply  with 
their  request.  But  the  courage  of  a  youthful  lover  is  not 
easily  subdued  ;  and  Julian,  after  having  gone  through  the 
usual  round  of  trying  to  forget  his  ungrateful  mistress,  and 
again  entertaining  his  passion  with  augmented  violence, 
ended  by  the  visit  to  the  Black  Fort  the  beginning  of  which 
we  narrated  in  the  last  chapter. 

We  then  left  him  anxious  for,  yet  almost  fearful  of,  an 
interview  with  Alice,  which  he  had  prevailed  upon  Deborah 
to  solicit ;  and  such  was  the  tumult  of  his  mind,  that,  while 
he  traversed  the  parlor,  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  dark,  mel- 
ancholy eyes  of  the  slaughtered  Christian's  portrait  followed 
him  wherever  he  went,  with  the  fixed,  chill,  and  ominous 
glance  which  announced  to  the  enemy  of  his  race  mishap 
and  misfortune. 

The  door  of  the  apartment  opened  at  length,  and  these 
visions  were  dissipated. 


CHAPTER  Xm 

Parents  have  flinty  hearts  !    No  tears  can  move  them. 

Otway. 

When"  Alice  Bridgenorth  at  length  entered  the  parlor  where 
her  anxious  lover  had  so  long  expected  her,  it  was  with  a  slow 
step  and  a  composed  manner.  Her  dress  was  arranged  with 
an  accurate  attention  to  form,  which  at  once  enhanced  the 
appearance  of  its  Puritanic  simplicity  and  struck  Julian  as  a 
bad  omen  ;  for  although  the  time  bestowed  upon  the  toilet 
may,  in  many  cases,  intimate  the  wish  to  appear  advantage- 
ously at  such  an  interview,  yet  a  ceremonious  arrangement 
of  attire  is  very  much  allied  with  formality,  and  a  precon- 
ceived determination  to  treat  a  lover  with  cold  politeness. 

The  sad-colored  gown,  the  pinched  and  plaited  cap,  which 
carefully  obscured  the  profusion  of  long  dark-brown  hair, 
the  small  ruff,  and  the  long  sleeves,  would  have  appeared  to 
great  disadvantage  on  a  shape  less  graceful  than  Alice  Bridge- 
north's  ;  but  an  exquisite  form,  though  not,  as  yet,  suffi- 
ciently rounded  in  the  outlines  to  produce  the  perfection  of 
female  beauty,  was  able  to  sustain  and  give  grace  even  to 
this  unbecoming  dress.  Her  countenance,  fair  and  delicate, 
with  eyes  of  hazel  [blue],  and  a  brow  of  alabaster,  had,  not- 
withstanding, less  regular  beauty  than  her  form,  and  might 
have  been  Justly  subjected  to  criticism.  There  was,  how- 
ever, a  life  and  spirit  in  her  gaiety,  and  a  depth  of  sentiment 
in  her  gravity,  which  made  Alice,  in  conversation  with  the 
very  few  persons  with  whom  she  associated,  so  fascinating  in 
her  manners  and  expression,  whether  of  language  or  counte- 
nance, so  touching  also  in  her  simplicity  and  purity  of 
thought,  that  brighter  beauties  might  have  been  overlooked 
in  her  company.  It  was  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  an  ardent 
character  like  Julian,  influenced  by  these  charms,  as  well  as 
by  the  secrecy  and  mystery  attending  his  intercourse  with. 
Alice,  should  prefer  the  recluse  of  the  Black  Fort  to  all 
others  with  whom  he  had  become  acquainted  in  general 
society. 

His  heart  beat  high  as  she  came  into  the  apartment,  and 
it  was  almost  without  an  attempt  to  speak  that  his  profound 
pbeis9.nce  acknowledged  £er  entrance. 


136  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

''  This  is  a  mockery,  Master  Peveril/'  said  Alice,  with  an 
effort  to  speak  firmly,  which  yet  was  disconcerted  by  a  slightly 
tremulous  inflection  of  voice — ^^  a  mockery,  and  a  cruel  one. 
You  come  to  this  lone  place,  inhabited  only  by  two  women, 
too  simple  to  command  your  absence,  too  weak  to  enforce 
it ;  you  come  in  spite  of  my  earnest  request,  to  the  neglect 
of  your  own  time,  to  the  prejudice,  I  may  fear,  of  my  char- 
acter ;  you  abuse  the  influence  you  possess  over  the  simple 
person  to  whom  I  am  entrusted — all  this  you  do,  and  think 
to  make  it  up  by  low  reverences  and  constrained  courtesy  ! 
Is  this  honorable,  or  is  it  fair  ?  Is  it,''  she  added,  after  a 
moment's  hesitation — '^  is  it  kind  ?  " 

The  tremulous  accent  fell  especially  on  the  last  word  she 
uttered,  and  it  was  spoken  in  a  low  tone  of  gentle  reproach, 
which  went  to  Julian's  heart. 

^'  If,"  said  he,  '^  there  were  a  mode  by  which,  at  the  peril 
of  my  life,  Alice,  I  could  show  my  regard — my  respect — my 
devoted  tenderness — the  danger  would  be  dearer  to  me  than 
ever  was  pleasure." 

^'  You  have  said  such  things  often,"  said  Alice,  ''  and  they 
are  such  as  I  ought  not  to  hear,  and  do  not  desire  to  hear. 
I  have  no  tasks  to  impose  on  you — no  enemies  to  be  destroyed 
— no  need  or  desire  of  protection — no  wish.  Heaven  knows, 
to  expose  you  to  danger.  It  is  your  visits  here  alone  to  which 
danger  attaches.  You  have  but  to  rule  your  own  wilful 
temper — to  turn  your  thoughts  and  your  cares  elsewhere, 
and  I  can  have  nothing  to  ask — nothing  to  wish  for.  Use 
your  own  reason — consider  the  injury  you  do  yourself: — the 
injustice  you  do  us — and  let  me,  once  more,  in  fair  terms, 
entreat  you  to  absent  yourself  from  this  place — till — till ^" 

She  paused,  and  Julian  eagerly  interrupted  her.  ^^  Till 
when,  Alice  ? — till  when  ?  Impose  on  me  any  length  of 
absence  which  your  severity  can  inflict,  short  of  a  final  sep- 
aration. Say,  '  Begone  for  years,  but  return  when  these 
years  are  over';  and,  slow  and  wearily  as  they  must  pass 
away,  still  the  thought  that  they  must  at  length  have  their 
period  will  enable  me  to  live  through  them.  Let  me,  then, 
conjure  thee,  Alice,  to  name  a  date — to  fix  a  term — to  say 
till  when!" 

'^  Till  you  can  bear  to  think  of  me  only  as  a  friend  and 
sister.  ^^ 

"  That  is  a  sentence  of  eternal  banishment  indeed  !  "  said 
Julian  ;  '^  it  is  seeming,  no  doubt,  to  fix  a  term  of  exile,  but 
attaching  to  it  an  impossible  condition." 

"And  why  impossible,  Julian  ?"  said  Alice,  in  a  tone  of 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  187 

persuasion.  '*  Were  we  not  happier  ere  you  threw  the  mask 
from  your  own  countenance,  and  tore  the  veil  from  my  foolish 
eyes  ?  Did  we  not  meet  with  joy,  spend  our  time  happily, 
and  part  cheerily,  because  we  transgressed  no  duty,  and 
incurred  no  self-reproach  ?  Bring  back  that  state  of  happy 
ignorance,  and  you  shall  have  no  reason  to  call  me  unkind. 
But  while  you  form  schemes  which  I  know  to  be  visionary, 
and  use  language  of  such  violence  and  passion,  you  shall  ex- 
cuse me  if  I  now,  and  once  for  all,  declare  that,  since  Deb- 
orah shows  herself  unfit  for  the  trust  reposed  in  her,  and 
must  needs  expose  me  to  persecutions  of  this  nature,  I  will 
write  to  my  father,  that  he  may  fix  me  another  place  of 
residence  ;  and  in  the  meanwhile  I  will  take  shelter  with  my 
aunt  at  Kirk-Truagh." 

'^  Hear  me,  unpitying  girl,''  said  Peveril — '^  hear  me,  and 
you  shall  see  how  devoted  I  am  to  obedience  in  all  that  I 
can  do  to  oblige  you  !  You  say  you  were  happy  when  we 
spoke  not  on  such  topics — well,  at  all  expense  of  my  own 
suppressed  feelings,  that  happy  period  shall  return.  I  will 
meet  you — walk  with  you — read  with  you — but  only  as  a 
brother  would  with  his  sister  or  a  friend  with  his  friend ; 
the  thoughts  I  may  nourish,  be  they  of  hope  or  of  despair, 
my  tongue  shall  not  give  birth  to,  and  therefore  I  cannot 
offend  ;  Deborah  shall  be  ever  by  your  side,  and  her  presence 
shall  prevent  my  even  hinting  at  what  might  displease  you — 
only  do  not  make  a  crime  to  me  of  those  thoughts  which  are 
the  dearest  part  of  my  existence  ;  for,  believe  me,  it  were 
better  and  kinder  to  rob  me  of  existence  itself.'' 

"  This  is  the  mere  ecstasy  of  passion,  Julian,"  answered 
Alice  Bridgenorth  ;  "that  which  is  unpleasant,  our  selfish 
and  stubborn  will  represents  as  impossible.  I  have  no  con- 
fidence in  the  plan  you  propose — no  confidence  in  your 
resolution,  and  less  than  none  in  the  protection  of  Deborah. 
Till  you  can  renounce,  honestly  and  explicitly,  the  wishes 
you  have  lately  expressed,  we  must  be  strangers  ;  and  could 
yon  renounce  them  even  at  this  moment,  it  were  better  that 
we  should  part  for  a  long  time  ;  and,  for  Heaven's  sake,  let 
it  be  as  soon  as  possible  ;  perhaps  it  is  even  now  too  late  to 
prevent  some  unpleasant  accident — I  thought  I  heard  a  noise." 

"  It  was  Deborah,"  answered  Julian.  "  Be  not  afraid, 
Alice.;  we  are  secure  against  surprise." 

"  I  know  not,"  said  Alice,  "  what  you  mean  by  such  se- 
curity. I  have  nothing  to  hide.  I  sought  not  this  inter- 
view ;  on  the  contrary,  averted  it  as  long  as  I  could,  and  am 
now  most  desirous  to  break  it  off."  ..J;,,  uiq 


ii 


138  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

''And  wherefore,  Alice,  since  you  say  it  must  be  our  last  ? 
Why  should  you  shake  the  sand  which  is  passing  so  fast  ? 
The  very  executioner  hurries  not  the  prayers  of  the  wretches 
upon  the  scaffold.  And  see  you  not — I  will  argue  as  coldly 
as  you  can  desire — see  you  not  that  you  are  breaking  your 
own  word,  and  recalling  the  hope  which  yourself  held  out 
tome  ?" 

''  What  hope  have  I  suggested  ?  What  word  have  I 
given,  Julian  ?"  answered  Alice.  "  You  yourself  build  wild 
hopes  in  the  air,  and  accuse  me  of  destroying  what  had 
never  any  earthly  foundation.  Spare  yourself,  Julian — spare 
me — and  in  mercy  to  us  both  depart,  and  return  not  again 
till  you  can  be  more  reasonable.'^ 

"  Reasonable  ! "  replied  Julian  ;  ''  it  is  you,  Alice,  who 
will  deprive  me  altogether  of  reason.  Did  you  not  say  that, 
if  our  parents  could  be  brought  to  consent  to  our  union,  you 
would  no  longer  oppose  my  suit  ?" 

No — no — no,''  said  Alice,  eagerly,  and  blushing  deeply — 

I  did  not  say  so,  Julian ;  it  was  your  own  wild  im- 
agination which  put  construction  on  my  silence  and  my 
confusion.'' 

''You  do  not  say  so,  then  ?"  answered  Julian  ;  "  and  if 
all  other  obstacles  were  removed,  I  should  find  one  in  the 
cold,  flinty  bosom  of  her  who  repays  the  most  devoted  and 
sincere  affection  with  contempt  and  dislike  ?  Is  that,"  he 
added,  in  a  deep  tone  of  feeling — "  is  that  what  Alice  Bridge- 
north  says  to  Julian  Peveril  ? " 

"  Indeed — indeed,  Julian,"  said  the  almost  weeping  girl, 
-'  I  do  not  say  so — I  say  nothing,  and  I  ought  not  to  say  any- 
thing, concerning  what  I  might  do  in  a  state  of  things  which 
can  never  take  place.  Indeed,  Julian,  you  ought  not  thus  to 
press  me.  Unprotected  as  I  am — wishing  you  well — very 
well — why  should  you  urge  me  to  say  or  do  what  would  les- 
sen me  in  my  own  eyes  ?  to  own  affection  for  one  from  whom 
fate  has  separated  me  forever  ?  It  is  ungenerous  —  it  is 
cruel — it  is  seeking  a  momentary  and  selfish  gratification  to 
yourself  at  the  expense  of  every  feeling  which  I  ought  to 
entertain." 

"You  have  said  enough,  Alice,"  said  Julian,  with  spark- 
ling eyes  —  '*  you  have  said  enough  in  deprecating  my 
urgency,  and  I  will  press  you  no  farther.  But  you  overrate 
the  impediments  which  lie  betwixt  us  ;  they  must  and  shall 
give  way." 

"So  you  said  before,"  answered  Alice,  "and  with  what 
probability,  your  own  account  may  show.     You  dared  not  to 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  139 

mention  the  sub^ject  to  your  own  father ;  how  should  you 
venture  to  mention  it  to  mine  ?  '* 

''That  I  will  soon  enable  you  to  decide  upon.  Major 
Bridgenorth,  by  my  mother's  account,  is  a  worthy  and  an 
estimable  man.  I  will  remind  him  that  to  my  mother's  care 
he  owes  the  dearest  treasure  and  comfort  of  his  life ;  and  I 
will  ask  him  if  it  is  a  just  retribution  to  make  that  mother 
childless.  Let  me  but  kno.w  where  to  find  him,  Alice,  and  you 
shall  soon  hear  if  I  have  feared  to  plead  my  cause  with  him.'' 

*'Alas  !"  answered  Alice,  '^  you  well  know  my  uncertainty 
as  to  my  dear  father's  residence.  How  often  has  it  been  my 
earnest  request  to  him  that  he  would  let  me  share  his 
solitary  abode  or  his  obscure  wanderings  !  But  the  short  and 
infretjuent  visits  which  he  makes  to  his  house  are  all  that  he 
permits  me  of  his  society.  Something  I  might  surely  do, 
however  little,  to  alleviate  the  melancholy  by  which  he  is 
^oppressed." 

"  Something  we  might  both  do,"  said  Peveril.  "  How  will- 
ingly would  I  aid  you  in  so  pleasing  a  task  !  All  old  griefs 
should  be  forgotten  —  all  old  friendships  revived.  My 
father's  prejudices  are  those  of  an  Englishman — strong,  in- 
deed, but  not  insurmountable  by  reason.  Tell  me,  then, 
where  Major  Bridgenorth  is,  and  leave  the  rest  to  me  ;  or 
let  me  but  know  by  what  address  your  letters  reach  him,  and 
I  will  forthwith  essay  to  discover  his  dwelling." 

*' Do  not  attempt  it,  I  charge  you,"  said  Alice.  "He  is 
already  a  man  of  sorrows  ;  and  what  would  he  think  were  I 
capable  of  entertaining  a  suit  so  likely  to  add  to  them  ?  Be- 
sides, I  could  not  tell  you  if  I  would  where  he  is  now  to  be 
found.  My  letters  reach  him  from  time  to  time  by  means 
of  my  aunt  Christian;  but  of  his  address  I  am  entirely 
ignorant." 

"Then,  by  Heaven,"  answered  Julian,  "I  will  watch  his 
arrival  in  this  island  and  in  this  house ;  and  ere  he  has 
locked  thee  in  his  arms  he  shall  answer  to  me  on  the  subject 
of  my  suit." 

"  Then  demand  that  answer  now,"  said  a  voice  from  with- 
out the  door,  which  was  at  the  same  time  slowly  opened — 
"  demand  that  answer  now,  for  here  stands  Ealph  Bridge- 
north." 

As  he  spoke,  he  entered  the  apartment  with  his  usual  slow 
and  sedate  step,  raised  his  flapped  and  steeple-crowned  hat 
from  his  brows,  and,  standing  in  the  midst  of  the  room,  eyed 
alternately  his  daughter  and  Julian  Peveril  with  a  fixed  and 
penetrating  glance. 


140  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  Father  !'*  said  Alice,  utterly  astonished,  and  terrified 
besides,  by  his  sudden  appearance  at  such  a  conjuncture — 
**  father,  I  am  not  to  blame." 

**0f  that  anon,  Alice,"  said  Bridgenorth  ;  '^meantime, 
retire  to  your  apartment.  1  have  that  to  say  to  this  youth 
which  will  not  endure  your  presence." 

**  Indeed — indeed,  father,"  said  Alice,  alarmed  at  what 
she  supposed  these  words  indicated,  ^'  Julian  is  as  little  to 
be  blamed  as  I !  It  was  chance — it  was  fortune,  which 
caused  our  meeting  together."  Then  suddenly  rushing  for- 
ward, she  threw  her  arms  around  her  father,  saying,  ^'  0,  do 
him  no  injury  ;  he  meant  me  no  wrong  !  Father,  you  were 
wont  to  be  a  man  of  reason  and  of  religious  peace." 

'^And  wherefore  should  I  not  be  so  now,  Alice?"  said 
Bridgenorth,  raising  his  daughter  from  the  ground,  on  which 
she  had  almost  sunk  in  the  earnestness  of  her  supplication. 
''  Dost  thou  know  aught,  maiden,  which  should  inflame  my 
anger  against  this  young  man  more  than  reason  or  religion ' 
may  bridle  ?  Go — go  to  thy  chamber.  Compose  thine  own 
passions  ;  learn  to  rule  these,  and  leave  it  to  me  to  deal  with 
this  stubborn  young  man." 

Alice  arose,  and,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground,  re- 
tired slowly  from  the  apartment.  Julian  followed  her  steps 
with  his  eyes  till  the  last  wave  of  her  garment  was  visible  at 
the  closing  door  ;  then  turned  his  looks  to  Major  Bridge- 
north,  and  then  sunk  them  on  the  ground.  The  major  con- 
tinued to  regard  him  in  profound  silence ;  his  looks  were 
melancholy  and  even  austere  ;  but  there  was  nothing  which 
indicated  either  agitation  or  keen  resentment.  He  motioned 
to  Julian  to  take  a  seat,  and  assumed  one  himself ;  after 
which  he  opened  the  conversation  in  the  following  manner  :— 

"  You  seemed  but  now,  young  gentleman,  anxious  to  learn 
where  I  was  to  be  found.  Such  I  at  least  conjectured  from 
the  few  expressions  which  I  chanced  to  overhear  ;  for  I  made 
bold,  though  it  may  be  contrary  to  the  code  of  modern 
courtesy,  to  listen  a  moment  or  two  in  order  to  gather  upon 
what  subject  so  young  a  man  as  you  entertained  so  young  a 
woman  as  Alice  in  a  private  interview." 

'*  I  trust,  sir,"  said  Julian,  rallying  spirits  in  what  he  felt 
to  be  a  case  of  extremity,  "you  have  heard  nothing  on  my 
part  which  has  given  offense  to  a  gentleman  whom,  though 
unknown,  I  am  bound  to  respect  so  highly." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  Bridgenorth,  with  the  same 
formal  gravity,  ^'  I  am  pleased  to  find  that  your  business  is, 
or  appears  to  be,  with  me,  rather  than  with  my  daughter. 


PeVeril  of  the  peak  141 

I  only  think  you  had  done  better  to  have  entrusted  it  to  me 
in  the  first  instance,  as  my  sole  concern/' 

The  utmost  sharpness  of  attention  which  Julian  applied 
could  not  discover  if  Bridgenorth  spoke  seriously  or  ironi- 
cally to  the  above  purpose.  He  was,  however,  quick-witted 
beyond  his  experience,  and  was  internally  determined  to 
endeavor  to  discover  something  of  the  character  and  the 
temper  of  him  with  whom  he  spoke.  For  that  purpose,  reg- 
ulating his  reply  in  the  same  tone  with  Bridgenorth's 
observation,  he  said  that,  not  having  the  advantage  to  know 
his  place  of  residence,  he  had  applied  for  information  to  his 
daughter. 

''  Who  is  now  known  to  you  for  the  first  time  ?'^  said 
Bridgenorth.     "  Am  I  so  to  understand  you  ?" 

''  By  no  means,''  answered  Julian,  looking  down  ;  "  I  have 
been  known  to  your  daughter  for  many  years ;  and  what 
I  wished  to  say  respects  both  her  happiness  and  my  own.-" 

''I  must  understand  you,''  said  Bridgenorth,  ^^  even  as 
carnal  men  understand  each  other  on  the  matters  of  this 
world.  You  are  attached  to  my  daughter  by  the  cords  of 
love  ;  I  have  long  known  this." 

"  Yon,  Master  Bridgenorth  ?  "  exclaimed  Peveril — "  you 
have  long  known  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  young  man.  Think  you  that,  as  the  father  of  an 
only  child,  I  could  have  suffered  Alice  Bridgenorth — the 
only  living  pledge  of  her  v/ho  is  now  an  angel  in  Heaven — to 
have  remained  in  this  seclusion  without  the  surest  knowl- 
edge of  all  her  material  actions  ?  I  have,  in  person,  seen 
more  both  of  her  and  of  you  than  you  could  be  aware  of  ;  and 
when  absent  in  the  body,  I  had  the  means  in  maintaining 
the  same  superintendence.  Young  man,  they  say  that  such 
love  as  you  entertain  for  my  daughter  teaches  much  subtilty  ; 
but  believe  not  that  it  can  overreach  the  affection  which  a 
uridowed  father  bears  to  an  only  child." 

"  If,"  said  Julian,  his  heart  beating  thick  and  joyfully — 
'*  if  you  have  known  this  intercourse  so  long,  may  I  not  hope 
that  it  has  not  met  your  disapprobation  ?  " 

The  major  paused  for  an  instant,  and  then  answered,  *'  In 
some  respects,  certainly  not.  Had  it  done  so — had  there 
seemed  aught  on  your  side  or  on  my  daughter's  to  have  ren- 
dered your  visits  here  dangerous  to  her  or  displeasing  to  me 
— she  had  not  been  long  the  inhabitant  of  this  solitude,  or 
of  this  island.  But  be  not  so  hasty  as  to  presume  that  all 
which  you  may  desire  in  this  matter  can  be  either  easily  ol 
speedily  accomplished.^' 


142  WA  VERLEY  NO  VEL8 

^'  I -foresee,  indeed,  difficulties,"  answered  Julian  ;  "but, 
with  your  kind  acquiescence,  they  are  such  as  I  trust  to 
remove.  My  father  is  generous  ;  my  mother  is  candid  and 
liberal.  They  loved  you  once  ;  I  trust  they  will  love  you 
again.  I  will  be  the  mediator  betwixt  you  ;  peace  and  har- 
mony shall  once  more  inhabit  our  neighborhood,  and " 

Bridgenorth  interrupted  him  with  a  grim  smile  ;  for  such 
it  seemed,  as  it  passed  over  a  face  of  deep  melancholy. 
"My  daughter  well  said,  but  short  while  past,  that  you 
were  a  dreamer  of  dreams — an  architect  of  plans  and  hopes 
fantastic  as  the  visions  of  the  night.  It  is  a  great  thing 
you  ask  of  me — the  hand  of  my  only  child — the  sum  of  my 
worldly  substance,  though  that  is  but  dross  in  comparison. 
You  ask  the  key  of  the  only  fountain  from  which  I  may  yet 
hope  to  drink  one  pleasant  draught  ;  you  ask  to  be  the  sole 
and  absolute  keeper  of  my  earthly  happiness  ;  and  what 
have  you  offered,  or  what  have  you  to  offer,  in  return  of  the 
surrender  you  require  of  me  ?  " 

"  I  am  but  too  sensible,"  said  Peveril,  abashed  at  his  own 
hasty. conclusions,  "how  difficult  it  may  be." 

"  Nay,  but  interrupt  me  not,"  replied  Bridgenorth,  "  till 
I  show  you  the  amount  of  what  you  offer  me  in  exchange 
for  a  boon  which,  whatever  may  be  its  intrinsic  value,  is 
earnestly  desired  by  you,  and  comprehends  all  that  is  valu- 
able on  earth  which  I  have  it  in  my  power  to  bestow.  You 
may  have  heard  that  in  the  late  times  I  was  the  antagonist 
of  your  father's  principles  and  his  profane  faction,  but  not 
the  enemy  of  his  person." 

"  I  have  ever  heard,"  replied  Julian,  "  much  the  con- 
trary ;  and  it  was  but  now  that  I  reminded  you  that  you 
had  been  his  friend." 

"  Ay.  When  he  was  in  affliction  and  I  in  prosperity,  I 
was  neither  unwilling  nor  altogether  unable  to  show  myself 
such.  Well,  the  tables  are  turned — the  times  are  changed. 
A  peaceful  and  unoffending  man  might  have  expected  from 
a  neighbor,  now  powerful  in  his  turn,  such  protection,  when 
walking  in  the  paths  of  the  law,  as  all  men,  subjects  of  the 
same  realm,  have  a  right  to  expect  even  from  perfect 
strangers.  What  chances  ?  I  pursue,  with  the  warrant  of 
the  king  and  law,  a  murderess,  bearing  on  her  hand  the 
blood  of  my  near  connection,  and  I  had,  in  such  a  case,  a 
right  to  call  on  every  liege  subject  to  render  assistance  to 
the  execution.  My  late  friendly  neighbor,  bound,  as  a  man 
and  a  magistrate,  to  give  ready  assistance  to  a  legal  action — 
bound,  as  a  grateful  and  obliged  friend,  to  respect  my  rights 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  143 

and  my  person — thrusts  himself  betwixt  me — me,  the 
avenger  of  blood — and  my  lawful  captive  ;  beats  me  to  the 
earth,  at  once  endangering  my  life,  and,  in  mere  human 
eyes,  sullying  mine  honor  ;  and,  under  his  protection,  the 
Midianitish  woman  reaches,  like  a  sea-eagle,  the  nest  which 
she  hath  made  in  the  wave-surrounded  rocks,  and  remains 
there  till  gold,  duly  administered  at  court,  wipes  out  all 
memory  oi  her  crime,  and  baffles  the  vengeance  due  to  the 
memory  of  the  best  and  bravest  of  men.  But,^'  he  added, 
apostrophizing  the  portrait  of  Christian,  ''  thou  art  not  yet 
forgotten,  my  fair-haired  William  !  The  vengeance  which 
dogs  thy  murderers  is  slow,  but  it  is  sure  !  '^ 

There  was  a  pause  of  some  moments,  which  Julian  Peveril, 
willing  to  hear  to  what  conclusion  Major  Bridgenorth  was 
finally  to  arrive,  did  not  care  to  interrupt.  Accordingly,  in 
a  few  minutes,  the  latter  proceeded.  '^  These  things,^'  he 
said,  "  I  recall  not  in  bitterness,  so  far  as  they  are  personal 
to  me — I  recall  them  not  in  spite  of  heart,  though  they  have 
been  the  means  of  banishing  me  from  my  place  of  residence, 
where  my  fathers  dwelt,  and  where  my  earthly  comforts  lie 
interred.  But  the  public  cause  sets  farther  strife  betwixt 
your  father  and  me.  Who  so  active  as  he  to.  execute  the 
fatal  edict  of  black  St.  Bartholomew's  day,  when  so  many 
hundreds  of  Gospel-preachers  were  expelled  from  house  and 
home — from  hearth  and  altar — from  church  and  parish,  to 
make  room  for  belly-gods  and  thieves  ?  Who,  when  a  de- 
voted few  of  the  Lord's  people  were  united  to  lift  the  fallen 
standard,  and  once  more  advance  the  good  cause,  was  the 
readiest  to  break  their  purpose — to  search  for,  persecute, 
and  apprehend  them  ?  Whose  breath  did  I  feel  warm  on 
my  neck,  whose  naked  sword  was  thrust  within  a  foot  of  my 
body,  whilst  I  lurked  darkling,  like  a  thief  in  concealment, 
in  the  house  of  my  fathers  !  It  was  Geoffrey  Peveril's-— it 
was  your  father's  !  What  can  you  answer  to  all  this,  or  how 
can  you  reconcile  it  with  your  present  wishes  ?  " 

Julian,  in  reply,  could  only  remark,  "  That  these  injuries 
had  been  of  long  standing  ;  that  they  had  been  done  in  heat 
of  times  and  heat  of  temper,  and  that  Master  Bridgenorth, 
in  Christian  kindness,  should  not  entertain  a  keen  resent- 
ment of  them,  when  a  door  was  open  for  reconciliation." 

"  Peace,  young  man,"  said  Bridgenorth,  *'  thou  speakest 
of  thou  knowest  not  what.  To  forgive  our  human  wrongs 
is  Christian-like  and  commendable  ;  but  we  have  no  com- 
mission to  forgive  those  which  have  been  done  to  the  cause 
of  religion  and  of  liberty ;  we  have  no  right  to  grant  im- 


144  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

munity,  or  to  shake  hands  with  those  who  have  poured  forth 
the  blood  of  our  brethren."  He  looked  at  the  picture  of 
Christian,  and  was  silent  for  a  few  minutes,  as  if  he  feared 
to  give  too  violent  way  to  his  own  impetuosity,  and  resumed 
the  discourse  in  a  milder  tone. 

''  These  things  I  point  out  to  you,  Julian,  that  I  may  show 
you  how  impossible,  in  the  eyes  of  a  merely  worldly  man, 
would  be  the  union  which  you  are  desirous  of.  But  Heaven 
hath  at  times  opened  a  door,  where  man  beholds  no  means 
of  issue.  Julian,  your  mother,  for  one  to  whom  the  truth 
is  unknown,  is,  after  the  fashion  of  the  world,  one  of  the 
best  and  one  of  the  wisest  of  women  ;  and  Providence,  which 
gave  her  so  fair  a  form,  and  tenanted  that  form  with  a  mind 
as  pure  as  the  original  frailty  of  our  vile  nature  will  permit, 
means  not,  I  trust,  that  she  shall  continue  to  the  end  to  be 
a  vessel  of  wrath  and  perdition.  Of  your  father  I  say  nothing 
— he  is  what  the  times  and  example  of  others,  and  the 
counsels  of  his  lordly  priest,  have  made  him  ;  and  of  him, 
once  more,  I  say  nothing,  save  that  I  have  power  over  him, 
which  ere  now  he  might  have  felt,  but  that  there  is  one 
within  his  chambers  who  might  have  suffered  in  his  suifer- 
ing.  Nor  do  I  wish  to  root  up  your  ancient  family.  If  I 
prize  not  your  boast  of  family  honors  and  pedigree,  I  would 
not  willingly  destroy  them  ;  more  than  I  would  pull  down  a 
moss-grown  tower,  or  hew  to  the  ground  an  ancient  oak, 
save  for  the  straightening  of  the  common  path,  and  the  ad- 
vantage of  the  public.  I  have,  therefore,  no  resentment 
against  the  humbled  house  of  Peveril — nay,  I  have  regard  to 
it  in  its  depression." 

He  here  made  a  second  pause,  as  if  he  expected  Julian  to 
say  something.  But,  notwithstanding  the  ardor  with  which 
the  young  man  had  pressed  his  suit,  he  was  too  much  trained 
in  ideas  of  the  importance  of  his  family,  and  in  the  better 
habit  of  respect  for  his  parents,  to  hear,  without  displeasure, 
some  part  of  Bridgenorth^s  discourse. 

-'  The  house  of  Peveril,"  he  replied,  ''  was  never  humbled." 

^^  Had  you  said  the  sons  of  that  house  had  never  been 
humble"  answered  Bridgenorth,  '''you  would  have  come 
nearer  the  truth.  Are  you  not  humbled  ?  Live  you  not 
here,  the  lackey  of  a  haughty  woman,  the  play-companion 
of  an  empty  youth  ?  If  you  leave  this  isle  and  go  the  court 
of  England,  see  what  regard  will  there  be  paid  to  the  old 
pedigree  that  deduces  your  descent  from  kings  and  con- 
querors. A  scurril  or  obscene  jest,  an  impudent  carriage*,  a 
laced  cloak,  a  handful  of  gold,  and  the  readiness  to  wager  it 


I 


PEVETtIL  OF  THE  PEAK  14ft 

on  a  card  or  a  die,  will  better  advance  you  at  the  court  of 
Charles  than  your  father's  ancient  name,  and  slavish  devo- 
tion of  blood  and  fortune  to  the  cause  of  his  father/' 

'*  That  is  indeed,  but  too  probable/'  said  Peveril ;  "  but 
the  court  shall  be  no  element  of  mine.  I  will  live  like  my 
fathers,  among  my  people,  care  for  their  comforts,  decide 
their  differences " 

"  Build  Maypoles,  and  dance  around  them,"  said  Bridge- 
north,  with  another  of  those  grim  smiles  which  passed  over 
his  features  like  the  light  of  a  sexton's  torch,  as  it  glares 
and  is  reflected  by  the  window  of  the  church,  when  he  comes 
from  locking  a  funeral  vault.  '^  No,  Julian,  these  are  not 
times  in  which,  by  the  dreaming  drudgery  of  a  country 
magistrate  and  the  petty  cares  of  a  country  proprietor,  a  man 
can  serve  his  unhappy  country.  There  are  mighty  designs 
afloat,  and  men  are  called  to  make  their  choice  betwixt  God 
and  Baal.  The  ancient  superstition — the  abomination  of 
our  fathers — is  raising  its  head  and  flinging  abroad  its  snares, 
under  the  protection  of  the  princes  of  the  earth  ;  but  she 
raises  not  her  head  unmarked  or  unwatched  :  the  true  Eng- 
lish hearts  are  as  thousands  which  wait  but  a  signal  to  arise 
as  one  man,  and  show  the  kings  of  the  earth  that  they  have 
combined  in  vain  !  We  will  cast  their  cords  from  us  ;  the 
cup  of  their  abominations  we  will  not  taste.'' 

'^  You  speak  in  darkness,  Master  Bridgenorth,"  said  Pev- 
eril. "  Knowing  so  much  of  me,  you  may,  perhaps,  also  be 
aware  that  I  at  least  have  seen  too  much  of  the  delusions  of 
Rome  to  desire  that  they  should  be  propagated  at  home." 

"  Else,  wherefore  do  I  speak  to  thee  friendly  and  so  free  ?" 
said  Bridgenorth.  '^  Do  I  not  know  with  what  readiness  of 
early  wit  you  baffled  the  wily  attempts  of  the  woman's  priest 
to  seduce  thee  from  the  Protestant  faith  ?  Do  I  not  know 
how  thou  wast  beset  when  abroad,  and  that  thou  didst  both 
hold  thine  own  faith  and  secure  the  wavering  belief  of  thy 
friend  ?  Said  I  not,  '  This  was  done  like  the  son  of  Mar- 
garet Peveril '  ?  Said  I  not  ^  He  holdeth,  as  yet,  but  the 
dead  letter  ;  but  the  seed  which  is  sown  shall  one  day  sprout 
and  quicken '  ?  Enough,  however,  of  this.  For  to-day 
this  is  thy  habitation.  I  will  see  in  thee  neither  the  servant 
of  that  daughter  of  Eshbaal  nor  the  son  of  him  who  pur- 
sued my  life  and  blemished  my  honors  ;  but  thou  shalt  be  to 
me,  for  this  day,  as  the  child  of  her  without  whom  my  house 
had  been  extinct." 

So  saying,  he  stretched  out  his  thin,  bony  hand  and  grasped 
that  of  Julian  Peveril ;  but  there  was  such  a  look  of  mourn« 

lO 


146  WA  VEELEY  NO  VELS 

ing  in  his  welcome  that,  whatever  delight  the  youth  an- 
ticipated spending  so  long  a  time  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Alice  Bridgenorth,  perhaps  in  her  society,  or  however 
strongly  he  felt  the  prudence  of  conciliating  her  father's 
good-will,  he  could  not  help  feeling  as  if  his  heart  was  chilled 
in  his  company. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

This  day  at  least  is  friendship's ;  on  the  morrow 
Let  strife  come  an  she  will. 

Otway. 

Deborah  Debbitch,  summoned  by  her  master,  now  made 
her  appearance,  with  her  handkerchief  at  her  eyes,  and  an 
appearance  of  great  mental  trouble.  '*It  was  not  my  fault. 
Major  Bridgenorth,"  she  said  ;  *^  how  could  I  help  it  ?  like 
will  to  like — the  boy  would   come — the  girl  would  see  him." 

*^  Peace,  foolish  woman,"  said  Bridgenorth,  *' and  hear 
what  I  have  got  to  say." 

"  I  know  what  your  honor  has  to  say  well  enough,"  said 
Deborah.  "Service,  I  wot.  is  no  inheritance  nowadays — 
some  are  wiser  than  other  some — if  I  had  not  been  wheedled 
away  from  Martindale,  I  might  have  had  a  house  of  mine 
own  by  this  time." 

"  Peace,  idiot ! "  said  Bridgenorth ;  but  so  intent  was 
Deborah  on  her  vindication,  that  he  could  but  thrust  the 
interjection,  as  it  were  edgewise,  between  her  exclamations, 
which  followed  as  thick  as  is  usual  in  cases  where  folk  en- 
deavor to  avert  deserved  censure  by  a  clamorous  justification 
ere  the  charge  be  brought. 

"No  wonder  she  was  cheated,"  she  said,  "out  of  sight  of 
her  own  interest,  when  it  was  to  wait  on  pretty  Miss  Alice. 
All  your  honor's  gold  should  never  have  tempted  me,  but 
that  I  knew  she  was  but  a  dead  castaway,  poor  innocent,  if 
she  were  taken  away  from  my  lady  or  me.  And  so  this  is 
the  end  on't ! — up  early  and  down  late,  and  this  is  all  my 
thanks  !  But  your  honor  had  better  take  care  what  you  do  ; 
she  has  the  short  cough  yet  sometimes,  and  should  take 
physic,  spring  and  fall." 

"Peace,  chattering  fool ! "  said  her  master,  so  soon  as  her 
failing  breath  gave  him  an  opportunity  to  strike  in  ;  "  think- 
est  thou  I  knew  not  of  this  young  gentleman's  visits  to  the 
Black  Fort,  and  that,  if  they  had  displeased  me,  I  would 
not  have  known  how  to  stop  them  ?  " 

"Did  I  know  that  your  honor  knew  of  his  visits  !"  ex- 
claimed Deborah,  in  a  triumphant  tone — for,  like  most  of 
her  condition,  she  never  sought  farther  for  her  defense  than 

147 


148  WA  VERlEY  NO VELS 

a  lie,  however  inconsistent  and  improbable — "  did  I  kno^ 
that  your  honor  knew  of  it  ?  Why,  how  should  I  have  per- 
mitted his  visits  else  ?  I  wonder  what  your  honor  takes  me 
for  !  Had  I  not  been  sure  it  was  the  thing  in  this  world 
that  your  honor  most  desired,  would  I  have  presumed  to 
lend  it  a  hand  forward  ?  I  trust  1  know  my  duty  better. 
Hear  if  I  ever  asked  another  youngster  into  the  house,  save 
himself,  for  I  knew  your  honor  was  wise,  and  quarrels  can- 
not last  forever,  and  love  begins  where  hatred  ends  ;  and,  to 
be  sure,  they  look  as  if  they  were  born  one  for  the  other  ; 
and  then  the  estates  of  Moultrassie  and  Martindale  suit  each 
other  like  sheath  and  knife." 

''^ Parrot  of  a  woman,  hold  your  tongue!"  said  Bridge- 
north,  his  patience  almost  completely  exhausted;  ^^or,  if 
you  will  prate,  let  it  be  to  your  playfellows  in  the  kitchen, 
and  bid  them  get  ready  some  dinner  presently,  for  Master 
Peveril  is  far  from  home." 

''  That  I  will,  and  with  all  my  heart,"  said  Deborah  ;  '^  and 
if  there  are  a  pair  of  fatter  fowls  in  Man  than  shall  clap 
their  wings  on  the  table  presently,  your  honor  shall  call  me 
goose  as  well  as  parrot."     She  then  left  the  apartment. 

^'  It  is  to  such  a  woman  as  that,"  said  Bridgenorth,  look- 
ing after  her  significantly,  '^  that  you  conceived  me  to  have 
abandoned  the  charge  of  my  only  child  ?  But  enough  of 
this  subject ;  we  will  walk  abroad,  if  you  will,  while  she  is 
engaged  in  a  province  fitter  for  her  understanding." 

So  saying,  he  left  the  house,  accompanied  by  Julian 
Peveril,  and  they  were  soon  walking  side  by  side,  as  if  they 
had  been  old  acquaintances. 

It  may  have  happened  to  many  of  our  readers,  as  it  has 
done  to  ourselves,  to  be  thrown  by  accident  into  society  with 
some  individual  whose  claims  to  what  is  called  a  serious 
character  stand  considerably  higher  than  our  own,  and  with 
whom,  therefore,  we  have  conceived  ourselves  likely  to  spend 
our  time  in  a  very  stiff  and  constrained  manner ;  while,  on. 
the  other  hand,  our  destined  companion  may  have  appre- 
hended some  disgust  from  the  supposed  levity  and  thought- 
less gaiety  of  a  disposition  so  different  from  his  own.  Now, 
it  has  frequently  happened  that,  when  we,  with  that  urbanity 
and  good-humor  which  is  our  principal  characteristic,  have 
accommodated  ourself  to  our  companion,  by  throwing  as 
much  seriousness  into  our  conversation  as  our  habits  will 
admit,  he,  on  the  other  hand,  moved  by  our  liberal  example, 
hath  divested  his  manners  of  a  part  of  their  austerity  ;  and 
our  conversation  has,  in  consequence,  been  of  that  pleasant 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  149 

texture,  betwixt  the  useful  and  agreeable,  which  best  re- 
sembles ^'  the  fairy-web  of  night  and.  day/'  usually  called  in 
prose  the  twilight.  It  is  probable  both  parties  may,  on  such 
occasions,  have  been  the  better  for  their  encounter,  even  if 
it  went  no  farther  than  to  establish  for  the  time  a  commu- 
nity of  feeling  between  men  who,  separated  more  perhaps 
by  temper  than  by  principle,  are  too  apt  to  charge  each 
other  with  profane  frivolity  on  the  one  hand  or  fanaticism 
on  the  other. 

It  fared  thus  in  Peveril's  walk  with  Bridgenorth,  and  in 
the  conversation  which  he  held  with  him. 

Carefully  avoiding  the  subject  on  which  he  had  already 
spoken,  Major  Bridgenorth  turned  his  conversation  chiefly 
on  foreign  travel,  and  on  the  wonders  he  had  seen  in  distant 
countries,  and  which  he  appeared  to  have  marked  with  a 
curious  and  observant  eye.  This  discourse  made  the  time 
fly  light  away  ;  for,  although  the  anecdotes  and  observations 
thus  communicated  were  all  tinged  with  the  serious  and 
almost  gloomy  spirit  of  the  narrator,  they  yet  contained 
traits  of  interest  and  of  wonder,  such  as  are  usually  captivat- 
ing to  a  youthful  ear,  and  were  particularly  so  to  Julian, 
who  had  in  his  disposition  some  cast  of  the  romantic  and 
adventurous. 

It  appeared  that  Bridgenorth  knew  the  south  of  France, 
and  could  tell  many  stories  of  the  French  Huguenots,  who 
already  began  to  sustain  those  vexations  which  a  few  years 
afterwards  were  summed  up  by  the  revocation  of  the  Edict 
of  Nantz.  He  had  even  been  in  Hungary,  for  he  spoke  as 
from  personal  knowledge  of  the  character  of  several  of  the 
heads  of  the  great  Protestant  insurrection,  which  at  this 
time  had  taken  place  under  the  celebrated  Tekeli ;  and  laid 
down  solid  reasons  why  they  were  entitled  to  make  common 
cause  with  the  Great  Turk,  rather  than  submit  to  the  Pope 
of  Rome.  He  talked  also  of  Savoy,  where  those  of  the 
Reformed  religion  still  suffered  a  cruel  persecution  ;  and  he 
mentioned,  with  a  swelling  spirit,  the  protection  which 
Oliver  had  afforded  to  the  oppressed  Protestant  churches ; 
"therein  showing  himself,''  he  added,  "more  fit  to  wield 
the  supreme  power  than  those  who,  claiming  it  by  right  of 
inheritance,  use  it  only  for  their  own  vain  and  voluptuous 
pursuits." 

"  I  did  not  expect/'  said  Peveril,  modestly,  "  to  have  heard 
Oliver's  panegyric  from  you.  Master  Bridgenorth." 

"  I  did  not  panegyrize  him,"  answered  Bridgenorth  ;  "  I 
Bpeak  but  truth  of  that  extraordinary  man,  now  being  dead, 


150  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

whom,  when  alive,  I  feared  not  to  withstand  to  his  face.  It 
is  the  fault  of  the  present  unhappy  King  if  he  make  us  look 
back  with  regret  to  the  days  when  the  nation  was  respected 
abroad,  and  when  devotion  and  sobriety  were  practised  at 
home.  But  I  mean  not  to  vex  your  spirit  by  controversy. 
You  have  lived  amongst  those  who  find  it  more  easy  and 
more  pleasant  to  be  the  pensioners  of  France  than  her  con- 
trollers ;  to  spend  the  money  which  she  doles  out  to  them= 
selves  than  to  check  the  tyranny  with  which  she  oppresses 
our  poor  brethren  of  the  religion.  When  the  scales  shall 
fall  from  thine  eyes,  all  this  thou  shalt  see  ;  and  seeing,  shalt 
learn  to  detest  and  despise  it.'"" 

By  this  time  they  had  completed  their  walk,  and  were 
returned  to  the  Black  Fort  by  a  different  path  from  that 
which  had  led  them  up  the  valley.  The  exercise  and  the 
general  tone  of  conversation  had  removed,  in  some  degree, 
the  shyness  and  embarrassment  which  Peveril  originally  felt 
in  Bridgenorth^s  presence,  and  which  the  tenor  of  his  first 
remarks  had  rather  increased  than  diminished.  Deborah's 
promised  banquet  was  soon  on  the  board  ;  and  in  simplicity, 
as  well  as  neatness  and  good  order,  answered  the  character 
she  had  claimed  for  it.  In  one  respect  alone  there  seemed 
some  inconsistency,  perhaps  a  little  affectation.  Most  of  the 
dishes  were  of  silver,  and  the  plates  were  of  the  same  metal ; 
instead  of  the  trenchers  and  pewter  which  Peveril  had 
usually  seen  employed  on  similar  occasions  at  the  Black 
Fort. 

Presently,  with  the  feeling  of  one  who  walks  in  a  pleasant 
dream  from  which  he  fears  to  awake,  and  whose  delight  is 
mingled  with  w:onder  and  with  uncertainty,  Julian  Peveril 
found  himself  seated  between  Alice  Bridgenorth  and  her 
father — the  being  he  most  loved  on  earth,  and  the  person 
whom  he  had  ever  considered  as  the  great  obstacle  to  their 
intercourse  !  The  confusion  of  his  mind  was  such,  that  he 
could  scarcely  reply  to  the  importunate  civilities  of  Dame 
Deborah,  who,  seated  with  them  at  table  in  her  quality  of 
governante,  now  dispensed  the  good  things  which  had  been 
prepared  under  her  own  eye. 

As  for  Alice,  she  seemed  to  have  formed  a  resolution  to 
play  the  mute  ;  for  she  answered  not,  excepting  briefly,  to 
the  questions  of  Dame  Debbitch  ;  nay,  even  when  her  father, 
which  happened  once  or  twice,  attempted  to  bring  her  for- 
ward in  the  conversation,  she  made  no  farther  reply  than 
respect  for  him  rendered  absolutely  necessary. 

Upon  Bridgenorth  himself,  then,  devolved  the  task  of  en- 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  15i 

tertaining  the  company  ;  and  contrary  to  his  ordinary  habits, 
he  did  not  seem  to  shrink  from  it.  His  discourse  was  not 
only  easy,  but  almost  cheerful,  though  ever  and  anon  crossed 
by  some  expressions  indicative  of  natural  and  habitual  mel- 
ancholy, or  prophetic  of  future  misfortune  and  woe.  Flashes 
of  enthusiasm,  too,  shot  along  his  conversation,  gleaming 
like  the  sheet-lightning  of  an  autumn  eve,  which  throws  a 
strong,  though  momentary,  illumination  across  the  sober 
twilight,  and  all  the  surrounding  objects,  which,  touched 
by  it,  assume  a  wilder  and  more  striking  character.  In 
general,  however,  Bridgenorth's  remarks  were  plain  and 
sensible ;  and  as  he  a*imed  at  no  graces  of  language,  any  or- 
nament which  they  received  arose  out  of  the  interest  with 
which  they  were  impressed  on  his  hearers.  For  example, 
when  Deborah,  in  the  pride  and  vulgarity  of  her  heart, 
called  Julian's  attention  to  the  plate  from  which  they  had 
been  eating,  Bridgenorth  seemed  to  think  an  apology  nec- 
essary for  such  superfluous  expense. 

''  It  was  a  symptom,"  he  said,  ''  of  approaching  danger, 
when  such  men,  as  were  not  usually  influenced  by  the  vani- 
ties of  life,  employed  much  money  in  ornaments  composed 
of  the  precious  metals.  It  was  a  sign  that  the  merchant 
could  not  obtain  a  profit  for  the  capital,  which,  for  the  sake 
of  security,  he  invested  in  this  inert  form.  It  was  a  proof 
that  the  noblemen  or  gentlemen  feared  the  rapacity  of  power, 
when  they  put  their  wealth  into  forms  the  most  portable  and 
the  most  capable  of  being  hidden  ;  and  it  showed  the  un- 
certainty of  credit,  when  a  man  of  judgment  preferred  the 
actual  possession  of  a  mass  of  silver  to  the  convenience  of  a 
goldsmith's  or  a  banker's  receipt.  While  a  shadow  of  liberty 
remained,''  he  said,  "  domestic  rights  were  last  invaded  ;  and, 
therefore,  men  disposed  upon  their  cupboards  and  tables  the 
wealth  which  in  these  places  would  remain  longest,  though 
not  perhaps  finally,  sacred  from  the  grasp  of  a  tyrannical 
government.  But  let  there  be  a  demand  for  capital  to  sup- 
port a  profitable  commerce,  and  the  mass  is  at  once  con- 
signed to  the  furnace,  and,  ceasing  to  be  a  vain  and  cumbrous 
ornoment  of  the  banquet,  becomes  a  potent  and  active  agent 
for  furthering  the  prosperitv  of  the  country." 

"In  war,  too,"  said  Peveril,  ''plate  has  been  found  a 
ready  resource." 

"  But  too  much  so,"  answered  Bridgenorth.  **  In  the  late 
times,  the  plate  of  the  nobles  and  gentry,  with  that  of  the 
colleges,  and  the  sale  of  the  crown  jewels,  enabled  the  King 
to  make  his  unhappy  stand,  which  prevented  matters  return- 


152  WA  VERLEY  NO  VELS5 

ing  to  a  state  of  peace  and  good  order,  until  the  sword  had  at- 
tained an  undue  superiority  both  over  King  and  Parliament/' 

He  looked  at  Julian  as  he  spoke,  much  as  he  who  proves 
a  horse  offers  some  object  suddenly  to  his  eyes,  then  watches 
to  see  if  he  starts  or  blenches  from  it.  But  Julian's  thoughts 
were  too  much  bent  on  other  topics  to  manifest  any  alarm. 
His  answer  referred  to  a  previous  part  of  Bridgenorth's 
discourse,  and  was  not  returned  till  after  a  brief  pause. 
*'War,  then,'' he  said — *'war,  the  grand  impoverisher,  is 
also  a  creator  of  the  wealth  which  it  wastes  and  devours  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Bridgenorth,  ^^even  as  the  sluice  brings 
into  action  the  sleeping  waters  of  the  lake,  which  it  finally 
drains.  Necessity  invents  arts  and  discovers  means  ;  and 
what  necessity  is  sterner  than  that  of  civil  war  ?  There- 
fore, even  war  is  not  in  itself  unmixed  evil,  being  the  creator 
of  impulses  and  energies  which  could  not  otherwise  have 
existed  in  society." 

"Men  should  go  to  war,  then,''  said  Peveril,  "that  they 
may  send  their  silver  plate  to  the  mint,  and  eat  from  pewter 
dishes  and  wooden  platters  ?" 

"  Not  so,  my  son,"  said  Bridgenorth.  Then  checking 
himself,  as  he  observed  the  deep  crimson  on  Julian's  cheek 
and  brov,  he  added,  "  I  crave  your  pardon  for  such  famil- 
iarity ;  but  I  meant  not  to  limit  what  I  said  even  now  to 
such  trifling  consequences,  although  it  may  be  something 
salutary  to  tear  men  from  their  pomps  and  luxuries,  and 
teach  those  to  be  Eomans  who  would  otherwise  be  Sybarites. 
But  I  would  say,  that  times  of  public  danger,  as  they  call 
into  circulation  the  miser's  hoard  and  the  proud  man's  bul- 
lion, and  so  add  to  the  circulating  wealth  of  the  country, 
do  also  call  into  action  many  a  brave  and  noble  spirit,  which 
would  otherwise  lie  torpid,  give  no  example  to  the  living, 
and  bequeath  no  name  to  future  ages.  Society  knows  not, 
and  cannot  know,  the  mental  treasures  which  slumber  in  her 
bosom,  till  necessity  and  opportunity  call  forth  the  states- 
man and  the  soldier  from  the  shades  of  lowly  life  to  the  parts 
they  are  designed  by  Providence  to  perform,  and  the'  stations 
which  nature  had  qualified  them  to  hold.  So  rose  Oliver — 
so  rose  Milton — so  rose  many  another  name  which  cannot  be 
forgotten — even  as  the  tempest  summons  forth  and  displays 
the  address  of  the  mariner." 

"  You  speak,"  said  Peveril,  "  as  if  national  calamity  might 
be,  in  some  sort,  an  advantage." 

"  And  if  it  were  not  so,"  replied  Bridgenorth,  "  it  had 
not  existed  in  this  state  of  trial,  where , all  temporal  ^yil  ia 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  168 

alleviated  by  something  good  in  its  progress  or  result,  and 
where  all  that  is  good  is  close  coupled  with  that  which  is  iii 
itself  evil." 

''  It  must  be  a  noble  sight/'  said  Julian,  "to  behold  the 
slumbering  energies  of  a  great  mind  awakened  into  energy, 
and  to  see  it  assume  the  authority  which  is  its  due  over 
spirits  more  meanly  endowed/' 

'^I  once  witnessed,"  said  Bridgenorth,  ''something  to 
the  same  effect ;  and  as  the  tale  is  brief,  I  will  tell  it  to  you, 
if  you  will : — 

''Amongst  my  wanderings,  the  Trans- Atlantic  settle^ 
ments  have  not  escaped  me  ;  more  especially  the  country 
of  New  England,  into  which  our  native  land  has  shaken 
from  her  lap,  as  a  drunkard  flings  from  him  his  treasures, 
so  much  that  is  precious  in  the  eyes  of  God  and  of  His 
children.  There  thousands  of  our  best  and  most  godly  men 
— such  whose  righteousness  might  come  between  the  Al- 
mighty and  His  wrath,  and  prevent  the  ruin  of  cities — are 
content  to  be  the  inhabitants  of  the  desert,  rather  encoun- 
tering the  unenlightened  savages  than  stooping  to  extinguish, 
under  the  oppression  practised  in  Britain,  the  light  that  is 
within  their  own  minds.  There  I  remained  for  a  time  dur- 
ing the  wars  which  the  colony  maintained  with  Philip,  a 
great  Indian  chief,  or  sachem,  as  they  were  called,  who 
seemed  a  messenger  sent  from  Satan  to  buffet  them.  His 
cruelty  was  great — his  dissimulation  profound  ;  and  the 
skill  and  promptitude  with  which  he  maintained  a  destruct- 
ive and  desultory  warfare  inflicted  many  dreadful  calamities 
on  the  settlement.  I  was,  by  chance,  at  a  small  village  in 
the  woods,  more  than  thirty  miles  from  Boston,  and  in  its 
situation  exceedingly  lonely,  and  surrounded  with  thickets. 
Nevertheless,  there  was  no  idea  of  any  danger  from  the  In- 
dians at  that  time,  for  men  trusted  to  the  protection  of  a 
considerable  body  of  troops  who  had  taken  the  field  for  pro- 
tection of  the  frontiers,  and  who  lay,  or  were  supposed  to 
lie,  betwixt  the  hamlet  and  the  enemy's  country.  But  they 
had  to  do  with  a  foe  whom  the  devil  himself  had  inspired 
at  once  with  cunning  and  cruelty.  It  was  on  a  Sabbath 
morning,  when  we  had  assembled  to  take  sweet  counsel  to- 
gether in  the  Lord^s  house.  Our  temple  was  but  constructed 
of  wooden  logs ;  but  when  shall  the  chant  of  trained  hire- 
lings, or  the  sounding  of  tin  and  brass  tubes  amid  the  aisles 
of  a  minster,  arise  so  sweetly  to  Heaven  as  did  the  psalm  in 
which  we  united  at  once  our  voices  and  our  hearts  !  An  ex- 
cellent worthy,  who  now  sleeps  in  the  Lord,  Nehemiah  Sols- 


154  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

grace,  long  the  companion  of  my  pilgrimage.,  had  just  begun 
to  wrestle  in  prayer,  when  a  woman,  with  disordered  looks 
and  disheveled  hair,  entered  our  chapel  in  a  distracted  man- 
ner, screaming  incessantly,  ^^The  Indians  !  The  Indians  \'' 
In  that  land  no  man  dares  separate  himself  from  his  means 
of  defense,  and  whether  in  the  city  or  in  the  field,  in  the 
plowed  land  or  the  forest,  men  keep  beside  thera  their  wea- 
pons, as  did  the  Jews  at  the  rebuilding  of  the  Temple.  So 
we  sallied  forth  with  our  guns  and  pikes,  and  heard  the 
whoop  of  these  incarnate  devils,  already  in  possession  of  a 
part  of  the  town,  and  exercising  their  cruelty  on  the  few 
whom  weighty  causes  or  indisposition  had  withheld  from 
public  worship  ;  and  it  was  remarked  as  a  judgment  that, 
upon  that  bloody  Sabbath,  Adrian  Hanson,  a  Dutchman,  a 
man  well  enough  disposed  towards  man,  but  whose  mind 
was  altogether  given  to  worldly  gain,  was  shot  and  scalped 
as  he  was  summing  his  weekly  gains  in  his  warehouse.  In 
fine,  there  was  much  damage  done  ;  and  although  our  ar- 
rival and  entrance  into  combat  did  in  some  sort  put  them 
back,  yet  being  surprised  and  confused,  and  having  no  ap- 
pointed leader  of  our  band,  the  devilisii  enemy  shot  hard  at 
us,  and  had  some  advantage.  It  was  pitiful  to  hear  the 
screams  of  women  and  children  amid  the  report  of  guns  and 
the  whistling  of  bullets,  mixed  with  the  ferocious  yells  of  these 
savages,  which  they  term  their  war-whoop.  Several  houses 
in  the  upper  part  of  the  village  were  soon  on  fire  ;  and  the 
roaring  of  the  flames,  and  crackling  of  the  great  beams  as 
they  blazed,  added  to  the  horrible  confusion ;  while  the 
smoke  which  the  wind  drove  against  us  gave  farther  advan- 
tage to  the  enemy,  who  fought,  as  it  were,  invisible,  and 
under  cover,  whilst  we  fell  fast  by  their  unerring  fire.  In 
this  state  of  confusion,  and  while  we  were  about  to  adopt 
the  desperate  project  of  evacuating  the  village,  and,  placing 
the  women  and  children  in  the  center,  of  attempting  a  re- 
treat to  the  nearest  settlement,  it  pleased  Heaven  to  send  us 
unexpected  assistance.  A  tall  man  of  a  reverend  appearance, 
whom  no  one  of  us  had  ever  seen  before,  suddenly  was  in 
the  midst  of  us,  as  we  hastily  agitated  the  resolution  of  re- 
treating. His  garments  were  of  the  skin  of  the  elk,  and  he 
wore  sword  and  carried  gun  ;  I  never  saw  anything  more 
august  than  his  features,  overshadowed  by  locks  of  gray  hair, 
which  mingled  with  a  long  beard  of  the  same  color.  ''  Men 
and  brethren,''  he  said,  in  a  voice  like  that  which  turns  back 
the  flight,  ''why  sink  your  hearts  ?  and  why  are  you  thus 
disquieted  ?    Fear  ye  that  the  God  we  serve  will  give  you  up  to 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  165 

yonder  heathen  dogs  ?  Follow  me,  iind  you  shall  see  this  day 
that  there  is  a  captain  in  Israel  \"  He  uttered  a  few  brief 
but  distinct  orders,  in  the  tone  of  one  who  was  accustomed 
to  command  ;  and  such  was  the  influence  of  his  appearance, 
his  mien,  his  language,  and  his  presence  of  mind,  that  he 
was  implicitly  obeyed  by  men  who  had  never  seen  him  until 
that  moment.  We  were  hastily  divided,  by  his  orders,  into 
two  bodies  ;  one  of  which  maintained  the  defense  of  the  vil- 
lage with  more  courage  than  ever,  convinced  that  the  Un- 
known was  sent  by  God  to  our  rescue.  At  his  command 
they  assumed  the  best  and  most  sheltered  positions  for  ex- 
changing their  deadl}^  fire  with  the  Indians ;  while,  under 
cover  of  the  smoke,  the  stranger  sallied  from  the  town,  at 
the  head  of  the  other  division  of  the  New  England  men,  and 
fetching  a  circuit,  attacked  the  red  warriors  in  the  rear. 
The  surprise,  as  is  usual  amongst  savages,  had  complete 
effect ;  for  they  doubted  not  that  they  were  assailed  in  their 
turn,  and  placed  betwixt  two  hostile  parties  by  the  return 
of  a  detachment  from  the  provincial  army.  The  heathens 
fled  in  confusion,  abandoning  the  half- won  village,  and  leav- 
ing behind  them  such  a  number  of  their  warriors  that  the 
tribe  hath  never  recovered  its  loss.  Never  shall  I  forget  the 
figure  of  our  venerable  leader,  when  our  men,  and  not  they 
only,  but  the  women  and  children  of  the  village,  rescued 
from  the  tomahawk  and  scalping-knife,  stood  crowded  around 
him,  yet  scarce  venturing  to  approach  his  person,  and  more 
minded,  perhaps,  to  worship  him  as  a  descended  angel  than 
to  thank  him  as  a  fellow-mortal.  '*  Not  unto  me  be  the 
glory,"  he  said  :  '^  I  am  but  an  implement,  frail  as  your- 
selves, in  the  hand  of  Him  who  is  strong  to  deliver.  Bring 
me  a  cup  of  water,  that  I  may  allay  my  parched  throat,  ere 
I  essay  the  task  of  offering  thanks  where  they  are  most  due.'' 
I  was  nearest  to  him  as  he  spoke,  and  I  gave  into  his  hand 
the  water  he  requested.  At  that  moment  we  exchanged 
glances,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  recognized  a  noble  friend 
whom  I  had  long  since  deemed  in  glory  ;  but  he  gave  me  no 
time  to  speak,  had  speech  been  prudent.  Sinking  on  his 
knees  and  signing  us  to  obey  him,  he  poured  forth  a  strong 
and  energetic  thanksgiving  for  the  turning  back  of  the  battle, 
which,  pronounced  with  a  voice  loud  and  clear  as  a  war- 
trumpet,  thrilled  through  the  joints  and  marrow  of  the 
hearers.  I  have  heard  many  an  act  of  devotion  in  my  life, 
had  Heaven  vouchsafed  me  grace  to  profit  by  them ;  but 
such  a  prayer  as  this,  uttered  amid  the  dead  and  the  dying, 
with  a  rich  tone  of  mingled  triumph  and  adoration,  was  be- 


ise  wav:erley  yovBLs 

yond  them  all  :  it  was  like  the  song  of  the  inspired  prophet^ 
ess  who  dwelt  beneath  the  palm-tree  between  Ramah  and 
Bethel.  He  was  silent ;  and  for  a  brief  space  we  remained 
with  our  faces  bent  to  the  earth,  no  man  daring  to  lift  his 
head.  At  length  we  looked  up,  but  our  deliverer  was  no 
longer  amongst  us  ;  nor  was  he  ever  again  seen  in  the  land 
which  he  had  rescued."' 

Here  Bridgenorth,  who  had  told  this  singular  story  with 
an  eloquence  and  vivacity  of  detail  very  contrary  to  the 
usual  dryness  of  his  conversation,  paused  for  an  instant,  and 
then  resumed—'*^  Thou  seest,  young  man,  that  men  of  valor 
and  of  discretion  are  called  forth  to  command  in  circum- 
stances of  national  exigence,  though  their  very  existence  is 
unknown  in  the  land  which  they  are  predestined  to  deliver. '' 

"  But  what  thought  the  people  of  the  mysterious 
stranger  ? "  said  Julian,  who  had  listened  with  eagerness, 
for  the  story  was  of  a  kind  interesting  to  the  youthful  and 
the  brave. 

^' Many  things,^' ainswered  Bridgenorth,  "and,  as  usual, 
little  to  the  purpose.  The  prevailing  opinion  was,  notwith- 
standing his  own  disclamation,  that  the  stranger  was  really 
a  supernatural  being  ;  others  believed  him  an  inspired  cham- 
pion, transported  in  the  body  from  some  distant  climate  to 
show  us  the  way  to  safety  ;  others,  again,  concluded  that  he 
was  a  recluse,  who,  either  from  motives  of  piety  or  other 
cogent  reasons,  had  become  a  dweller  in  the  wilderness,  and 
shunned  the  face  of  man." 

"  And,  if  I  may  presume  to  ask,''  said  Julian,  *^to  which 
of  these  opinions  were  you  disposed  to  adhere  ?" 

"The  last  suited  best  with  the  transient  though  close 
view  with  which  I  had  perused  the  stranger's  features,"  re- 
plied Bridgenorth  ;  "  for  although  I  dispute  not  that  it  may 
please  Heaven,  on  high  occasions,  even  to  raise  one  from 
the  dead  in  defense  of  his  country,  yet  I  doubted  not  then, 
as  I  doubt  not  now,  that  I  looked  on  the  living  form  of  one 
who  had  indeed  powerful  reasons  to  conceal  him  in  the  cleft 
of  the  rock." 

"  Are  these  reasons  a  secret  ?  "  asked  Julian  Peveril. 

"K"ot  properly  a  secret,"  replied  Bridgenorth;  "for  I 
fear  not  thy  betraying  what  I  might  tell  thee  in  private  dis- 
course ;  and  besides,  wert  thou  so  base,  the  prey  lies  too 
distant  for  any  hunters  to  whom  thou  couldst  point  out  its 
traces.  But  the  name  of  this  worthy  will  sound  harsh  in 
thy  ear,  on  account  of  one  action  of  his  life — being  his  ac- 
cession to  a  great  measure  which  made  the  extreme  isles  of 


FEVER IL  OF  THE  PEAK  16T 

the  earth  to  tremble.  Have  you  never  heard  of  Richard 
Whalley?^'* 

''Of  the  regicide  ?'*  exclaimed  Peveril,  starting. 

''Call  his  act  what  thou  wilt,"  said  Bridgenorth  ;  "he 
was  not  less  the  rescuer  of  that  devoted  village,  that,  with 
other  leading  spirits  of  the  age,  he  sat  in  the  judgment-seat 
when  Charles  Stuart  was  arraigned  at  the  bar,  and  sub- 
scribed the  sentence  that  went  forth  upon  him/^ 

''I  have  ever  heard,"  said  Julian,  in  an  altered  voice,  and 
coloring  deeply,  "  that  you.  Master  Bridgenorth,  with  the 
other  Presbyterians,  were  totally  averse  to  that  detestable 
crime,  and  were  ready  to  have  made  joint  cause  with  the 
Cavaliers  in  preventing  so  horrible  a  parricide." 

''If  it  were  so,"  replied  Bridgenorth,  "  we  have  been 
richly  rewarded  by  his  successor  ! " 

*' Rewarded!"  exclaimed  Julian.  "  Does  the  distinction 
of  good  and  evil,  and  our  obligation  to  do  the  one  and  for- 
bear the  other,  depend  on  the  reward  which  may  attach  to 
our  actions  ?" 

"  God  forbid  !  "  answered  Bridgenorth  ;  "yet  those  who 
view  the  havoc  which  this  house  of  Stuart  have  made  in  the 
church  and  state — the  tyranny  which  they  exercise  over 
men's  persons  and  consciences — may  well  doubt  whether  it 
be  lawful  to  use  weapons  in  their  defense.  Yet  you  hear  me 
not  praise,  or  even  vindicate,  the  death  of  the  King,  though 
so  far  deserved,  as  he  was  false  to  his  oath  as  a  prince  and 
magistrate.  I  only  tell  you  what  you  desired  to  know,  that 
Richard  Whalley,  one  of  the  late  King's  judges,  was  he  oi 
whom  1  have  just  been  speaking.  I  knew  his  lofty  brow, 
though  time  had  made  it  balder  and  higher  ;  his  gray  eye 
retained  all  its  luster ;  and  though  the  grizzled  beard 
covered  the  lower  part  of  his  face,  it  prevented  me  not  from 
recognizing  him.  The  scent  was  hot  after  him  for  his 
blood  ;  but,  by  the  assistance  of  those  friends  whom  Heaven 
had  raised  up  for  his  preservation,  he  was  concealed  care- 
fully, and  emerged  only  to  do  the  will  of  Providence  in  the 
matter  of  that  battle.  Perhaps  his  voice  may  be  heard  in 
the  field  once  more,  should  England  need  one  of  her  noblest 
hearts." 

"  Now,  God  forbid  ! "  said  Julian. 

"  Amen,"  returned  Bridgenorth.  "  May  God  avert  civil 
war,  and  pardon  those  whose  madness  would  bring  it 
on  ns !  *' 

There  was  a  long  pause,  during  which  Julian,  who  had 
»  See  Not©  IL 


158  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

scarce  lifted  his  eyes  towards  Alice,  stole  a  glance  in  that 
direction,  and  was  struck  by  the  deep  cast  of  melancholy 
which  had  stolen  over  features  to  which  a  cheerful,  if  not  a 
gay,  expression  was  most  natural.  So  soon  as  she  caught 
his  eye,  she  remarked,  and,  as  Julian  thought,  with  signifi- 
cance, that  the  shadows  were  lengthening  and  evening  com- 
ing on. 

He  heard ;  and  although  satisfied  that  she  hinted  at  his 
departure,  he  could  not,  upon  the  instant,  find  resolution 
to  break  the  spell  which  detained  him.  The  language  which 
Bridgenorth  held  was  not  only  new  and  alarming,  but  so 
contrary  to  the  maxims  in  which  he  was  brought  up,  that, 
as  a  son  of  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  he  would,  in 
another  case,  have  thought  himself  called  upon  to  dispute 
its  conclusions,  even  at  the  sword's  point.  But  Bridge- 
north's  opinions  were  delivered  with  so  much  calmness — 
seemed  so  much  the  result  of  conviction — that  they  excited 
in  Julian  rather  a  spirit  of  wonder  than  of  angry  contro- 
versy. There  was  a  character  of  sober  decision  and  sedate 
melancholy  in  all  that  he  said  which,  even  had  he  not  been 
the  father  of  Alice  (and  perhaps  Julian  was  not  himself 
aware  how  much  he  was  influenced  by  that  circumstance), 
would  have  rendered  it  difficult  to  take  personal  offense. 
His  language  and  sentiments  were  of  that  quiet  yet  decided 
kind  upon  which  it  is  difficult  either  to  fix  controversy  or 
quarrel,  although  it  be  impossible  to  acquiesce  in  the  con- 
clusions to  which  they  lead. 

While  Julian  remained  as  if  spell-bound  to  his  chair, 
scarce  more  surprised  at  the  company  in  which  he  found 
himself  than  at  the  opinions  to  which  he  was  listening,  an- 
other circumstance  reminded  him  that  the  proper  time  of 
his  stay  at  Black  Fort  had  been  expended.  Little  Fairy, 
the  Manx  pony,  which,  well  accustomed  to  the  vicinity  of 
Black  Fort,  used  to  feed  near  the  house  while  her  master 
made  his  visits  there,  began  to  find  his  present  stay  rather 
too  long.  She  had  been  the  gift  of  the  countess  to  Julian 
whilst  a  youth,  and  came  of  a  high-spirited  mountain  breed, 
remarkable  alike  for  hardiness,  for  longevity,  and  for  a 
degree  of  sagacity  approaching  to  that  of  the  dog.  Fairy 
showed  the  latter  quality  by  the  way  in  which  she  chose  to 
express  her  impatience  to  be  moving  homewards.  At  least 
such  seemed  the  purpose  of  the  shrill  neigh  with  which  she 
startled  the  female  inmates  of  the  parlor,  who,  the  moment 
afterwards,  could  not  forbear  smiling  to  see  the  nose  of  the 
pony  advanced  through  the  opened  casement. 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  159 

*'  Fairy  reminds  me/'  said  Julian,  looking  to  Alice  and 
rising,  "  that  the  term  of  my  stay  here  is  exhausted/' 

''  Speak  with  me  yet  one  moment,"  said  Bridgenorth, 
withdrawing  him  into  a  Gothic  recess  of  the  old-fashioned 
apartment,  and  speaking  so  low  that  he  could  not  be  over- 
heard by  Alice  and  her  governante,  who,  in  the  meantime, 
caressed,  and  fed  with  fragments  of  bread  the  intruder 
Fairy. 

"  You  have  not,  after  all,"  said  Bridgenorth,  '*  told  me 
the  cause  of  your  coming  hither."  He  stopped,  as  if  to  en- 
joy his  embarrassment,  and  then  added,  *^And  indeed  it 
were  most  unnecessary  that  you  should  do  so.  I  have  not 
so  far  forgotten  the  days  of  my  youth,  or  those  affections 
which  bind  poor  frail  humanity  but  too  much  to  the  things 
of  this  world.  Will  you  find  no  words  to  ask  of  me  the 
great  boon  which  you  seek,  and  which,  peradventure,  you 
would  not  have  hesitated  to  make  your  own  without  my 
knowledge  and  against  my  consent  ?  Nay,  never  vindicate 
thyself,  but  mark  me  farther.  The  patriarch  bought  his 
beloved  by  fourteen  years'  hard  service  to  her  father,  Laban, 
and  they  seemed  to  him  but  as  a  few  days.  But  he  that 
would  wed  my  daughter  must  serve,  in  comparison,  but  a 
few  days,  though  in  matters  of  such  mighty  import,  that 
they  shall  seem  as  the  service  of  many  years.  Reply  not  to 
me  now,  but  go,  and  peace  be  with  you." 

He  retired  so  quickly,  after  speaking,  that  Peveril  had 
literally  not  an  instant  to  reply.  He  cast  his  eyes  around 
the  apartment,  but  Deborah  and  her  charge  had  also  disap- 
peared. His  gaze  rested  for  a  moment  on  the  portrait  of 
Christian,  and  his  imagination  suggested  that  his  dark  fea- 
tures were  illuminated  by  a  smile  of  haughty  triumph.  He 
started  and  looked  more  attentively  ;  it  was  but  the  effect 
of  the  evening  beam,  which  touched  the  picture  at  the  in- 
stant. The  effect  was  gone,  and  there  remained  but  the 
fixed,  grave,  inflexible  features  of  the  republican  soldier. 

Julian  left  the  apartment  as  one  who  walks  in  a  dream  ; 
he  mounted  Fairy,  and,  agitated  by  a  variety  of  thoughts 
which  he  was  unable  to  reduce  to  order,  he  returned  to 
Castle  Rushin  before  the  night  sat  down. 

Here  he  found  all  in  movement.  The  countess,  with  her 
son,  had,  upon  some  news  received  or  resolution  formed  dur- 
ing his  absence,  removed,  with  a  principal  part  of  their 
family,  to  the  yet  stronger  castle  of  Holm-Peel,  about  eight 
miles'  distance  across  the  island  ;  and  which  had  been  suf- 
fered to  fall  into  a  much  more  dilapidated  condition  than 


160  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

that  of  Castletown,  so  far  as  it  conld  be  considered  as  a  place 
of  residence.  But  as  a  fortress  Holm-Peel  was  stronger  than 
Castletown  ;  nay,  unless  assailed  regularly,  was  almost  im- 
pregnable ;  and  was  always  held  by  a  garrison  belonging  to 
the  Lords  of  Man.  Here  Peveril  arrived  at  nightfall.  He 
was  told  in  the  fishing  village  that  the  night-bell  of  the 
castle  had  been  rung  earlier  than  usual,  and  the  watch  set 
with  circumstances  of  unusual  and  jealous  precaution. 

Eesolving,  therefore,  not  to  disturb  the  garrison  by  enter- 
ing at  that  late  hour,  he  obtained  an  indift'erent  lodging  in 
the  town  for  the  night,  and  determined  to  go  to  castle  early 
on  the  succeeding  morning.  He  was  not  sorry  thus  to  gain 
a  few  hours  of  solitude,  to  think  over  the  agitating  events  of 
the  preceding  day. 

'.•if    ^)iir 


uh^lhih 


CHAPTER  XV 

What  seem'd  its  head, 
The  likeness  of  a  kingly  crowu  had  on. 

Paradise  Lost. 

SoDOE,  or  Holm-Peel,*  so  is  named  the  castle  which  our 
Julian  directed  his  course  early  on  the  following  morning, 
is  one  of  those  extraordinary  monuments  of  antiquity  with 
which  this  singular  and  interesting  island  abounds.  It  oc- 
cupies the  whole  of  a  high  rocky  peninsula,  or  rather  an 
island,  for  it  is  surrounded  by  the  sea  at  high-water,  and 
scarcely  accessible  even  when  the  tide  is  out,  although  a 
stone  causeway  of  great  solidity,  erected  for  the  express  pur- 
pose, connects  the  island  with  the  mainland.  The  whole 
space  is  surrounded  by  double  walls  of  great  strength  and 
thickness ;  and  the  access  to  the  interior,  at  the  time 
which  we  treat  of,  was  only  by  two  flights  of  steep  and  narrow 
steps,  divided  from  each  other  by  a  strong  tower  and  guard- 
house, under  the  former  of  which  there  is  an  entrance  arch. 
The  open  space  within  the  walls  extends  to  two  acres,  and 
contains  many  objects  worthy  of  antiquarian  curiosity. 
There  were,  besides  the  castle  itself,  two  cathedral  churches, 
dedicated,  the  earlier  to  St.  Patrick,  the  latter  to  St.  Ger- 
main, besides  two  smaller  churches  ;  all  of  which  had  become, 
even  in  that  day,  more  or  less  ruinous.  Their  decayed  walls, 
exhibiting  the  rude  and  massive  architecture  of  the  most 
remote  period,  were  composed  of  a  ragged  graystone,  which 
formed  a  singular  contrast  with  the  bright  red  freestone  of 
which  the  window-cases,  corner-stones,  arches,  and  other 
ornamental  parts  of  the  building  were  composed. 

Besides  these  four  ruinous  churches,  the  space  of  ground 
inclosed  by  the  massive  exterior  walls  of  Holm-Peel  exhibited 
many  other  vestiges  of  the  olden  time.  There  was  a  square 
mound  of  earth,  facing,  with  its  angles  to  the  points  of  the 
compass,  one  of  those  motes,  as  they  were  called,  on  which, 
in  ancient  times,  the  Northern  tribes  elected  or  recognized 
their  chiefs,  and  held  their  solemn  popular  assemblies  or 
comitia.  There  was  also  one  of  those  singular  towers,  so 
common  in  Ireland  as  to  have  proved  the  favorite  theme  of 

♦See  Note  13. 
II  161 


162  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

her  antiquaries,  but  of  which  the  real  use  and  meaning  seem 
yet  to  be  hidden  in  the  mist  of  ages.  This  of  Holm-Peel 
had  been  converted  to  the  purpose  of  a  watch-tower.  There 
were,  besides,  Runic  monuments,  of  which  the  legends  could 
not  be  deciphered  ;  and  later  inscriptions  to  the  memory  of 
champions  of  whom  the  names  only  were  preserved  from 
oblivion.  But  tradition  and  superstitious  eld,  still  most 
busy  where  real  history  is  silent,  had  filled  up  the  long  blank 
of  accurate  information  with  tales  of  sea-kings  and  pirates, 
Hebridean  chiefs  and  Norwegian  resolutes,  who  had  formerly 
warred  against,  and  in  defense  of,  this  famous  castle.  Su- 
perstition, too,  had  her  tales  of  goblins,  ghosts,  and  specters, 
her  legends  of  saints  and  demons,  of  fairies  and  of  familiar 
spirits,  which  in  no  corner  of  the  British  empire  are  told  and 
received  with  more  absolute  credulity  than  in  the  Isle  of  Man. 

Amidst  all  these  ruins  of  an  older  time  arose  the  castle  it- 
self, now  ruinous  ;  but  in  Charles  II. 's  reign  well  garrisoned, 
and,  in  a  military  point  of  view,  kept  in  complete  order.  It 
was  a  venerable  and  very  ancient  building,  containing  several 
apartments  of  sufficient  size  and  height  to  be  termed  noble. 
But,  in  the  surrender  of  the  island  by  Christian,  the  furni- 
ture had  been,  in  a  great  measure,  plundered  or  destroyed  by 
the  Republican  soldiers ;  so  that,  as  we  have  before  hinted, 
its  present  state  was  ill  adapted  for  the  residence  of  the  noble 
proprietor.  Yet  it  had  been  often  the  abode,  not  only  of  the 
Lords  of  Man,  but  of  those  state  prisoners  whom  the  Kings 
of  Britain  sometimes  committed  to  their  charge. 

In  this  castle  of  Holm-Peel  the  great  King-Maker,  Richard 
Earl  of  Warwick,  was  confined  during  one  period  of  his 
eventful  life,  to  ruminate  at  leisure  on  his  farther  schemes 
of  ambition.  And  here,  too,  Eleanor,  the  haughty  wife  of 
the  good  Duke  of  Gloucester,  pined  out  in  seclusion  the  last 
days  of  her  banishment.  The  sentinels  pretended  that  her 
discontented  specter  was  often  visible  at  night,  traversing 
the  battlements  of  the  external  walls,  or  standing  motionless 
beside  a  particular  solitary  turret  of  one  of  the  watch-towers 
with  which  they  are  flanked  ;  but  dissolving  into  air  at  cock- 
crow, or  when  the  bell  tolled  from  the  yet  remaining  tower 
of  St.  Germain's  church. 

Such  was  Holm -Peel,  as  records  inform  us,  till  towards 
the  end  of  the  17th  century. 

It  was  in  one  of  the  lofty  but  almost  unfurnished  apart- 
ments of  this  ancient  castle  that  Julian  Peveril  found  his 
friend  the  Earl  of  Derby,  who  had  that  moment  sat  down  to 
a  breakfast  composed  of  various  sorts  of  fish.     "  Welcome, 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  163 

most  imperial  Julian/'  he  said — ^'  welcome  to  our  royal  for- 
tress ;  in  which,  as  yet,  we  are  not  like  to  be  starved  with 
hunger  though  wellnigh  dead  for  cold/' 

Julian  answered  by  inquiring  the  meaning  of  this  sudden 
movement. 

"  Upon  my  word,''  replied  the  earl,  '^  you  know  nearly  as 
much  of  it  as  I  do.  My  mother  has  told  me  nothing  about 
it,  supposing,  I  believe,  that  I  shall  at  length  be  tempted  to 
inquire  ;  but  she  will  find  herself  much  mistaken.  I  shall 
give  her  credit  for  full  wisdom  in  her  proceedings,  rather 
than  put  her  to  the  trouble  to  render  a  reason,  though  no 
woman  can  render  one  better." 

"  Come — come,  this  is  affectation,  my  good  friend,"  said 
Julian.  "  You  should  inquire  into  these  matters  a  little 
more  curiously." 

"  To  what  purpose  ?  "  said  the  earl.  ''  To  hear  old  stories 
about  the  Tinwald  laws,  and  the  contending  rights  of  the 
lords  and  the  clergy,  and  all  the  rest  of  that  Celtic  barbarism, 
which,  like  Burgess's  *  thorough-paced  doctrine,  enters  at 
one  ear,  passes  through  and  goes  out  at  the  other  ?" 

'^  Come,  my  lord,"  said  Julian,  ^^you  are  not  so  indifferent 
as  you  would  represent  yourself  :  you  are  dying  of  curiosity 
to  know  what  this  hurry  is  about ;  only  you  think  it  the 
courtly  humor  to  appear  careless  about  your  own  affairs." 

*'Why,  what  should  it  be  about,"  said  the  young  earl, 
"  unless  some  factious  dispute  between  our  Majesty's  minis- 
tor,  Grovernor  Nowel,  and  our  vassals  ?  or  perhaps  some  dis- 
pute betwixt  our  Majesty  and  the  ecclesiastical  jurisdictions? 
for  all  which,  our  Majesty  cares  as  little  as  any  king  in 
Christendom." 

"  I  rather  suppose  these  is  intelligence  from  England," 
said  Julian.  "  I  heard  last  night  in  Peeltown  that  Green- 
halgh  is  come  over  with  unpleasant  news." 

**  He  brought  me  nothing  that  was  pleasant,  I  wot  well," 
said  the  earl.  ''  I  expected  something  from  St.  Evremond 
or  Hamilton,  some  new  plays  by  Dryden  or  Lee,  and  some 
waggery  or  lampoons  from  the  Kose  Coffee-house  ;  and  the 
fellow  has  brought  me  nothing  but  a  parcel  of  tracts  about 
Protestants  and  Papists,  and  a  folio  play-book,  one  of  the 
conceptions,  as  she  calls  them,  of  that  old  madwoman  the 
Duchess  of  Newcastle."  f 

*  Anthony  Burgess  was  a  Nonconformist  preacher  and  voluminous 
writer,  who  was  ejected  from  his  living  [Sutton  Coldfield  in  War- 
wickshire] at  the  Restoration  (Laing). 

i  See  Note  13.  '' 


164  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  Hush,  my  lord,  for  Heaven^s  sake,"  said  Peveril ; 
*'here  comes  the  countess  ;  and  you  know  she  takes  fire  at 
the  least  slight  to  her  ancient  friend." 

"  Let  her  read  her  ancient  friend's  works  herself,  then," 
said  the  earl,  ''  and  think  her  as  wise  as  she  can ;  but  I 
would  not  give  one  of  Waller's  songs  or  Denham's  satires 
for  a  whole  cart-load  of  her  Grace's  trash.  But  here  comes 
our  mother,  with  care  on  her  brow." 

The  Countess  of  Derby  entered  the  apartment  accord- 
ingly, holding  in  her  hand  a  number  of  papers.  Her  dress 
was  a  mourning-habit,  with  a  deep  train  of  black  velvet, 
which  was  borne  by  a  little  favorite  attendant,  a  deaf  and 
dumb  girl,  whom,  in  compassion  to  her  misfortune,  the 
countess  had  educated  about  her  person  for  some  years. 
Upon  this  unfortunate  being,  with  the  touch  of  romance 
which  marked  many  of  her  proceedings.  Lady  Derby  had 
conferred  the  name  of  Fenella,  after  some  ancient  princess 
of  the  island.  The  countess  herself  was  not  much  changed 
since  we  last  presented  her  to  our  readers.  Age  had  ren- 
dered her  step  more  slow,  but  not  less  majestic  ;  and  while 
it  traced  some  wrinkles  on  her  brow,  had  failed  to  quench 
the  sedate  fire  of  her  dark  eye.  The  youug  men  rose  to 
receive  her  with  the  formal  reverence  which  they  knew  she 
loved,  and  were  greeted  by  her  with  equal  kindness. 

^*  Cousin  Peveril,"  she  said,  for  so  she  always  called  Julian, 
in  respect  of  his  mother  being  a  kinswoman  of  her  husband, 
'^  you  were  ill  abroad  last  night,  when  we  much  needed  your 
counsel." 

Julian  answered  with  a  blush  which  he  could  not  prevent, 
'^  That  he  had  followed  his  sport  among  the  mountains  too 
far,  had  returned  late,  and,  finding  her  ladyship  was  re- 
moved from  Castletown,  had  instantly  followed  the  family 
hither ;  but  as  the  night-bell  was  rung  and  the  watch  set, 
he  had  deemed  it  more  respectful  to  lodge  for  the  night  in 
the  town." 

'^It  is  well,"  said  the  countess  ;  '^and,  to  do  you  justice, 
Julian,  you  are  seldom  a  truant  neglecter  of  appointed 
hours,  though,  like  the  rest  of  the  youth  of  this  age,  you 
sometimes  suffer  your  sports  to  consume  too  much  of  time 
that  should  be  spent  otherwise.  But  for  your  friend  Philip, 
he  is  an  avowed  contemner  of  good  order,  and  seems  to  find 
pleasure  in  wasting  time,  even  when  he  does  not  enjoy  it." 

^'  I  have  been  enjoying  my  time  just  now  at  least,"  said 
the  earl,  rising  from  table,  and  picking  his  teeth  carelessly. 
**  These  fresh  mullets  are  delicious,  and  so  is  the  Lachrymae 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  165 

Christi.  I  pray  you  to  sit  down  to  breakfast,  Julian,  and 
partake  the  goods  my  royal  foresight  has  provided.  Never 
was  King  of  Man  nearer  being  left  to  the  mercy  of  the  ex- 
ecrable brandy  of  his  dominions.  Old  Griffiths  would  never, 
in  the  midst  of  our  speedy  retreat  of  last  night,  have  had 
sense  enough  to  secure  a  few  flasks,  had  I  not  given  him  a 
hint  on  that  important  subject.  But  presence  of  mind  amid 
danger  and  tumult  is  a  jewel  I  have  always  possessed. '^ 

"  I  wish,  then,  Philip,  you  would  exert  it  to  better  pur- 
pose,'' said  the  countess,  half  smiling,  half  displeased  ;  for 
she  doted  upon  her  son  with  all  a  mother's  fondness,  even 
when  she  was  most  angry  with  him  for  being  deficient  in 
the  peculiar  and  chivalrous  disposition  which  had  distin- 
guished his  father,  and  which  was  so  analogous  to  her  own 
romantic  and  high-minded  character.  ''  Lend  me  your  sig- 
net," she  added  with  a  sigh  ;  ''  for  it  were,  I  fear,  vain  to 
ask  you  to  read  over  these  despatches  from  England,  and 
execute  the  warrants  which  I  have  thought  necessary  to  pre- 
pare in  consequence." 

*'  My  signet  you  shall  command  with  all  my  heart,  mad- 
am," said  Earl  Philip  ;  "  but  spare  me  the  revision  of  what 
you  are  much  more  capable  to  decide  upon.  I  am,  you 
know,  a  most  complete  roi  faineant,  and  never  once  inter- 
fered with  my  maire  de  palais  in  her  proceedings." 

The  countess  made  signs  to  her  little  train-bearer,  who 
immediately  went  to  seek  for  wax  and  a  light,  with  which 
she  presently  returned. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  countess  continued,  addressing 
Peveril — '^  Philip  does  himself  less  than  justice.  When  you 
were  absent,  Julian,  for  if  you  had  been  here  I  would  have 
given  you  the  credit  of  prompting  your  friend,  he  had  a 
spirited  controversy  with  the  bishop,  for  an  attempt  to  en- 
force spiritual  censures  against  a  poor  wretch,  by  confining 
her  in  the  vault  under  the  chapel."* 

"  Do  not  think  better  of  me  than  I  deserve,"  said  the  earl 
to  Peveril ;  "  my  mother  has  omitted  to  tell  you  the  culprit 
was  pretty  Peggy  of  Kamsey,  and  her  crime  what  in  Cupid's 
courts  would  have  been  called  a  peccadillo." 

"Do  not  make  yourself  worse  than  you  are,"  replied 
Peveril,  who  observed  the  countess's  cheek  redden ;  *'  you 
know  you  would  have  done  as  much  for  the  oldest  and 
poorest  cripple  in  the  island.  Why,  the  vault  is  under  the 
burial-ground  of  the  chapel,  and,  for  aught  I  know,  under 

*  See  PriBon  iinder  Church.    Note  14. 


Id6  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  ocean  itself,  such  a  roaring  do  the  waves  make  in  its 
vicinity.  I  think  no  one  could  remain  there  long  and  retain 
his  reason/' 

*'  It  is  an  infernal  hole,"  answered  the  earl,  "  and  I  will 
have  it  built  up  one  day,  that  is  full  certain.  But  hold — 
hold  ;  for  God  s  sake,  madam,  what  are  you  going  to  do  ? 
Look  at  the  seal  before  you  put  it  to  the  warrant ;  you  will 
see  it  is  a  choice  antique  cameo,  Cupid  riding  on  a  flying 
fish.  I  had  it  for  twenty  zechins  from  Signer  Furabosco  at 
Eome — a  most  curious  matter  for  an  antiquary,  but  which 
will  add  little  faith  to  a  Manx  warrant." 

''How  can  you  trifle  thus,  you  simple  boy?"  said  the 
countess,  with  vexation  in  her  tone  and  look.  ''  Let  me 
have  your  signet ;  or  rather,  take  these  warrants  and  sign 
them  yourself." 

''  My  signet — ^my  signet.  Oh  !  you  mean  that  with  the 
three  monstrous  legs,  which  I  suppose  was  devised  as  the 
most  preposterous  devise  to  represent  our  most  absurd 
Majesty  of  Man.  The  signet — I  have  not  seen  it  since  I 
gave  it  to  Gibbon,  my  monkey,  to  play  with.  He  did  whine 
for  it  most  piteously.  I  hope  he  has  not  gemmed  the  green 
breast  of  ocean  with  my  symbol  of  sovereignty  ! " 

"  Now,  by  Heaven,"  said  the  countess,  trembling  and  col- 
oring deeply  with  anger,  "  it  was  your  father's  signet,  the 
last  pledge  which  he  sent,  with  his  love  to  me  and  his  bless- 
ing to  thee,  the  night  before  they  murdered  him  at  Bolton  ! " 

''  Mother — dearest  mother,"  said  the  earl,  startled  out  of 
his  apathy,  and  taking  her  hand,  which  he  kissed  tenderly, 
*'  I  did  but  jest :  the  signet  is  safe — Peveril  knows  that  it  is 
so.  Go  fetch  it,  Julian,  for  Heaven's  sake,  here  are  my 
keys  ;  it  is  in  the  left-hand  drawer  of  my  traveling-cabinet. 
Nay,  mother,  forgive  me,  it  was  but  a  mauvaise  plaisanterie 
— only  an  ill-imagined  jest — ungracious,  and  in  bad  taste,  ] 
allow,  but  only  one  of  Philip's  follies.  Look  at  me,  dearest 
mother,  and  forgive  me  ! " 

The  countess  turned  her  eyes  towards  him,  from  which 
the  tears  were  fast  falling. 

''  Philip,"  she  said,  "  you  try  me  too  unkindly  and  too 
severely.  If  times  are  changed,  as  I  have  heard  you  allege 
— if  the  dignity  of  rank,  and  the  high  feelings  of  honor  and 
duty,  are  now  drowned  in  giddy  jests  and  trifling  pursuits- 
let  me  at  least,  who  live  secluded  from  all  others,  die  without 
perceiving  the  change  which  has  happened,  and,  above  all, 
without  perceiving  it  in  mine  own  son.  Let  me  not  lean? 
the  general  prevalence  of  this  levity,  which  laughs  at  everj 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  167 

sense  of  dignity  or  duty,  through  your  personal  disrespect. 
Let  me  not  think  that  when  I  die " 

**  Speak  nothing  of  it,  mother,'^  said  the  earl,  interrupt- 
ing her  affectionately.  "  It  is  true,  I  cannot  promise  to  be 
all  my  father  and  his  fathers  were  ;  for  we  wear  silk  vests 
for  their  steel  coats,  and  feathered  beavers  for  their  crested 
helmets.  But  believe  me,  though  to  be  an  absolute  Palmerin 
of  England  is  not  in  my  nature,  no  son  ever  loved  a  mother 
more  dearly,  or  would  do  more  to  oblige  her.  And  that  you 
may  own  this,  I  will  forthwith  not  only  seal  the  warrants, 
to  the  great  endangerment  of  my  precious  fingers,  but  also 
read  the  same  from  end  to  end,  as  well  as  the  despatches 
thereunto  appertaining. '^ 

A  mother  is  easily  appeased,  even  when  most  offended  ; 
and  it  was  with  an  expanding  heart  that  the  countess  saw 
her  son's  very  handsome  features,  while  reading  these  papers, 
settle  into  an  expression  of  deep  seriousness,  such  as  they 
seldom  wore.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if  the  family  likeness  to 
his  gallant  but  unfortunate  father  increased  when  the  ex- 
pression of  their  countenances  became  similar  in  gravity. 
The  earl  had  no  sooner  perused  the  despatches,  which  he 
did  with  great  attention,  than  he  rose  and  said,  "  Julian, 
come  with  me.'' 

The  countess  looked  surprised.  '^  I  was  wont  to  share 
your  father's  counsels,  my  son,"  she  said  ;  ''  but  do  not  think 
that  I  wish  to  intrude  myself  upon  yours.  I  am  too  well 
pleased  to  see  you  assume  the  power  and  the  duty  of  think- 
mg  for  yourself,  which  is  what  I  have  so  long  urged  you  to 
do.  Nevertheless,  my  experience,  who  have  been  so  long 
administrator  of  your  authority  in  Man,  might  not,  I  think, 
be  superfluous  to  the  matter  in  hand." 

"  Hold  me  excused,  dearest  mother,"  said  the  earl,  gravely. 
"  The  interference  was  none  of  my  seeking  ;  had  you  taken 
your  own  course,  without  consulting  me,  it  had  been  well ; 
but  since  I  have  entered  on  the  affair — and  it  appears  suffi- 
ciently important — I  must  transact  it  to  the  best  of  my 
own  ability." 

"  Go,  then,  my  son,"  said  the  countess,  *'  and  may  Heaven 
enlighten  thee  .with  its  counsel,  since  thou  wilt  have  none  of 
mine.  I  trust  that  you.  Master  Peveril,  will  remind  him  of 
what  .is  fit  for  his  own  honor;  and  that  only  a  coward 
abandons  his  rights,  and  only  a  fool  trusts  his  enemies." 

The  earl  answered  not,  but,  taking  Peveril  by  the  arm,  led 
him  up  a  winding  stair  to  his  own  apartment,  and  from  thence 
into  a  projecting  turret,  where,  amidst  the  roar  of  waves  and 


168  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sea-mews'  clang,  he  held  with  him  the  following  conversa- 
tion : — 

*^  Peveril,  it  is  well  I  looked  into  these  warrants.  My 
mother  queens  it  at  such  a  rate  as  may  cost  me  not  only  my 
crown,  which  I  care  little  for,  but  perhaps  my  head,  which, 
though  others  may  think  little  of  it,  1  would  feel  it  an 
inconvenience  to  be  deprived  of." 

''  What  on  earth  is  the  matter  ?  "  said  Peveril,  with  con- 
siderable anxiety. 

"  It  seems,''  said  the  Earl  of  Derby,  ''  that  Old  England, 
who  takes  a  frolicsome  brain-fever  every  two  or  three  years, 
for  the  benefit  of  her  doctors,  and  the  purification  of  his 
torpid  lethargy  brought  on  by  peace  and  prosperity,  is  now 
gone  stark  staring  mad  on  the  subject  of  a  real  or  supposed 
Popish  Plot.  I  read  one  program  on  the  subject,  by  a 
fellow  called  Gates,  and  thought  it  the  most  absurd  foolery 
I  ever  perused.  But  that  cunning  fellow  Shaftesbury,  and 
some  others  amongst  the  great  ones,  have  taken  it  up,  and 
are  driving  on  at  such  a  rate  as  makes  harness  crack  and 
horses  smoke  for  it.  The  King,  who  has  sworn  never  to  kiss 
the  pillow  his  father  went  to  sleep  on,  temporizes  and  gives 
way  to  the  current  ;  the  Duke  of  York,  suspected  and  hated 
on  account  of  his  religion,  is  about  to  be  driven  to  the  Con- 
tinent ;  several  principal  Catholic  nobles  are  in  the  tower  al- 
ready ;  and  the  nation,  like  a  bull  at  Tutbury  running,  is 
persecuted  with  so  many  inflammatory  rumors  and  pestilent 
pamphlets  that  she  has  cocked  her  tail,  flung  up  her  heels, 
taken  the  bit  between  her  teeth,  and  is  as  furiously  unman- 
ageable as  in  the  year  1642." 

''  All  this  you  must  have  known  already,''  said  Peveril ; 
''I  wonder  you  told  me  not  of  news  so  important." 

"  It  would  have  taken  long  to  tell,"  said  the  earl ;  "  more- 
over, I  desired  to  have  you  solus ;  thirdly,  I  was  about  to 
speak  when  my  mother  entered  ;  and,  to  conclude,  it  was  no 
business  of  mine.  But  these  despatches  of  my  politic  moth- 
er's private  correspondent  put  a  new  face  on  the  whole  mat- 
ter ;  for  it  seems  some  of  the  informers — a  trade  which, 
having  become  a  thriving  one,  is  now  pursued  by  many — 
have  dared  to  glance  at  the  countess  herself  as  an  agent  in 
this  same  plot — ay,  and  have  found  those  that  are  willing 
enough  to  believe  their  report." 

"On  my  honor,"  said  Peveril,  ''you  both  take  it  with 
great  coolness.  I  think  the  countess  the  more  composed  of 
the  two  ;  for,  except  her  movement  hither,  she  exhibited  no 
mark  of  alarm,  and,  moreover,  seemed  no  way  more  anxious 


PEVERtL  OF  THE  PEAK  l6S 

to  communicate  the  matter  to  your  lordship  than  decency 
rendered  necessary/^ 

*'  My  good  mother/'  said  the  earl,  "  loves  power,  though 
it  has  cost  her  dear.  I  wish  I  could  truly  say  that  my  neg- 
lect of  business  is  entirely  assumed  in  order  to  leave  it  in 
lier  hands,  but  that  better  motive  combines  with  natural  in- 
dolence. But  she  seems  to  have  feared  I  should  not  think 
exactly  like  her  in  this  emergency,  and  she  was  right  in  sup- 
posing so." 

"  How  comes  the  emergency  upon  you  ?  '^  said  Julian ; 
'*  and  what  form  does  the  danger  assume  ?" 

*^  Marry,  thus  it  is,"  said  the  earl  :  '^1  need  not  bid  yon 
remember  the  affair  of  Colonel  Christian.  That  man,  be- 
sides his  widow,  who  is  possessed  of  large  property — Dame 
Christian  of  Kirk-Truagh,  whom  you  have  often  heard  of, 
and  perhaps  seen — left  a  brother  called  Edward  Christian, 
whom  you  never  saw  at  all.  Now  this  brother — but  I  dare- 
say you  know  all  about  it  ?" 

''Not  I,  on  my  honor,"  said  Peveril  ;  "you  know  the 
countess  seldom  or  never  alludes  to  the  subject." 

"  Why,"  replied  the  earl,  "  I  believe  in  her  heart  she  is 
something  ashamed  of  that  gallant  act  of  royalty  and  supreme 
jurisdiction,  the  consequences  of  which  maimed  my  estate  so 
cruelly.  Well,  cousin,  this  same  Edward  Christian  was  one 
of  the  dempsters  at  the  time,  and,  naturally  enough  was  un- 
willing to  concur  in  the  sentence  which  adjudged  his  aine  to 
be  shot  like  a  dog.  My  mother,  who  was  then  in  high  force, 
and  not  to  be  controlled  by  any  one,  would  have  served  the 
dempster  with  the  same  sauce  with  which  she  dressed  his 
brother,  had  he  not  been  wise  enough  to  fly  from  the  island. 
Since  that  time,  the  thing  has  slept  on  all  hands  ;  and  though 
we  knew  that  Dempster  Christian  made  occasionally  secret 
visits  to  his  friends  in  the  island,  along  with  two  or  three 
other  Puritans  of  the  same  stamp,  and  particularly  a  prick- 
eared  rogue  called  Bridgenorth,  brother-in-law  to  the  de- 
ceased, yet  my  mother,  thank  Heaven,  has  hitherto  had  the 
sense  to  connive  at  them,  though,  for  some  reason  or  other, 
she  holds  this  Bridgenorth  in  especial  disfavor." 

'*^And  why,"  said  Peveril,  forcing  himself  to  speak.  In 
order  to  conceal  the  very  unpleasant  surprise  which  he  felt 
— "  why  does  the  countess  now  depart  from  so  prudent  a 
line  of  conduct  ?  " 

''  You  must  know  the  case  is  now  different.  The  rogues 
are  not  satisfied  with  toleration  :  they  would  have  supremacy. 
They  have  found  friends  in  the  present  heat  of  the  popular 


170  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

mind.  My  mother's  name,  and  especially  that  of  her  con- 
fessor, Aldrick  the  Jesuit,  have  been  mentioned  in  this 
beautiful  maze  of  a  plot,  which,  if  any  such  at  all  exists,  she 
knows  as  little  of  as  you  or  I.  However,  she  is  a  Catholic, 
and  that  is  enough  ;  and  I  have  little  doubt  that,  if  the  fel- 
lows could  seize  on  our  scrap  of  a  kingdom  here,  and  cut  all 
our  throats,  they  would  have  the  thanks  of  the  present  House 
of  Commons,  as  willingly  as  old  Christian  had  those  of  the 
Rump  for  a  similar  service/' 

''  From  whence  did  you  receive  all  this  information  ?  "  said 
Peveril,  again  speaking,  though  by  the  same  effort  which  a 
man  makes  who  talks  in  his  sleep. 

"^Aldrick  has  seen  the  Duke  of  York  in  secret,  and  his 
Eoyal  Highness,  who  wept  while  he  confessed  his  want  of 
power  to  protect  his  friends — and  it  is  no  trifle  will  wring 
tears  from  him— told  him  to  send  us  information  that  we 
should  look  to  our  safety,  for  that  Dempster  Christian  and 
Bridgenorth  were  in  the  island,  with  secret  and  severe 
orders ;  that  they  had  formed  a  considerable  party  there, 
and  were  likely  to  be  owned  and  protected  in  anything  thoy 
might  undertake  against  us.  The  people  of  Ramsay  and 
Castletown  are  unluckily  discontented  about  some  new  reg- 
ulation of  the  imposts  ;  and,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  though 
I  thought  yesterday's  sudden  remove  a  whim  of  my  mother's, 
I  am  almost  satisfied  they  would  have  blockaded  us  in 
Rushin  Castle,  where  we  could  not  have  held  out  for  lack  oi 
provisions.  Here  we  are  better  supplied,  and,  as  we  are  on 
our  guard,  it  is  likely  the  intended  rising  will  not  take  place.'* 

*'  And  what  is  to  be  done  in  this  emergency  ? "  said 
Peveril. 

'*  That  is  the  very  question,  my  gentle  coz,"  answered  th^ 
earl.  "  My  mother  sees  but  one  way  of  going  to  work,  and 
that  is  by  royal  authority.  Here  are  the  warrants  she  had 
prepared,  to  search  for,  take,  and  apprehend  the  bodies  of 
Edward  Christian  and  Robert — no,  Ralph  Bridgenorth,  and 
bring  them  to  instant  trial.  No  doubt,  she  would  soon  have 
had  them  in  the  castle  court,  with  a  dozen  of  the  old  match- 
locks leveled  against  them — that  is  her  way  of  solving  all 
sudden  difficulties." 

'*  But  in  which,  I  trust,  you  do  not  acquiesce,  my  lord," 
answered  Peveril,  whose  thoughts  instantly  reverted  to  Alice, 
if  they  could  ever  he  said  to  be  absent  from  her. 

''Truly,  I  acquiesce  in  no  such  matter,"  said  the  earl. 
"  William  Christian's  death  cost  me  a  fair  half  of  my  in- 
heritance ;  I  have  no  fancy  to  fall  under  the  displeasure  of 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  171 

my  royal  brother.  King  Charles,  for  a  new  escapade  of  the 
same  kind.  But  how  to  pacify  my  mother,  I  know  not.  I 
wish  the  insurrection  would  take  place,  and  then,  as  we  are 
better  provided  than  they  can  be,  we  might  knock  the  knaves 
on  the  head  ;  and  yet,  since  they  began  the  fray,  we  should 
keep  the  law  on  our  side." 

'*  Were  it  not  better,"  said  Peveril,  ^'  if  by  any  means 
these  men  could  be  induced  to  quit  the  island  ?  " 

"  Surely,"  replied  the  earl ;  ''  but  that  will  be  no  easy 
matter  :  they  are  stubborn  on  principle,  and  empty  threats 
will  not  move  them.  This  storm-blast  in  London  is  wind  in 
their  sails,  and  they  will  run  their  length,  you  may  depend 
on  it.  I  have  sent  orders,  however,  to  clap  up  the  Manxmen 
upon  whose  assistance  they  depended,  and  if  I  can  find  the 
two  worthies  themselves,  here  are  sloops  enough  in  the  har- 
bor :  I  will  take  the  freedom  to  send  them  on  a  pretty  distant 
voyage,  and  I  hope  matters  will  be  settled  before  they  return 
to  give  an  account  of  it." 

At  this  moment  a  soldier  belonging  to  the  garrison  ap- 
proached the  two  young  men,  with  many  bows  and  tokens  of 
respect.  ''  How  now,  friend  ? "  said  the  earl  to  him. 
*' Leave  off  thy  courtesies  and  tell  thy  business." 

The  man,  who  was  a  native  islander,  answered  in  Manx 
that  he  had  a  letter  for  his  honor.  Master  Julian  Peveril. 
Julian  snatched  the  billet  hastily,  and  asked  whence  it  came. 

"  It  was  delivered  to  him  by  a  young  woman,"  the  soldier 
replied,  ""  who  had  given  him  a  piece  of  money  to  deliver  it 
into  Master  Peveril^'s  own  hand." 

*^  Thou  art  a  lucky  fellow,  Julian,"  said  the  earl.  ''  "With 
that  grave  brow  of  thine,  and  thy  character  for  sobriety  and 
early  wisdom,  you  set  the  girls  a-wooing,  without  waiting  till 
they  are  asked  ;  whilst  I,  their  drudge  and  vassal,  waste  both 
language  and  leisure,  without  getting  a  kind  word  or  look, 
far  less  a  billet-doux." 

This  the  young  earl  said  with  a  smile  of  conscious  triumph, 
as  in  fact  he  valued  himself  not  a  little  upon  the  interest 
which  he  supposed  himself  to  possess  with  the  fair  sex. 

Meanwhile,  the  letter  impressed  on  Peveril  a  different  train 
of  thoughts  from  what  his  companion  apprehended.  It  was 
in  Alice's  hand,  and  contained  these  few  words  : — 

*'  I  fear  what  I  am  going  to  do  is  wrong  ;  but  I  must  see 
you.  Meet  me  at  noon  at  Goddard  Crovan^'s  Stone,  with  as 
much  secrecy  as  you  may." 

The  letter  was  signed  only  with  the  initials  "  A.  B."  ;  but 


172  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

Julian  had  no  difficnlty  in  recognizing  the  handwriting, 
which  he  had  often  seen,  and  which  was  remarkably  beauti- 
ful. He  stood  suspended,  for  he  saw  the  difficulty  and  im- 
propriety of  withdrawing  himself  from  the  countess  and  hia 
friend  at  this  moment  of  impending  danger  ;  and  yet  to 
neglect  this  invitation  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  He  paused 
in  the  utmost  perplexity. 

"  Shall  I  read  your  riddle  ?"  said  the  earl.  "  Go  where 
love  calls  you — I  will  make  an  excuse  to  my  mother  ;  only, 
most  grave  anchorite,  be  hereafter  more  indulgent  to  the 
failings  of  others  than  you  have  been  hitherto,  and  blas- 
pheme not  the  power  of  the  little  deity." 

''  Nay,  but,  cousin  Derby — -, — "  said  Peveril,  and  stopped 
short,  for  he  really  knew  not  what  to  say.  Secured  himself 
by  a  virtuous  passion  from  the  contagious  influence  of  the 
time,  he  had  seen  with  regret  his  noble  kinsman  mingle 
more  in  its  irregularities  that  he  approved  of,  and  had  some- 
times played  the  part  of  a  monitor. 

Circumstances  seemed  at  present  to  give  the  earl  a  right 
of  retaliation.  He  kept  his  eye  fixed  on  his  friend,  as  if  he 
waited  till  he  should  complete  his  sentence,  and  at  length 
exclaimed,  ^' What !  cousin,  quite  a  la  morti  0,  most  judi- 
cious Julian  !  0,  most  precise  Peveril  !  have  you  bestowed 
so  much  wisdom  on  me  that  you  have  none  left  for  yourself  r 
Come,  be  frank — tell  me  name  and  place,  or  say  but  the 
color  of  the  eyes  of  the  most  emphatic  she,  or  do  but  let  me 
have  the  pleasure  to  hear  thee  say,  ^  I  love  ! '  Confess  one 
touch  of  human  frailty,  conjugate  the  verb  amo,  and  I  will 
be  a  gentle  schoolmaster,  and  you  shall  have,  as  Fatha 
Richards  used  to  say,  when  we  were  under  his  ferule, 
*  Ucentia  exeundi.' 

*'  Enjoy  your  pleasant  humor  at  my  expense,  my  lord,^ 
said  Peveril.  *'  I  fairly  will  confess  thus  much,  that  I  would 
fain,  if  it  consisted  with  my  honor  and  your  safety,  have  two 
hours  at  my  own  disposal,  the  more  especially  as  the  manner 
in  which  I  shall  employ  them  may  much  concern  the  safety 
of  the  island." 

*'  Very  likely,  I  daresay,"  answered  the  earl,  still  laugh- 
ing. ''No  doubt  you  are  summoned  out  by  some  Lady 
Politic  Wouldbe  of  the  isle,  to  talk  over  some  of  the  breast- 
laws  ;  but  never  mind — gOj.  and  go  speedily,  that  you  may 
return  as  quick  as  possible.  I  expect  no  immediate  explo- 
sion of  this  grand  conspiracy.  When  the  rogues  see  us  on 
our  guard,  they  will  be  cautious  how  they  breakout.  Only, 
once  more,  make  haste/' 


PEVERtL  OF  THE  PEAK  ITS 

Peveril  thought  this  last  advice  was  not  to  be  neglected  ; 
and,  glad  to  extricate  himself  from  the  raillery  of  his  cousin, 
walked  down  towards  the  gate  of  the  castle,  meaning  to 
cross  over  to  the  village,  and  there  take  horse  at  the  earl'a 
stabies  for  the  place  of  rendezvous- 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Acasto,    Can  she  not  speak  ? 

Oswald.    If  speech  be  only  in  accnnted  sounds, 
Framed  by  the  tongue  and  lips,  the  maiden's  dumb ; 
But  if  by  quick  and  apprehensive  look, 
By  motion,  sign  and  glance,  to  give  each  meaning, 
Express  as  clothed  in  language,  be  term'd  speech, 
She  hath  that  wondrous  faculty  ;  for  her  eyes, 
Like  the  bright  stars  of  heaven,  can  hold  discourse, 
Though  it  be  mute  and  soundless. 

Old  Play, 

At  the  head  of  the  first  flight  of  steps  which  descended  to- 
wards the  difficult  ana  well-defended  entrance  of  the  Castle 
of  Holm-Peel,  Peveril  was  met  and  stopped  by  the  countess's 
train-bearer.  This  little  creature — for  she  was  of  the  least 
and  slightest  size  of  womankind — was  exquisitely  well  formed 
in  all  her  limbs,  which  the  dress  she  usually  wore,  a  green 
rfilk  tunic  of  a  peculiar  form,  set  off  to  the  best  advantage. 
Her  face  was  darker  than  the  usual  hue  of  Europeans  ;  and 
the  profusion  of  long  and  silken  hair  which,  when  she  undid 
the  braids  in  which  she  commonly  wore  it,  fell  down  almost 
to  her  ankles,  was  also  rather  a  foreign  attribute.  Her 
countenance  resembled  a  most  beautiful  miniature ;  and 
there  was  a  quickness,  decision,  and  fire  in  Fenella's  look, 
and  especially  in  her  eyes,  which  was  probably  rendered  yet 
more  alert  and  acute  because,  through  the  imperfection  of 
her  other  organs,  it  was  only  by  sight  that  she  could  obtain 
information  of  what  passed  around  her. 

The  pretty  mute  was  mistress  of  many  little  accomplish- 
ments, which  the  countess  had  caused  to  be  taught  to  her  in 
compassion  for  her  forlorn  situation,  and  which  she  learned 
with  the  most  surprising  quickness.  Thus,  for  example,  she 
was  exquisite  in  the  use  of  the  needle,  and  so  ready  and  in- 
genious a  draughtswoman,  that,  like  the  ancient  Mexicans, 
she  sometimes  made  a  hasty  sketch  with  her  pencil  the  means 
of  conveying  her  ideas,  either  by  direct  or  emblematical  rep- 
resentation. Above  all,  in  the  art  of  ornamental  writing, 
much  studied  at  that  period,  Fenella  was  so  great  a  profi- 
cient as  to  rival  the  fame  of  Messrs.  Snow,  Shelley^  and  other 
master  of  the  pen,  whose  copy-books,  preserved  In  the  li- 
braries of  the  curious,  still  show  the  artists  smiling  on  the 

174 


PEVEEIL  GF  THE  PEAK  175 

frontispiece  in  all  the    honors   of   flowing  gowns  and  full- 
bottomed  wigs,  to  the  eternal  glory  of  calligraphy. 

The  little  maiden  had,  besides  these  accomplishments, 
much  ready  wit  and  acuteness  of  intellect.  With  Lady 
Derby  and  with  the  two  young  gentlemen  she  was  a  great 
favorite,  and  used  much  freedom  in  conversing  with  them 
by  means  of  a  system  of  signs  which  had  been  gradually 
established  amongst  them,  and  which  served  all  ordinary 
purposes  of  communication. 

But,  though  happy  in  the  indulgence  and  favor  of  her 
mistress,  from  whom  indeed  she  was  seldom  separate,  Fenella 
was  by  no  means  a  favorite  with  the  rest  of  the  household. 
In  fact,  it  seemed  that  her  temper,  exasperated  perhaps  by   r 
a  sense  of  her  misfortune,  was  by  no  means  equal  to  her   I 
abilities.      She  was  very  haughty  in    her  demeanor,  even    ' 
towards  the    upper  domestics,   who  in  that  establishment 
were  of  a  much  higher  rank  and  better  birth  than  in  the 
families  of  the  nobility  in  general.     These  often  complained,  , 
not  only  of  her  pride  and  reserve,  but  of  her  high  and  irasci-  \ 
ble  temper  and  vindictive  disposition.     Her  passionate  pro-  \ 
pensity  had  been  indeed  idly  encouraged  by  the  young  men,   i 
and  particularly  by  the  earl,  who  sometimes  amused  himself 
with  teazing  her,  that  he  might  enjoy  the  various  singular 
motions  and  murmurs  by  which  she  expressed  her  resent- 
ment.    Towards  him,  these  were  of  course  only  petulant 
and  whimsical  indications  of  pettish  anger.     But  when  she 
was  angry  with  others  of  inferior  degree — before  whom  she 
did  not  control  herself — the  expression  of  her  passion,  un- 
able to  display  itself  in  language,  had  something  even  fright- 
ful, so  singular  were  the  tones,  contortions,  and  gestures  to 
which  she  had  recourse.     The  lower  domestics,  to  whom  she 
was  liberal  almost  beyond  her  apparent  means,  observed  her 
with  much  deference  and  respect,  but  much  more  from  fear 
than  from  any  real  attachment ;    for   the  caprices  of   her 
temper  displayed  themselves  even  in  her  gifts ;  and  those 
who  most  frequently  shared  her  bounty  seemed  by  no  means 
assured  of  the  benevolence  of  the  motives  which  dictated  her 
liberality. 

All  these  peculiarities  led  to  a  conclusion  consonant  with 
Manx  superstition.  Devout  believers  in  all  the  legends  of 
fairies  so  dear  to  the  Celtic  tribes,  the  Manx  people  held  it 
for  certainty  that  the  elves  were  in  the  habit  of  carrying  off 
mortal  children  before  baptism,  and  leaving  in  the  cradle  of 
the  newborn  babe  one  of  their  own  brood,  which  was  almost 
always  imperfect  in  some  one  or  other  of  the  organs  proper 


176  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

to  humanity.  Such  a  being  they  conceived  Fenella  to  b«  ; 
and  the  smallness  of  her  size,  her  dark  complexion,  her  long 
locks  of  silken  hair,  the  singularity  of  her  manners  and 
tones,  as  well  as  the  caprices  of  her  temper,  were  to  their 
thinking  all  attributes  of  the  irritable,  fickle,  and  dangerous 
race  from  which  they  supposed  her  to  be  sprung.  And  it 
seemed  that,  although  no  jest  appeared  to  offend  her  more 
than  when  Lord  Derby  called  her  in  s.port  the  Elfin  Queen, 
or  otherwise  alluded  to  her  supposed  connection  with  'Hhe 
pygmy  folk,^^  yet  still  her  perpetually  affecting  to  wear  the 
color  of  green,  proper  to  the  fairies,  as  well  as  some  other 
peculiarities,  seemed  voluntarily  assumed  by  her,  in  order 
to  countenance  the  superstition,  perhaps  because  it  gave  her 
more  authority  among  the  lower  orders. 

Many  were  the  tales  circulated  respecting  the  countess's 
elf,  as  Fenella  was  currently  called  in  the  island  ;  and  the 
malcontents  of  the  stricter  persuasion  were  convinced  that 
no  one  but  a  Papist  and  a  Malignant  would  have  kept  near 
her  person  a  creature  of  such  doubtful  origin.  They  con- 
ceived that  Fenella's  deafness  and  dumbness  were  only 
towards  those  of  this  world,  and  that  she  had  been  heard 
talking,  and  singing,  and  laughing  most  elvishly  with  the 
invisibles  of  her  own  race.  They  alleged,  also,  that  she  had 
a  "  double,"  a  sort  of  apparition  resembling  her,  which  slept 
in  the  countess's  ante-room,  or  bore  her  train,  or  wrought 
in  her  cabinet,  while  the  real  Fenella  joined  the  song  of  the 
mermaids  on  the  moonlight  sands,  or  the  dance  of  the 
fairies  in  the  haunted  valley  of  Glenmoy,  or  on  the  heights 
of  Snaefell  and  Barool.  The  sentinels,  too,  would  have 
sworn  they  had  seen  the  little  maiden  trip  past  them  in 
their  solitary  night- walks,  without  their  having  it  in  their 
power  to  challenge  her,  any  more  than  if  they  had  been  as 
mute  as  herself.  To  all  this  mass  of  absurdities  the  better 
informed  paid  no  more  attention  than  to  the  usual  idle 
exaggerations  of  the  vulgar,  which  so  frequently  connect 
that  which  is  unusual  with  what  is  supernatural.* 

Such,  in  form  and  habits,  was  the  little  female  who,  hold- 
ing in  her  hand  a  small,  old-fashioned  ebony  rod,  which 
might  have  passed  for  a  divining-wand,  confronted  Julian 
on  the  top  of  the  flight  of  steps  which  led  down  the  rock 
from  the  castle  court.  We  ought  to  observe  that,  as  Julian's 
manner  to  the  unfortunate  girl  had  been  always  gentle,  and 
free  from  those  teazing  jests  in  which  his  gay  friend  in- 

*  See  Manx  Superstitions.    Note  lH. 


PEVEEIL  OF  THEPE4K  177 

dulged,  with  less  regard  to  the  peculiarity  of  her  situation 
and  feelings,  so  Eenella,  on  her  part,  had  usually  shown 
much  greater  deference  to  him  than  to  any  of  the  household, 
her  mistress,  the  countess,  always  excepted. 

On  the  present  occasion,  planting  herself  in  the  very 
midst  of  the  narrow  descent,  so  as  to  make  it  impossible  for 
Peveril  to  pass  by  her,  she  proceeded  to  put  him  to  the 
question  by  a  series  of  gestures,  which  we  will  endeavor  to 
describe.  She  commenced  by  extending  her  hand  slightly, 
accompanied  with  the  sharp,  inquisitive  look  which  served 
her  as  a  note  of  interrogation.  This  was  meant  as  an  in- 
quiry whether  he  was  going  to  a  distance.  Julian,  in  reply, 
extended  his  arm  more  than  half,  to  intimate  that  the 
distance  was  considerable.  Fenella  looked  grave,  shook  her 
head,  and  pointed  to  the  countesses  window,  which  was 
visible  from  the  spot  where  they  stood.  Peveril  smiled  and 
nodded,  to  intimate  there  was  no  danger  in  quitting  her 
mistress  for  a  short  space.  The  little  maiden  next  touched 
an  eagle's  feather  which  she  wore  in  her  hair,  a  sign  which 
she  usually  employed  to  designate  the  earl,  and  then  looked 
inquisitively  at  Julian  once  more,  as  if  to  say,  ''  Goes  he 
with  you  ?  "  Peveril  shook  his  head,  and,  somewhat  wearied 
by  these  interrogatories,  smiled,  and  made  an  effort  to  pass. 
Fenella  frowned,  struck  the  end  of  her  ebony  rod  perpen- 
dicularly on  the  ground,  and  again  shook  her  head,  as  if 
opposing  his  departure.  But  finding  that  Julian  persevered 
in  his  purpose,  she  suddenly  assumed  another  and  a  milder 
mood,  held  him  by  the  skirt  of  his  cloak  with  one  hand,  and 
raised  the  other  in  an  imploring  attitude,  whilst  every 
feature  of  her  lively  countenance  was  composed  into  the 
like  expression  of  supplication ;  and  the  fire  of  the  large 
dark  eyes,  which  appeared  in  general  so  keen  and  piercing 
as  almost  to  over-animate  the  little  sphere  to  which  they 
belonged,  seemed  quenched,  for  the  moment,  in  the  large 
drops  which  hung  on  her  long  eyelashes,  but  without  falling. 

Julian  Peveril  was  far  from  being  void  of  sympathy 
towards  the  poor  girl,  whose  motives  in  opposing  his  de- 
parture appeared  to  be  her  affectionate  apprehension  for  her 
mistress's  safety.  He  endeavored  to  reassure  her  by  smiles, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  by  such  signs  as  he  could  devise,  to 
mtimate  that  there  was  no  danger,  and  that  he  would  return 
presently ;  and  having  succeeded  in  extricating  his  cloak 
from  her  grasp  and  in  passing  her  on  the  stair,  he  began  to 
descend  the  steps  as  speedily  as  he  could,  in  order  to  avoid 
farther  importunity. 
13 


178  WA VEBLEY  NOVELS 

But  with  activity  much  greater  than  his,  the  dumb  maiden 
hastened  to  intercept  him,  and  succeeded  by  throwing  her- 
self, at  the  imminent  risk  of  life  and  limb,  a  second  time 
into  the  pass  which  he  was  descending,  so  as  to  interrupt  his 
purpose.  In  order  to  achieve  this,  she  was  obliged  to  let 
herself  drop  a  considerable  height  from  the  wall  of  a  small 
flanking  battery,  where  two  patereroes  were  placed  to  scour 
the  pass,  in  case  any  enemy  could  have  mounted  so  high. 
Julian  had  scarce  time  to  shudder  at  her  purpose,  as  he  be- 
held her  about  to  spring  from  the  parapet,  ere,  like  a  thing 
of  gossamer,  she  stood  light  and  uninjured  on  the  rocky 
platform  below.  He  endeavored  by  the  gravity  of  his  look 
and  gesture,  to  make  her  understand  how  much  he  blamed 
her  rashness ;  but  the  reproof,  though  obviously  quite  intel- 
ligible, was  entirely  thrown  away.  A  hasty  wave  of  her  hand 
intimated  how  she  contemned  the  danger  and  the  remon- 
strance ;  while  at  the  same  time  she  instantly  resumed,  with 
more  eagerness  than  before,  the  earnest  and  impressive 
gestures  by  which  she  endeavored  to  detain  kim  in  the 
fortress. 

Julian  was  somewhat  staggered  by  her  pertinacity.  "Is 
it  possible,"  he  thought,  -'that  any  danger  can  approach 
the  countess,  of  which  this  poor  maiden  has,  by  the  extreme 
acuteness  of  her  observation,  obtained  knowledge  which  has 
escaped  others  ?  " 

He  signed  to  Fenella  hastily  to  give  him  the  tablets  and 
the  pencil  which  she  usually  carried  with  her,  and  wrote  on 
them  the  question,  ''Is  there  danger  near  to  your  mistress, 
that  you  thus  stop  me  ?" 

'*  There  is  danger  around  the  countess,"  was  the  answer 
instantly  written  down  ;  '*  but  there  is  much  more  in  your 
own  purpose." 

"  E[ow  !  what !  what  know  you  of  my  purpose  ?  "  said 
Julian,  forgetting,  in  his  surprise,  that  the  party  he  ad- 
dressed had  neither  ear  to  comprehend  nor  voice  to  reply  to 
uttered  language.  She  had  regained  her  book  in  the  mean- 
time, and  sketched,  with  a  rapid  pencil,  on  one  of  the  leaves, 
a  scene  which  she  showed  to  Julian.  To  his  infinite  sur- 
prise, he  recognized  Goddard  Crovan's  Stone,  a  remarkable 
monument,  of  which  she  had  given  the  outline  with  sufficient 
accuracy  ;  together  with  a  male  and  female  figure,  which, 
though  only  indicated  by  a  few  slight  touches  of  the  pencil, 
bore  yet,  he  thought,  some  resemblance  to  himself  and  Alice 
Bridgenorth. 

When  he  had  gazed  on  the  sketch  for  an  instant  with 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  179 

surprise,  Fenella  took  the  book  from  his  hand,  laid  her  finger 
upon  the  drawing,  and  slowly  and  sternly  shook  her  head, 
with  a  frown  which  seemed  to  prohibit  the  meeting  which 
was  there  represented.  Julian,  however,  though  discon- 
certed, was  in  no  shape  disposed  to  submit  to  the  authority 
of  his  monitress.  By  whatever  means  she,  who  so  seldom 
stirred  from  the  countess's  apartment,  had  become  acquainted 
with  a  secret  which  he  thought  entirely  his  own,  he  esteemed 
it  the  more  necessary  to  keep  the  appointed  rendezvous,  that 
he  might  learn  from  Alice,  if  possible,  how  the  secret  had 
transpired.  He  had  also  formed  the  intention  of  seeking 
out  Bridgenorth  ;  entertaining  an  idea  that  a  person  so 
reasonable  and  calm  as  he  had  shown  himself  in  their  late 
conference  might  be  persuaded,  when  he  understood  that  the 
countess  was  aware  of  his  intrigues,  to  put  an  end  to  her 
danger  and  his  own  by  withdrawing  from  the  island.  And 
could  he  succeed  in  this  point,  he  should  at  once,  he  thought, 
render  a  material  benefit  to  the  father  of  his  beloved  Alice, 
remove  the  earl  from  his  state  of  anxiety,  save  the  countess 
from  a  second  time  putting  her  feudal  jurisdiction  in  opposi- 
tion to  that  of  the  crown  of  England,  and  secure  quiet 
possession  of  the  island  to  her  and  her  family. 

With  this  scheme  of  mediation  in  his  mind,  Peveril  de- 
termined to  rid  himself  of  the  opposition  of  Fenella  to  his 
departure  with  less  ceremony  than  he  had  hitherto  observed 
towards  her;  and  suddenly  lifting  up  the  damsel  in  his  arms 
before  she  was  aware  of  his  purpose,  he  turned  about,  set 
her  down  on  the  steps  above  him,  and  began  to  descend  the 
pas^.'  himself  as  speedily  as  possible.  It  was  then  that  the 
dumb  maiden  gave  full  course  to  the  vehemence  of  her  dis- 
position ;  and,  clapping  her  hands  repeatedly,  expressed  her 
displeasure  in  a  sound,  or  rather  a  shriek,  so  extremely  dis- 
sonant, that  it  resembled  more  the  cry  of  a  wild  creature  than 
anything  which  could  have  been  uttered  by  female  organs. 
Peveril  was  so  astounded  at  the  scream  as  it  rung  through 
the  living  rocks,  that  he  could  not  help  stopping  and  looking 
back  in  alarm,  to  satisfy  himself  that  she  had  not  sustained 
some  injury.  He  saw  her,  however,  perfectly  safe,  though 
her  face  seemed  inflamed  and  distorted  with  passion.  She 
stam.ped  at  him  with  her  foot,  shook  her  clenched  hand,  and, 
turning  her  back  upon  him  without  farther  adieu,  ran  up 
the  rude  steps  as  lightly  as  a  kid  could  have  tripped  up  that 
rugged  ascent,  and  paused  for  a  moment  at  the  summit  of 
the  first  flight. 

Julian  could  feel  nothing  but  wonder  and  compassion  for 


180  WAVSRLEY  NOVELS 

the  impotent  passion  of  a  being  so  unfortunately  circum- 
stanced, cut  off  as  it  were,  from  the  rest  of  mankind,  and  in- 
capable of  receiving  in  childhood  that  mortal  discipline  which 
teaches  us  mastery  of  our  wayward  passions,  ere  yet  they  have 
attained  their  meridian  strength  and  violence.  He  waved 
his  hand  to  her,  in  token  of  amicable  farewell  ;  but  she  only 
replied  by  once  more  menacing  him  with  her  little  hand 
clenched ;  and  then  ascending  the  rocky  staircase  with  al- 
most preternatural  speed,  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

Julian,  on  his  part,  gave  no  farther  consideration  to  her 
conduct  or  its  motives,  but  hastening  to  the  village  on  the 
mainland,  where  the  stables  of  the  castle  were  situated,  he 
again  took  his  palfrey  from  the  stall,  and  was  soon  mounted 
and  on  his  way  to  the  appointed  place  of  rendezvous,  much 
marveling,  as  he  ambled  forward  with  speed  far  greater  than 
was  promised  by  the  diminutive  size  of  the  animal  he  was 
mounted  on,  what  could  have  happened  to  produce  so  great 
a  change  in  Alice^s  conduct  towards  him,  that,  in  place  of 
enjoining  his  absence  as  usual,  or  recommending  his  depar- 
ture from  the  island,  she  should  now  voluntarily  invite  him 
to  a  meeting.  Under  impression  of  the  various  doubts  which 
succeeded  each  other  in  his  imagination,  he  sometimes  pressed 
Fairy^s  sides  with  his  legs  ;  sometimes  laid  his  holly  rod 
lightly  on  her  neck  ;  sometimes  incited  her  by  his  voice,  for 
the  mettled  animal  needed  neither  whip  nor  spur ;  and 
achieved  the  distance  betwixt  the  Castle  of  Holm-Peel  and 
the  stone  at  Goddard  Crovan  at  the  rate  of  twelve  miles 
within  the  hour. 

The  monumental  stone,  designed  to  commemorate  some 
feat  of  an  ancient  king  of  Man  which  had  been  long  forgotten, 
was  erected  on  the  side  of  a  narrow,  lonely  valley,  or  rather 
glen,  secluded  from  observation  by  the  steepness  of  its  bank, 
upon  a  projection  of  which  stood  the  tall,  shapeless,  soli- 
tary rock,  frowning,  like  a  shrouded  giant,  over  the  brawl- 
ing of  the  small  rivulet  which  watered  the  ravine. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

This  a  love  meeting  ?    See,  the  maiden  mourns, 
And  the  sad  suitor  bends  his  looks  on  earth. 
There's  more  hath  pass'd  between  them  than  belongs 
To  love's  sweet  sorrows. 

Old  Play. 

As  he  approached  the  monument  of  Goddard  Crovant  Julian 
cast  many  an  anxious  glance  to  see  whether  any  object  vis- 
ible beside  the  huge  gray  stone  should  apprise  him  whether 
he  was  anticipated,  at  the  appointed  place  of  rendezyous,  by 
her  who  had  named  it.  Nor  was  it  long  before  the  flutter  of 
a  mantle,  which  the  breeze  slightly  waved,  and  the  motion 
necessary  to  replace  it  upon  the  wearer's  shoulders,  made  him 
aware  that  Alice  had  already  reached  their  place  of  meeting. 
One  instant  set  the  palfrey  at  liberty,  with  slackened  girths 
and  loosened  reins,  to  pick  its  own  way  through  the  dell 
at  will ;  another  placed  Julian  Peveril  by  the  side  of  Alice 
Bridgenorth. 

That  Alice  should  extend  her  hand  to  her  lover,  as  with 
the  ardor  of  a  young  greyhound  he  bounded  over  the  obstacles 
of  the  rugged  path,  was  as  natural  as  that  Julian,  seizing  on 
the  hand  so  kindly  stretched  out,  should  devour  it  with 
kisses,  and,  for  a  moment  or  two,  without  reprehension  ; 
while  the  other  hand,  which  should  have  aided  in  the  liber- 
ation of  its  fellow,  served  to  hide  the  blushes  of  the  fair 
owner.  But  Alice,  young  as  she  was,  and  attached  to  Julian 
by  such  long  habits  of  kindly  intimacy,  still  knew  well  how 
to  subdue  the  tendency  of  her  own  treacherous  affections. 

'*  This  is  not  right,"  she  said,  extricating  her  hand  from 
Julian's  grasp — '^  this  is  not  right,  Julian.  If  I  have  been 
too  rash  in  admitting  such  a  meeting  as  the  present,  it  is  not 
you  that  should  make  me  sensible  of  my  folly." 

Julian  PeveriFs  mind  had  been  early  illumined  with  that 
touch  of  romantic  fire  which  deprives  passion  of  selfishness, 
and  confers  on  it  the  high  and  refined  tone  of  generous  and 
disinterested  devotion.  He  let  go  the  hand  of  Alice  with  as 
much  respect  as  he  could  have  paid  to  that  of  a  princess ; 
and  when  she  seated  herself  upon  a  rocky  fragment,  over 
which  nature  had  stretched  a  cushion  of  moss  and  lichen, 

181 


182  WAVE  RLE  Y  NOVELS 

interspersed  "with  wild-flowers,  backed  with  a  bush  of  copse- 
wood,  he  took  his  place  beside  her,  indeed,  but  at  such  dis- 
tance as  to  intimate  the  duty  of  an  attendant,  who  was  there 
only  to  hear  and  to  obey.  Alice  Bridgenorth  became  more 
assured  as  she  observed  the  power  which  she  possessed  over 
her  lover ;  and  the  self-command  which  Peveril  exhibited, 
which  other  damsels  in  her  situation  might  have  judged  in- 
consistent with  intensity  of  passion,  she  appreciated  more 
justly,  as  a  proof  of  his  respectful  and  disinterested  sincerity. 
She  recovered,  in  addressing  him,  the  tone  of  confidence 
which  rather  belonged  to  the  scenes  of  their  early  acquaint- 
ance than  to  those  which  had  passed  betwixt  them  since 
Peveril  had  disclosed  his  affection,  and  thereby  had  brought 
restraint  upon  their  intercourse. 

"  Julian, '' she  said,  '^your  visit  of  yesterday — your  most 
ill-timed  visit — has  distressed  me  much.  It  has  misled  my 
father — it  has  endangered  you.  At  all  risks,  I  resolved  that 
you  should  know  this,  and  blame  me  not  if  I  have  taken  a 
bold  and  imprudent  step  in  desiring  this  solitary  interview, 
since  you  are  aware  how  little  poor  Deborah  is  to  be  trusted." 

*^  (Jan  you  fear  misconstruction  from  me,  Alice  ?"  replied 
Peveril,  warmly — ^'from  me,  whom  you  have  thus  highly 
favored — thus  deeply  obliged  ?  " 

"  Cease  your  protestations,  Julian,"  answered  the  maiden, 
''they  do  but  make  me  the  more  sensible  that  I  have  acted 
over  boldly.  But  I  did  for  the  best.  I  could  not  see  you, 
whom  I  have  known  so  long — you,  who  say  you  regard  me 
with  partiality " 

''  Say  that  I  regard  you  with  partiality  ! "  interrupted  Pev- 
eril in  his  turn.  ''  Ah,  Alice,  what  a  cold  and  doubtful 
phrase  you  have  used  to  express  the  most  devoted,  the  most 
sincere  affection  !  '^ 

''  Well,  then,"  said  Alice,  sadly,  ''  we  will  not  quarrel 
about  words  ;  but  do  not  again  interrupt  me.  I  could  not,  I 
say,  see  you,  who,  I  believe,  regard  me  with  sincere,  though 
vain  and  fruitless,  attachment,  rush  blindfold  into  a  snare, 
deceived  and  seduced  by  those  very  feelings  towards  me." 

'' I  understand  you  not,  Alice,"  said  Peveril ;  "nor  can  I 
see  any  danger  to  which  I  am  at  present  exposed.  The  sen- 
timents which  your  father  has  expressed  towards  me  are  of 
a  nature  irreconcilable  with  hostile  purposes.  If  he  is  not 
offended  with  the  bold  wishes  I  may  have  formed,  and  his 
whole  behavior  shows  the  contrary,  I  know  not  a  man  on 
earth  from  whom  I  have  less  cause  to  apprehend  any  danger 
QV  ill-will." 


PEVEEIL  OF  THE  PEAK  183 

"  My  father,"  said  Alice,  "  means  well  by  his  country,  and 
well  by  you  ;  yet  I  sometimes  f^ar  he  may  rather  injure  than 
serve  his  good  cause ;  and  still  more  do  I  dread  that,  in  at^ 
tempting  to  engage  you  as  an  auxiliary,  he  may  forget  those 
ties  which  ought  to  bind  you,  and  I  am  sure  which  will  bind 
you,  to  a  different  line  of  conduct  from  his  own." 

''  You  lead  me  into  still  deeper  darkness,  Alice,"  answered 
Peveril.  "  That  your  father's  especial  line  of  politics  differs 
widely  from  mine,  I  know  well ;  but  how  many  instances  have 
occurred,  even  during  the  bloody  scenes  of  civil  warfare,  of 
good  and  worthy  men  laying  the  prejudice  of  party  affections 
aside,  and  regarding  each  other  with  respect,  and  even  with 
friendly  attachment,  without  being  false  to  principle  on 
either  side  ?" 

''  It  may  be  so,"  said  Alice  !  ''  but  such  is  not  the  league 
which  my  father  desires  to  form  with  you,  and  that  to  which 
he  hopes  your  misplaced  partiality  towards  his  daughter  may 
afford  a  motive  for  your  forming  with  him." 

''And  what  is  it,"  said  Peveril,  ''which  I  would  refuse, 
with  such  a  prospect  before  me  ?  " 

"  Treachery  and  dishonor  ! "  replied  Alice — "  whatever 
would  render  you  unworthy  of  the  poor  boon  at  which  you 
aim — ay,  were  it  more  worthless  than  I  confess  it  to  be." 

"Would  your  father,"  said  Peveril,  as  he  unwillingly  re- 
ceived the  impression  which  Alice  designed  to  convey — 
"  would  he,  whose  views  of  duty  are  so  strict  and  severe — 
would  he  wish  to  involve  me  in  aught  to  which  such  harsh 
epithets  as  treachery  and  dishonor  can  be  applied  with  the 
slightest  shadow  of  truth  ?  " 

"  Do  not  mistake  me,  Julian,"  replied  the  maiden  ;  "  my 
father  is  incapable  of  requesting  aught  of  you  that  is  not  to 
his  thinking  just  and  honorable  ;  nay,  he  conceives  that  he 
only  claims  from  you  a  debt  which  is  due  as  a  creature  to  the 
Creator,  and  as  a  man  to  your  fellow-men." 

'•  So  guarded,  where  can  be  the  danger  of  our  intercourse  ?'* 
replied  Julian.  "  If  he  be  resolved  to  require,  and  I  deter- 
mined to  accede  to,  nothing  save  what  flows  from  conviction, 
what  have  I  to  fear,  Alice  ?  And  how  is  my  intercourse  with 
your  father  dangerous  ?  Believe  not  so  ;  his  speech  has  al- 
ready made  impression  on  me  in  some  particulars,  and  he 
listened  with  candor  and  patience  to  the  objections  which  I 
made  occasionally.  You  do  Master  Bridgenorth  less  than 
justice  in  confounding  him  with  the  unreasonable  bigots  in 
policy  and  religion  who  can  listen  to  no  argument  but  what 
favors  their  own  prepossessions." 


184  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

'' Julian/'  replied  Alice,  'Mt  is  you  who  misjudge  my 
father's  powers,  and  his  purpose  with  respect  to  you,  and 
who  overrate  your  own  powers  of  resistance.  I  am  but  a 
girl,  but  I  have  been  taught  by  circumstances  to  think  for 
myself,  and  to  consider  the  character  of  those  who  are 
around  me.  My  father's  views  in  ecclesiastical  and  civil 
policy  are  as  dear  to  him  as  the  life  which  he  cherishes  only 
to  advance  them.  They  have  been,  with  little  alteration, 
his  companions  through  life.  They  brought  him  at  one 
period  into  prosperity,  and  when  they  suited  not  the  times, 
he  suffered  for  having  held  them.  They  have  become  not 
only  a  part,  but  the  very  dearest  part,  of  his  existence.  If 
he  shows  them  not  to  you  at  first  in  the  inflexible  strength 
which  they  have  acquired  over  his  mind,  do  not  believe  that 
they  are  the  less  powerful.  He  w?io  desires  to  make  con- 
verts must  begin  by  degrees.  But  what  he  should  sacrifice 
to  an  inexperienced  young  man,  whose  ruling  motive  he  will 
term  a  childish  passion,  any  part  of  those  treasured  princi- 
ples which  he  has  maintained  through  good  repute  and  bad 
repute — 0,  do  not  dream  of  such  an  impossibility  !  If  you 
meet  at  all,  you  must  be  the  wax,  he  the  seal :  you  must  re- 
ceive, he  must  bestow,  an  absolute  impression." 

"  That,"  said  Peveril,  "  were  unreasonable.  I  will  frankly 
avow  to  you,  Alice,  that  I  am  not  a  sworn  bigot  to  the  opin- 
ions entertained  by  my  father,  much  as  I  respect  his  person. 
I  could  wish  that  our  Cavaliers,  or  whatsoever  they  are 
pleased  to  call  themselves,  would  have  some  more  charity 
towards  those  who  differ  from  them  in  church  and  state. 
But  to  hope  that  I  would  surrender  the  principles  in  which 
I  have  lived  were  to  suppose  me  capable  of  deserting  my 
benefactress,  and  breaking  the  hearts  of  my  parents." 

*'  Even  so  I  judged  of  you,"  answered  Alice  ;  ^'  and,  there- 
fore, I  asked  this  interview,  to  conjure  that  you  will  break 
off  all  intercourse  with  our  family — return  to  your  parents — 
or,  what  will  be  much  safer,  visit  the  Continent  once  more, 
and  abide  till  God  sends  better  days  to  England,  for  these 
are  black  with  many  a  storm." 

'^  And  can  you  bid  me  go,  Alice,"  said  the  young  man, 
taking  her  unresisting  hand — "  can  you  bid  me  go,  and  yet 
own  an  interest  in  my  fate  ?  Can  you  bid  me,  for  fear  of 
dangers  which,  as  a  man,  as  a  gentleman,  and  a  loyal  one,  I 
am  bound  to  show  my  face  to,  meanly  abandon  my  parents, 
my  friends,  my  country,  suffer  the  existence  of  evils  which 
I  might  aid  to  prevent,  forego  the  prospect  of  doing  such 
little  good  as  might  be  in  my  power  ;  fall  from  an  active  and 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  185 

honorable  station  into  the  condition  of  a  fugitive  and  time- 
server.  Can  you  bid  me  do  all  this,  Alice  ? — can  you  bid 
me  do  all  this,  and,  in  the  same  breath,  bid  farewell  forever 
to  you  and  happiness  ?  It  is  impossible  :  I  cannot  surrender 
at  once  my  love  and  my  honor/^ 

"  There  is  no  remedy, '^  said  Alice,  but  she  could  not  sup- 
press a  sigh  while  she  said  so — ''  there  is  no  remedy,  none 
whatever.  What  we  might  have  been  to  each  other,  placed 
in  more  favorable  circumstances,  it  avails  not  to  think  of 
now  ;  and,  circumstanced  as  we  are,  with  open  war  about  to 
break  out  betwixt  our  parents  and  friends,  we  can  be  but 
well-wishers — cold  and  distant  well-wishers,  who  must  part 
on  this  spot,  and  at  this  hour,  never  to  meet  again." 

^^No,  by  Heaven  !*'  said  Peveril,  animated  at  the  same 
time  by  his  own  feelings  and  by  the  sight  of  the  emotions 
which  his  companion  in  vain  endeavored  to  suppress — ^^  no, 
by  Heaven  !"  he  exclaimed,  ^^  we  part  not — Alice,  we  part 
not.  If  I  am  to  leave  my  native  land,  you  shall  be  my  com- 
panion in  my  exile.  What  have  you  to  lose  ?  Whom  have 
you  to  abandon  ?  Your  father  ?  The  good  old  cause,  as  it 
is  termed,  is  dearer  to  him  than  a  thousand  daughters  ;  and 
setting  him  aside,  what  tie  is  there  between  you  and  this 
barren  isle — between  my  Alice  and  any  spot  of  the  British 
dominions  where  her  Julian  does  not  sit  by  her  ?  " 

''  Oh,  Julian,"  answered  the  maiden,  "  why  make  my 
duty  more  painful  by  visionary  projects,  which  you  ought 
not  to  name  or  I  to  listen  to  ?  Your  parents  !  my  father  ! 
it  cannot  be." 

*'Fear  not  for  my  parents,  Alice,"  replied  Julian,  and 
pressing  close  to  his  companion's  side,  he  ventured  to  throw 
his  arm  around  her  ;  ^'  they  love  me,  and  they  will  soon  learn 
to  love  in  Alice  the  only  being  on  earth  who  could  have  ren- 
dered their  son  happy.  And  for  your  own  father,  when 
state  and  church  intrigues  allow  him  to  bestow  a  thought 
upon  you,  will  he  not  think  that  your  happiness,  your  se- 
curity, is  better  cared  for  when  you  are  my  wife  than  were 
you  to  continue  under  the  mercenary  charge  of  yonder  fool- 
ish woman  ?  What  could  his  pride  desire  better  for  you 
than  the  establishment  which  will  one  day  be  mine  ?  Come 
then,  Alice,  and  since  you  condemn  me  to  banishment — 
since  you  deny  me  a  share  in  those  stirring  achievements 
which  are  about  to  agitate  England — come  !  do  you,  for  you 
only  can — do  you  reconcile  me  to  exile  and  inaction,  and 
give  happiness  to  one  who,  for  your  sake,  is  willing  to  re- 
sign honor  ! " 


186  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

"It  cannot — it  cannot  be/' said  Alice,  faltering  as  she 
uttered  her  negative.     "And  jet,"  she  said,  "how  many  in 

my  place — left  alone  and  unprotected  as  I  am But  I 

must  not — I  must  not — for  your  sake,  Julian,  I  must  not !  " 

"  Say  not  for  my  sake  you  must  not,  Alice, ^'  said  Peveril, 
eagerly  ;  "  this  is  adding  insult  to  cruelty.  If  you  will  do 
aught  for  my  sake,  you  will  say  "yes,''  ;  or  you  will  suffer 
this  dear  head  to  drop  on  my  shoulder — the  slightest  sign — 
the  moving  of  an  eyelid,  shall  signify  consent.  All  shall  be 
prepared  within  an  hour  ;  within  another  the  priest  shall 
unite  us  ;  and  within  a  third  we  leave  the  isle  behind  us, 
and  seek  our  fortunes  on  the  Continent."  But  while  he 
spoke,  in  joyful  anticipation  of  the  consent  which  he  im- 
plored, Alice  found  means  to  collect  together  her  resolu- 
tion, which,  staggered  by  the  eagerness  of  her  lover,  the 
impulse  of  her  own  affection,  and  the  singularity  of  her 
situation — seeming,  in  her  case,  to  justify  what  would  have 
been  most  blamable  in  another — had  more  than  half  aban- 
doned her. 

The  result  of  a  moment's  deliberation  was  fatal  to  Julian's 
proposal.  She  extricated  herself  from  the  arm  which  had 
pressed  her  to  his  side,  arose,  and  repelling  his  attempts  to 
approach  or  detain  her,  said,  with  a  simplicity  not  unmin- 
gled  with  dignity,  "Julian,  I  always  knew  I  risked  much 
in  inviting  you  to  this  meeting  ;  but  I  did  not  guess  that  I 
could  have  been  so  cruel  both  to  you  and  to  myself  as  to 
suffer  you  to  discover  what  you  have  to-day  seen  too  plainly 
— that  I  love  you  better  than  you  love  me.  But  since  you 
do  know  it,  I  will  show  you  that  Alice's  love  is  disinterested. 
She  will  not  bring  an  ignoble  name  into  your  ancient  house. 
If  hereafter,  in  your  line,  there  should  arise  some  who  may 
think  the  claims  of  the  hierarchy  too  exorbitant,  the  powers 
of  the  crown  too  extensive,  men  shall  not  say  these  ideas 
were  derived  from  Alice  Bridgenorth,  their  Whig  grand- 
dame." 

"  Can  you  speak  thus,  Alice  ?"  said  her  lover — "  can  you 
use  such  expressions  ?  and  are  you  not  sensible  that  they 
show  plainly  it  is  your  own  pride,  not  regard  for  me,  that 
makes  you  resist  the  happiness  of  both  ?  " 

"  Not  so  Julian — not  so,"  answered  Alice,  with  tears  in 
her  eyes  ;  "  it  is  the  command  of  duty  to  us  both — of  duty, 
which  we  cannot  transgress  without  risking  our  happiness 
here  and  hereafter.  Think  what  I,  the  cause  of  all,  should 
feel  when  your  father  frowns,  your  mother  weeps,  your  noble 
friends  stand  aloof,  and  you,  even  you  yourself,  shall  have 


made  the  painful  discovery  that  you  Lave  incurred  the  con- 
tempt and  resentment  of  all  to  satisfy  a  boyish  passion  ;  and 
that  the  poor  beauty,  once  sufficient  to  mislead  you,  is  grad- 
ually declining  under  the  influence  of  grief  and  vexation  ! 
This  I  will  not  risk.  I  see  distinctly  it  is  best  we  should 
here  break  off  and  part ;  and  I  thank  God,  who  gives  me 
light  enough  to  perceive,  and  strength  enough  to  withstand, 
your  folly  as  well  as  my  oy^m.  Farewell  then,  Julian  ;  but 
first  take  the  solemn  advice  which  I  called  you  hither  to  im- 
part to  you  :  Shun  my  father  ;  you  cannot  walk  in  his  paths 
and  be  trud  to  gratitude  and  to  honor.  What  he  doth  from 
pure  and  honorable  motives  you  cannot  aid  him  in,  except 
upon  the  suggestion  of  a  silly  and  interested  passion,  at  vari- 
ance with  all  the  engagments  you  have  formed  at  coming 
into  life." 

'^  Once  more,  Alice,"  answered  Julian,  '*  I  understand 
you  not.  If  a  course  of  action  is  good,  it  needs  no  vindica- 
tion from  the  actor^s  motives  ;  if  bad,  it  can  derive  none." 

"  You  cannot  blind  me  with  your  sophistry,  Julian,"  re- 
plied Alice  Bridgenorth,  ^'  any  more  than  you  can  over- 
power me  with  your  passion.  Had  the  patriarch  destined 
his  son  to  death  upon  any  less  ground  than  faith  and  hum- 
ble obedience  to  a  Divine  commandment,  he  had  meditated 
a  murder  and  not  a  sacrifice.  In  our  late  bloody  and  lamen- 
table wars,  how  many  drew  swords  on  either  side  from  the 
purest  and  most  honorable  motives  ?  How  many  from  the 
culpable  suggestions  of  ambition,  self-seeking,  and  love  of 
plunder  ?  Yet,  while  they  marched  in  the  same  ranks,  and 
spurred  their  horses  at  the  same  trumpet-sound,  the  mem- 
ory of  the  former  is  dear  to  us  as  patriots  or  loyalists  ;  that 
of  those  who  acted  on  mean  or  unworthy  promptings  is 
either  execrated  or  forgotten.  Once  more,  I  warn  you,  avoid 
my  father  ;  leave  this  island,  which  will  be  soon  agitated  by 
strange  incidents  ;  while  you  stay,  be  on  your  guard  :  dis- 
trust everything,  be  jealous  of  every  one,  even  of  those  to 
whom  it  may  seem  almost  impossible,  from  circumstances, 
to  attach  a  shadow  of  suspicion  ;  trust  not  the  very  stones 
of  the  most  secret  apartment  in  Holm-Peel,  for  that  which 
hath  wings  shall  carry  the  matter." 

Here  Alice  broke  off  suddenly,  and  with  a  faint  shriek  ; 
for,  stepping  from  behind  the  stunted  copse  which  had  con- 
cealed him,  her  father  stood  unexpectedly  before  them. 

The  reader  cannot  have  forgotten  that  this  was  the  second 
time  in  which  the  stolen  interview  of  the  lovers  had  been 
interrupted  by  the  unexpected  apparition  of  Major  Bridge- 


188  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

north.  On  this  second  occasion  his  countenance  exhibited 
anger  mixed  with  solemnity,  like  that  of  the  spirit  to  a 
ghost-seer,  whom  he  upbraids  with  having  neglected  a 
charge  imposed  at  their  first  meeting.  Eyen  his  anger, 
however,  produced  no  more  violent  emotion  than  a  cold 
sternness  of  manner  in  his  speech  and  action.  ''  I  thank 
you,  Alice,"  he  said  to  his  daughter,  ^''  for  the  pains  you 
have  taken  to  traverse  my  designs  towards  this  young  man 
and  towards  yourself.  I  thank  you  for  the  hints  you  have 
thrown  out  before  my  appearance,  the  suddenness  of  which 
alone  has  prevented  you  from  carrying  your  confidence  to  a 
pitch  which  would  have  placed  my  life  and  that  of  others  at 
the  discretion  of  a  boy,  who,  when  the  cause  of  God  and  his 
country  is  laid  before  him,  has  not  leisure  to  think  of  them, 
so  much  is  he  occupied  with  such  a  baby-face  as  thine." 
Alice,  pale  as  death,  continued  motionless,  with  her  eyes 
fixed  on  the  ground,  without  attempting  the  slightest  reply 
to  the  ironical  reproaches  of  her  father. 

"  And  you,"  continued  Major  Bridgenorth,  turning  from 
his  daughter  to  her  lover — '^you,  sir,  have  well  repaid  the 
liberal  confidence  which  I  placed  in  you  with  so  little  re- 
serve. You  I  have  to  thank  also  for  some  lessons,  which 
may  teach  me  to  rest  satisfied  with  the  churl^s  blood  which 
nature  has  poured  into  my  veins,  and  with  the  rude  nurture 
which  my  father  allotted  to  me." 

''  I  understand  you  not,  sir,"  replied  Julian  Peveril,  who, 
feeling  the  necessity  of  saying  something,  could  not,  at  the 
moment,  find  anything  more  fitting  to  say. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  thank  you,"  said  Major  Bridgenorth,  in  the 
same  cold,  sarcastic  tone,  ^^for  having  shown  me  that  breach 
of  hospitality,  infringement  of  good  faith,  and  such-like 
peccadilloes,  are  not  utterly  foreign  to  the  mind  and  conduct 
of  the  heir  of  a  knightly  house  of  twenty  descents.  It  is  a 
great  lesson  to  me,  sir  ;  for  hitherto  I  had  thought  with  the 
vulgar  that  gentle  manners  went  with  gentle  blood.  But 
perhaps  courtesy  is  too  chivalrous  a  quality  to  be  wasted  in 
intercourse  with  a  Eoundheaded  fanatic  like  myself." 

"  Major  Bridgenorth,"  said  Julian,  "  whatever  has  hap- 
pened in  this  interview  which  may  have  displeased  you  has 
been  the  result  of  feelings  suddenly  and  strongly  animated 
by  the  crisis  of  the  moment :  nothing  was  premeditated. " 

''Not  even  your  meeting,  I  suppose?'  replied  Bridge- 
north,  in  the  same  cold  tone.  *'  You,  sir,  wandered  hither 
from  Holm- Peel,  my  daughter  strolled  forth  from  the  Black 
Fort ;  and  chance,  doubtless,  assigned  yea  a  meeting  by  the 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  189 

stone  of  Goddard  Crovan  ?  Young  man,  disgrace  yourself 
by  no  more  apologies ;  they  are  worse  than  useless.  And 
you,  maiden,  who,  in  your  fear  of  losing  your  lover,  could 
verge  on  betraying  what  might  have  cost  a  father  his  life, 
begone  to  your  home.  I  will  talk  with  you  at  more  leisure, 
and  teach  you  practically  those  duties  which  you  seem  to 
have  forgotten/' 

''  On  my  honor,  sir,''  said  Julian,  ''  your  daughter  is  guilt- 
less of  all  that  can  offend  you  :  she  resisted  every  offer 
which  the  headstrong  violence  of  my  passion  urged  me  to 
press  upon  her." 

'^  And,  in  brief,"  said  Bridgenorth,  *'  I  am  not  to  believe 
that  you  have  met  in  this  remote  place  of  rendezvous  by 
Alice's  special  appointment  ?  " 

Peveril  knew  not  what  to  reply,  and  Bridgenorth  again 
signed  with  his  hand  to  his  daughter  to  withdraw. 

''  I  obey  you,  father,"  said  Alice,  who  had  by  this  time 
recovered  from  the  extremity  of  her  surprise — '^  I  obey  you  ; 
but  Heaven  is  my  witness  that  you  do  me  more  than  injus- 
tice in  suspecting  me  capable  of  betraying  your  secrets,  even 
had  it  been  necessary  to  save  my  own  life  or  that  of  Julian. 
That  you  are  walking  in  a  dangerous  path  I  well  know  ;  but 
you  do  it  with  your  eyes  open,  and  are  actuated  by  motives 
of  which  you  can  estimate  the  worth  and  value.  My  sole 
wish  was,  that  this  young  man  should  not  enter  blindfold  on 
the  same  perils  ;  and  I  had  a  right  to  warn  him,  since  the 
feelings  by  which  he  is  hoodwinked  had  a  direct  reference 
to  me." 

"'Tis  well,  minion/'  said  Bridgenorth,  "  you  have  spoken 
your  say.  Retire,  and  let  me  complete  the  conference  which 
you  have  so  considerately  commenced." 

*'I  go,  sir,"  said  Alice.  ^'Julian,  to  you  my  last  words 
are,  and  I  would  speak  them  with  my  last  breath---'  Fare- 
well, and  caution  ! ' " 

She  turned  from  them,  disappeared  among  the  under- 
wood, and  was  seen  no  more. 

'*  A  true  specimen  of  womankind,"  said  her  father,  look- 
ing after  her,  *'  who  would  give  the  cause  of  nations  up, 
rather  than  endanger  a  hair  of  her  lover's  head.  You, 
Master  Peveril,  doubtless,  hold  her  opinion,  that  the  best 
love  is  a  safe  love  ?  " 

"Were  danger  alone  in  my  way,"  said  Peveril,  much  sur- 
prised at  the  softened  tone  in  which  Bridgenorth  made  this 
observation,  '^  there  are  few  things  which  I  would  not  face 
to— to— deserve  your  good  opinion." 


190  WAVERLEY  NOVELS. 


''Or  rather  to  win  my  daughter's  hand/'  said  Bridge- 
north.  *'  Well,  young  man,  one  thing  has  pleased  me  in 
your  conduct,  though  of  much  I  have  my  reasons  to  com- 
plain— one  thing  has  pleased  me.  You  have  surmounted 
that  bounding  wall  of  aristocratical  pride,  in  which  your 
father,  and,  I  suppose,  his  fathers,  remained  imprisoned,  as 
in  the  precincts  of  a  feudal  fortress — you  have  leaped  over 
this  barrier,  and  shown  yourself  not  unwilling  to  ally  your- 
self with  a  family  whom  your  father  spurns  as  low-born  and 
ignoble/' 

However  favorable  this  speech  sounded  towards  success  in 
his  suit,  it  so  broadly  stated  the  consequences  of  that  suc- 
cess so  far  as  his  parents  were  concerned,  that  Julian  felt  it 
in  the  last  degree  difficult  to  reply.  At  length,  perceiving 
that  Major  Bridgenorth  seemed  resolved  quietly  to  await  his 
answer,  he  mustered  up  courage  to  say,  '^  The  feelings  which 
I  entertain  towards  your  daughter.  Master  Bridgenorth,  are 
of  a  nature  to  supersede  many  other  considerations,  to  which, 
in  any  other  case,  I  should  feel  it  my  duty  to  give  the  most 
reverential  attention.  I  will  not  disguise  from  you,  that  my 
father's  prejudice  against  such  a  match  would  be  very 
strong  ;  but  I  devoutly  believe  they  would  disappear  when 
he  came  \o  know  the  merit  of  Alice  Bridgenorth,  and  to  be 
sensible  that  she  only  could  make  his  son  happy." 

*'In  the  meanwhile,  you  are  desirous  to  complete  the 
union  which  you  propose  without  the  knowledge  of  your 
parents,  and  take  the  chance  of  their  being  hereafter  recon- 
ciled to  it  ?  So  I  understand,  from  the  proposal  which  you 
made  but  lately  to  my  daughter." 

The  turns  of  human  nature,  and  of  human  passion,  are  so 
irregular  and  uncertain,  that,  although  Julian  had  but  a  few 
minutes  before  urged  to  Alice  a  private  marriage,  and  an 
elopement  to  the  Continent,  as  measures  upon  which  the 
whole  happiness  of  his  life  depended,  the  proposal  seemed 
not  to  him  half  so  delightful  when  stated  by  the  calm,  cold, 
dictatorial  accents  of  her  father.  It  sounded  no  longer  like 
the  impusles  of  ardent  passion,  throwing  all  other  consider- 
ations aside,  but  as  a  distinct  surrender  of  the  dignity  of  his 
house  to  one  who  seemed  to  consider  their  relative  situation 
as  the  triumph  of  Bridgenorth  over  Peveril.  He  was  mute 
for  a  moment,  in  the  vain  attempt  to  shape  his  answer  so  as 
at  once  to  intimate  acq^uiescence  in  what  Bridgenorth  stated 
and  a  vindication  of  his  own  regard  for  his  parents  and  for 
the  honor  of  his  house. 

This  delay  gave  rise  to  suspicion,  and  Bridgenorth's  eye 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  191 

gleamed  and  his  lip  quivered  while  he  gave  vent  to  it 
"  Hark  ye,  young  man — deal  openly  with  me  in  this  matter, 
if  you  would  not  have  me  think  you  the  execrable  villain  who 
would  have  seduced  an  unhappy  girl  under  promises  which 
he  never  designed  to  fulfil.  Let  me  but  suspect  this  and  you 
shall  see,  on  the  spot,  how  far  your  pride  and  your  pedigree 
will  preserve  you  against  the  Just  vengenance  of  a  father/' 

*'  You  do  me  wrong,"  said  Peveril — "  you  do  me  infinite 
wrong.  Major  Bridgenorth.  I  am  incapable  of  the  infamy 
which  you  allude  to.  The  proposal  I  made  to  your  daughter 
was  as  sincere  as  ever  was  offered  by  man  to  woman.  I  only 
hesitated,  because  you  think  it  necessary  to  examine  me  so 
very  closely,  and  to  possess  yourself  of  all  my  purposes  and 
sentiments,  in  their  fullest  extent,  without  explaining  to  me 
the  tendency  of  your  own/' 

^'Your  proposal,  then,  shapes  itself  thus,"  said  Bridge- 
north  :  "  you  are  willing  to  lead  my  only  child  into  exile  from 
her  native  country,  to  give  her  a  claim  to  kindness  and  pro- 
tection from  your  family,  which  you  know  will  be  disre- 
garded, on  condition  I  consent  to  bestow  her  hand  on  you, 
with  a  fortune  sufficient  to  have  matched  that  of  your  an- 
cestors, when  they  had  most  reason  to  boast  of  their  wealth. 
This,  young  man,  seems  no  equal  bargain.  And  yet,"  he 
continued,  after  a  momentary  pause,  '^so  little  do  I  value 
the  goods  of  this  world,  that  it  might  not  be  utterly  beyond 
thy  power  to  reconcile  me  to  the  match  which  you  have  pro- 
posed to  me,  however  unequal  it  may  appear." 

^'  Show  me  but  the  means  which  can  propitiate  your  favor. 
Major  Bridgenorth,"  said  Peveril,  "for  I  will  not  doubt  that 
they  will  be  consistent  with  my  honor  and  duty,  and  you 
shall  soon  see  how  eagerly  I  will  obey  your  directions,  or  sub- 
mit to  your  conditions." 

"  They  are  summed  in  few  words,"  answered  Bridgenorth  : 
f'be  an  honest  man,  and  the  friend  of  your  country." 

"  No  one  has  ever  doubted,"  replied  Peveril,  ^'  that  I  am 
both." 

"  Pardon  me,"  replied  the  major  ;  "  no  one  has  as  yet  seen 
you  show  yourself  either.  Interrupt  me  not — I  question  not 
your  will  to  be  both  ;  but  you  have  hitherto  neither  had  the 
light  nor  the  opportunity  necessary  for  the  display  of  your 
principles  or  the  service  of  your  country.  You  have  lived 
when  an  apathy  of  mind,  succeeding  to  the  agitations  of  the 
Civil  War,  had  made  men  indifferent  to  state  affairs,  and 
more  willing  to  cultivate  their  own  ease  than  to  stand  in  the 
gap  when  the  Lord  was  pleading  with  Israel.     But  we  are 


192  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Englishmen ;  and  with  us  such  unnatural  lethargy  cannot 
continue  long.  Already,  many  of  those  who  most  desired 
the  return  of  Charles  Stuart  regard  him  as  a  king  whom 
Heaven,  importuned  by  our  entreaties,  gave  to  us  in  His 
anger.  His  unlimited  license — an  example  so  readily  fol- 
lowed by  the  young  and  the  gay  around  him — has  disgusted 
the  minds  of  all  sober  and  thinking  men.  I  had  not  now 
held  conference  with  you  in  this  intimate  fashion,  were  I  not 
aware  that  you.  Master  Julian,  were  free  from  such  stain  of 
the  times.  Heaven,  that  rendered  the  King's  course  of 
license  fruitful,  has  denied  issue  to  his  bed  of  wedlock  ;  and 
in  the  gloomy  and  stern  character  of  his  bigoted  successor 
we  already  see  what  sort  of  monarch  shall  succeed  to  the 
crown  of  England.  This  is  a  critical  period,  at  which  it 
necessarily  becomes  the  duty  of  all  men  to  step  forward,  each 
in  his  degree,  and  aid  in  rescuing  the  country  which  gave  us 
birth.''  Peveril  remembered  the  warning  which  he  had  re- 
ceived from  Alice,  and  bent  his  eyes  on  the  ground,  without 
returning  any  reply.  "  How  is  it,  young  man,"  continued 
Bridgenorth,  after  a  pause,  "so  young  as  thou  art,  and 
bound  by  no  ties  of  kindred  profligacy  with  the  enemies  of 
your  country,  you  can  be  already  hardened  to  the  claims  she 
may  form  on  you  at  this  crisis  ?  " 

"  It  were  easy  to  answer  you  generally.  Major  Bridgenorth," 
replied  Peveril — "  it  were  easy  to  say  that  my  country  can- 
not make  a  claim  on  me  which  I  will  not  promptly  answer  at 
the  risk  of  lands  and  life.  But  in  dealing  thus  generally, 
we  should  but  deceive  each  other.  What  is  the  nature  of 
this  call  ?  By  whom  is  it  to  be  sounded  ?  And  what  are  to 
be  the  results  ?  for  I  think  you  have  already  seen  enough  of 
the  evils  of  civil  war  to  be  wary  of  again  awakening  its 
terrors  in  a  peaceful  and  happy  country." 

''  They  that  are  drenched  with  poisonous  narcotics,"  said 
the  major,  "  must  be  awakened  by  their  physicians,  though 
it  were  with  the  sound  of  the  trumpet.  Better  that  men 
should  die  bravely,  with  their  arms  in  their  hands,  like  free 
born  Englishmen,  than  that  they  should  slide  into  the  blood- 
less "but  dishonored  grave  which  slavery  opens  for  its  vassals. 
But  it  is  not  of  war  that  I  was  about  to  speak,"  he  added, 
assuming  a  milder  tone.  "  The  evils  of  which  England  now 
complains  are  such  as  can  be  remedied  by  the  wholesome  ad- 
ministration of  her  own  laws,  even  in  the  state  in  which 
they  are  still  suffered  to  exist.  Have  these  laws  not  a  right 
to  the  support  of  every  individual  who  lives  under  them  ? 
Have  they  not  a  right  to  yours  ?  " 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  m 

As  he  seemed  to  pause  for  an  answer,  Peveril  replied,  *^  I 
have  to  learn.  Major  Bridgenorth,  how  the  laws  of  England 
have  become  so  far  weakened  as  to  require  such  support  as 
mine.  When  that  is  made  plain  to  me,  no  man  will  more 
willingly  discharge  the  duty  of  a  faithful  liegeman  to  the 
law  as  well  as  the  king.  But  the  laws  of  England  are  under 
the  guardianship  of  uprfght  and  learned  judges  and  of  a 
gracious  monarch.^'' 

'^  And  of  a  House  of  Commons,^'  interrupted  Bridgenorth, 
''^no  longer  doting  upon  restored  monarchy,  but  awakened, 
as  with  a  peal  of  thunder,  to  the  perilous  state  of  our  re- 
ligion and  of  our  freedom.  I  appeal  to  your  own  conscience, 
Julian  Peveril,  whether  this  awakening  hath  not  been  in 
time  since  you  youi-self  know,  and  none  better  than  you,  the 
secret  but  rapid  strides  which  Eome  has  made  to  erect  her 
Dagon  of  idolatry  within  our  Protestant  land.'' 

Here  Julian,  seeing,  or  thinking  he  saw,  the  drift  of 
Bridgenorth^s  suspicions,  hastened  to  exculpate  himself 
from  the  thought  of  favoring  the  Roman  Catholic  religion. 
'^  It  is  true,''  he  said,  "  I  have  been  educated  in  a  family 
where  that  faith  is  professed  by  one  honored  individual,  and 
that  I  have  since  traveled  in  Popish  countries  ;  but  even  for 
these  very  reasons  I  have  seen  Popery  too  closely  to  be 
friendly  to  its  tenets.  The  bigotry  of  the  laymen,  the  per- 
severing arts  of  the  priesthood,  the  perpetual  intrigue  for 
the  extension  of  the  forms  without  the  spirit  of  religion,  the 
usurpation  of  that  church  over  the  consciences  of  men,  and 
her  impious  pretensions  to  infallibility,  are  as  inconsistent 
to  my  mind  as  they  can  seem  to  yours  with  common  sense, 
rational  liberty,  freedom  of  conscience,  and  pure  religion." 

'^  Spoken  like  the  son  of  your  excellent  mother!"  said 
Bridgenorth,  grasping  his  hand,  *^for  whose  sake  I  have 
consented  to  endure  so  much  from  your  house  unrequited, 
even  when  the  means  of  requital  were  in  my  own  hand." 

''  It  was  indeed  from  the  instructions  of  that  excellent 
parent,"  said  Peveril,  "that  I  was  enabled,  in  my  early 
youth,  to  resist  and  repel  the  insidious  attacks  made  upon 
my  religious  faith  by  the  Catholic  priests  into  whose  com- 
pany I  was  necessarily  thrown.  Like  her,  I  trust  to  live  and 
die  in  the  faith  of  the  Eeformed  Church  of  England." 

"  The  Church  of  England  !  "  said  Bridgenorth,  dropping 
his  young  friend's  hand,  but  presently  resuming  it.  "  Alas  ! 
that  church,  as  now  constituted,  usurps  scarcely  less  than 
Rome  herself  upon  men's  consciences  and  liberties  ;  yet,  out 
of  the  weakness  of  this  half-reformed  church,  may  God  h% 
13 


m  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

pleased  to  work  ont  deliverance  to  England  and  praise  to 
Himself.  I  must  not  forget  that  one  whose  services  have 
been  in  the  cause  incalculable  wears  the  garb  of  an  English 
priest,  and  hath  had  Episcopal  ordination.  It  is  not  for 
us  to  challenge  the  instrument,  so  that  our  escape  is  achieved 
from  the  net  of  the  fowler.  Enough,  that  I  find  thee  not  as 
yet  enlightened  with  the  purer  doctrine,  but  prepared  to 
profit  by  it  when  the  spark  shall  reach  thee.  Enough  in 
especial,  that  I  find  thee  willing  to  uplift  thy  testimony,  to 
cry  aloud  and  spare  not,  against  the  errors  and  arts  of  the 
Church  of  Rome.  But,  remember,  what  thou  hast  now  said, 
thou  wilt  soon  be  called  upon  to  justify,  in  a  manner  the 
most  solemn — the  most  awful. ^^ 

^' What  I  have  said,"  replied  Julian  Peveril,  ''being  the 
unbiassed  sentiments  of  my  heart,  shall,  upon  no  proper  occa- 
sion, want  the  support  of  my  open  avowal ;  and  I  think  it 
strange  you  should  doubt  me  so  far." 

"I  doubt  thee  not,  my  young  friend,"  said  Bridgenorth  ; 
**  and  I  trust  to  see  thy  name  rank  high  amongst  those  by 
whom  the  prey  shall  be  rent  from  the  mighty.  At  present, 
thy  prejudices  occupy  thy  mind  like  the  strong  keeper  oi 
the  house  mentioned  in  Scripture.  But  there  shall  come  a 
stronger  than  he,  and  make  forcible  entry,  displaying  on  the 
battlements  that  sign  of  faith  in  which  alone  there  is  found 
salvation.   Watch,  hope,  and  pray,  that  the  hour  may  come  !  ^ 

There  was  a  pause  in  the  conversation,  which  was  first 
broken  by  Peveril.  ''  You  have  spoken  to  me  in  riddles. 
Major  Bridgenorth  ;  and  I  have  asked  you  for  no  explana- 
tion. Listen  to  a  caution  on  my  part,  given  with  the  most 
sincere  good-will.  Take  a  hint  from  me,  and  believe  it, 
though  it  is  darkly  expressed.  You  are  here — at  least  ar& 
believed  to  be  here — on  an  errand  dangerous  to  the  lord  of 
the  island.  That  danger  will  be  retorted  on  yourself,  if  you 
make  Man  long  your  place  of  residence.  Be  warned,  and 
depart  in  time." 

''  And  leave  my  daughter  to  the  guardianship  of  Julian 
Peveril?  Runs  not  your  counsel  so,  young  man?"  an- 
swered Bridgenorth.  '^  Trust  my  safety,  Julian,  to  my  own 
prudence.  I  have  been  accustomed  to  guide  myself  through 
worse  dangers  than  now  environ  me.  But  I  thank  you  fo» 
your  caution,  which  I  am  willing  to  believe  was  at  leasi 
partly  disinterested." 

''  We  do  not,  then,  part  in  anger  ?  "  said  Peveril. 

*'  Not  in  anger,  my  son,"  said  Bridgenorth,  "  but  in  love 
and  strong  affection.     For  my  daughter,  thou  must  forbear 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  185 

every  thought  of  seeing  her,  save  through  me.  I  accept  not 
thy  suit,  neither  do  I  reject  it ;  only  this  I  intimate  to  you, 
that  he  who  would  be  my  son  must  first  show  himself  the 
true  and  loving  child  of  his  oppressed  and  deluded  country. 
Farewell !  Do  not  answer  me  now  ;  thou  art  yet  in  the  gall 
of  bitterness,  and  it  may  be  that  strife,  which  I  desire  not, 
should  fall  between  us.  Thou  shalt  hear  of  me  sooner  than 
thou  thinkest  for." 

He  shook  Peveril  heartily  by  the  hand,  and  again  bid  him 
farewell,  leaving  him  under  the  confused  and  mingled  im- 
pression of  pleasure,  doubt,  and  wonder.  Not  a  little  sur- 
prised to  find  himself  so  far  in  the  good  graces  of  Alice's 
father  that  his  suit  was  even  favored  with  a  sort  of  negative 
encouragement,  he  could  not  help  suspecting,  as  well  from 
the  language  of  the  daughter  as  of  the  father,  that  Bridge- 
north  was  desirous,  as  the  price  of  his  favor,  that  he  should 
adopt  some  line  of  conduct  inconsistent  with  the  principles 
in  which  he  had  been  educated. 

''You  need  not  fear,  Alice,''  he  said  in  his  heart ;  ''not 
even  your  hand  would  I  purchase  by  aught  which  resembled 
unworthy  or  truckling  compliance  with  tenets  which  my 
heart  disowns  ;  and  well  I  know,  were  I  mean  enough  to  do 
so,  even  the  authority  of  thy  father  were  insufficient  to  com- 
pel thee  to  the  ratification  of  so  mean  a  bargain.  But  let 
me  hope  better  things.  Bridgenorth,  though  strong-minded 
and  sagacious,  is  haunted  by  the  fears  of  Popery,  which  are 
the  bugbears  of  his  sect.  My  residence  in  the  family  of  the 
Countess  of  Derby  is  more  than  enough  to  inspire  him  with 
suspicions  of  my  faith,  from  which,  thank  Heaven,  I  can 
vindicate  myself  with  truth  and  a  good  conscience." 

So  thinking,  he  again  adjusted  the  girths  of  his  palfrey,  re- 
placed the  bit  which  he  had  slipped  out  of  its  mouth  that 
it  might  feed  at  liberty,  and  mounting,  pursued  his  way  back 
to  the  Castle  of  Holm- Peel,  where  he  could  not  help  fearing 
that  something  extraordinary  might  have  happened  in  his 
absence. 

But  the  old  pile  soon  rose  before  him,  serene  and  sternly 
still,  amid  the  sleeping  ocean.  The  banner,  which  indicated 
that  the  Lord  of  Man  held  residence  within  its  ruinous  pre- 
cincts, hung  motionless  by  the  ensign-staff.  The  sentinels 
walked  to  and  fro  on  their  posts,  and  hummed  or  whistled 
their  Manx  airs.  Leaving  his  faithful  companion.  Fairy,  in 
the  village  as  before,  Julian  entered  the  castle,  and  found 
all  within  in  the  same  state  of  quietness  and  good  order 
which  external  appearances  had  announced. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Now  rede  me,  rede  me,  brother  dear, 

Throughout  Merry  England, 
Where  will  I  find  a  messenger, 

Betwixt  us  two  to  send. 

Ballad  of  King  Estmere, 

Julian's  first  rencounter,  after  re-entering  the  castle,  was 
with  its  young  lord,  who  received  him  with  his  usual  kind- 
ness and  lightness  of  humor. 

*^  Thrice  welcome.  Sir  Knight  of  Dames,'^  said  the  earl ; 
"  here  you  rove  gallantly,  and  at  free  will,  through  our  do- 
minions, fulfilling  of  appointments  and  achieving  amorous 
adventures  ;  while  we  are  condemned  to  sit  in  our  royal  halls, 
as  dull  and  as  immovable  as  if  our  Majesty  was  carved  on  the 
stern  of  some  Manx  smuggling  dogger,  and  christened  the 
'  King  Arthur '  of  Ramsey/' 

*'  Nay,  in  that  case  you  would  take  the  sea,''  said  Julian, 
"  and  so  enjoy  travel  and  adventure  enough." 

"  Oh,  but  suppose  me  wind-bound,  or  detained  in  harbor 
by  a  revenue  pink,  or  ashore,  if  you  like  it,  and  lying  high 
and  dry  upon  the  sand.  Imagine  the  royal  image  in  the 
dullest  of  all  predicaments,  and  you  have  not  equaled 
mine." 

*'  I  am  happy  to  hear,  at  least,  that  you  have  had  no  dis- 
agreeable employment,"  said  Julian  ;  "  the  morning's  alarm 
has  blown  over,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  In  faith  it  has,  Julian  ;  and  our  close  inquiries  cannot 
find  any  cause  for  the  apprehended  insurrection.  That 
Bridgenorth  is  in  the  island  seems  certain  ;  but  private  af- 
fairs of  consequence  are  alleged  as  the  cause  of  his  visit ;  and 
I  am  not  desirous  to  have  him  arrested  unless  I  could  prove 
some  malpractises  against  him  and  his  companions.  In  fact, 
it  would  seem  we  had  taken  the  alarm  too  soon.  My  mother 
speaks  of  consulting  you  on  the  subject,  Julian  ;  and  I  will 
not  anticipate  her  solemn  communication.  It  will  be  partly 
apologetical,  I  suppose  ;  for  we  begin  to  think  our  retreat 
rather  unroyal,  and  that,  like  the  wicked,  we  have  fled  when 
no  man  pursued.  This  idea  afflicts  my  mother,  who,  as  a 
queen-dowager,  a  queen-regent,  a  heroine,  and  a  woman  in 


I 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  1»7 

general,  would  be  extremely  mortified  to  think  that  her  pre- 
cipitate retreat  hither  had  exposed  her  to  the  ridicule  of  the 
islanders  ;  and  she  is  disconcerted  and  out  of  humor  accord- 
ingly. In  the  meanwhile,  my  sole  amusement  has  been  the 
grimaces  and  fantastic  gestures  of  that  ape  Fenela,  who  is 
more  out  of  humor,  and  more  absurd  in  consequence,  than 
you  ever  saw  her.  Morris  says  it  is  because  you  pushed  her 
down-stairs,  Julian — how  is  that  ?  " 

"  Nay,  Morris  has  misreported  me,''  answered  Julian  ;  "  I 
did  but  lift  her  «^^-stairs  to  be  rid  of  her  importunity  ;  for 
she  chose,  in  her  way,  to  contest  my  going  abroad  in  such  an 
obstinate  manner  that  I  had  no  other  mode  of  getting  rid  of 
her." 

"  She  must  have  supposed  your  departure,  at  a  moment 
so  critical,  was  dangerous  to  the  state  of  our  garrison," 
answered  the  earl ;  ^*  it  shows  how  dearly  she  esteems  my 
mother's  safety,  how  highly  she  rates  your  prowess.  But, 
thank  Heaven,  there  sounds  the  dinner-bell.  I  would  the 
philosophers,  who  find  a  sin  and  waste  of  time  in  good  cheer, 
could  devise  us  any  pastime  half  so  agreeable." 

The  meal  which  the  young  earl  had  thus  longed  for,  as  a 
means  of  consuming  a  portion  of  the  time  which  hung  heavy 
on  his  hands,  was  soon  over  ;  as  soon,  at  least,  as  the  habitual 
and  stately  formality  of  the  countess's  household  permitted. 
She  herself,  accompanied  by  her  gentlewoman  and  attend- 
ants, retired  early  after  the  tables  were  drawn  ;  and  the 
young  gentlemen  were  left  to  their  own  company.  Wine 
had,  for  the  moment,  no  charms  for  either  ;  for  the  earl  was 
out  of  spirits  from  ennui,  and  impatience  of  his  monotonous 
and  solitary  course  of  life  ;  and  the  events  of  the  day  had 
given  Peveril  too  much  matter  for  reflection  to  permit  his 
starting  amusing  or  interesting  topics  of  conversation.  After 
having  passed  the  flask  in  silence  betwixt  them  once  or  twice, 
they  withdrew  each  into  a  separate  embrasure  of  the  windows 
of  the  dining-apartment,  which,  such  was  the  extreme  thick- 
ness of  the  wall,  were  deep  enough  to  afford  a  solitary  recess, 
separated,  as  it  were,  from  the  chamber  itself.  In  one  of 
these  sat  the  Earl  of  Derby,  busied  in  looking  over  some 
of  the  new  publications  which  had  been  forwarded  from 
London  ;  and  at  intervals  confessing  how  little  power  or  in- 
terest these  had  for  him,  by  yawning  fearfully  as  -he  looked 
out  on  the  solitary  expanse  of  waters,  which,  save  for  the 
flight  of  a  flock  of  sea-gulls  or  of  a  solitary  cormorant,  of- 
fered so  little  of  variety  to  engage  his  attention. 

Peveril,  on  his  part,  neld  a  pamphlet  also  in  his  hand,  with- 


198  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

out  giving,  or  affecting  to  give,  it  even  his  occasional  atten- 
tion. His  whole  soul  turned  upon  the  interview  which  he 
had  had  that  day  with  Alice  Bridgenorth  and  with  her  father ; 
while  he  in  vain  endeavored  to  form  any  hypothesis  which 
could  explain  to  him  why  the  daughter,  to  whom  he  had  no 
reason  to  think  himself  indifferent,  should  have  been  so 
suddenly  desirous  of  their  eternal  separation,  while  her 
father,  whose  opposition  he  so  much  dreaded,  seemed  to  be 
at  least  tolerant  of  his  addresses.  He  could  only  suppose,  in 
explanation,  that  Major  Bridgenorth  had  some  plan  in  pros- 
pect which  it  was  in  his  own  power  to  further  or  to  impede ; 
while,  from  the  demeanor,  and  indeed  the  language,  of 
Alice,  he  had  but  too  much  reason  to  apprehend  that  her 
father's  favor  could  only  be  conciliated  by  something,  on 
his  own  part,  approaching  to  dereliction  of  principle.  But 
by  no  conjecture  which  he  could  form  could  he  make  the 
least  guess  concerning  the  nature  of  that  compliance  of 
which  Bridgenorth  seemed  desirous.  He  could  not  imagine, 
notwithstanding  Alice  had  spoken  of  treachery,  that  her 
father  would  dare  to  propose  to  him  uniting  in  any  plan  by 
which  the  safety  of  the  countess,  or  the  security  of  her  little 
kingdom  of  Man,  was  to  be  endangered.  This^  carried  such 
indelible  disgrace  in  the  front,  that  he  could  not  suppose 
the  scheme  proposed  to  him  by  any  who  was  not  prepared  to 
defend  with  his  sword,  upon  the  spot,  so  flagrant  an  insult 
offered  to  his  honor.  And  such  a  proceeding  was  totally 
inconsistent  with  the  conduct  of  Major  Bridgenorth  in  every 
other  respect,  besides  his  being  too  calm  and  cold-blooded 
to  permit  of  his  putting  a  mortal  affront  upon  the  son  of  his 
old  neighbor,  to  whose  mother  he  confessed  so  much  of  obli- 
gation. 

While  Peveril  in  vain  endeavored  to  extract  something 
like  a  probable  theory  out  of  the  hints  thrown  out  by  the 
father  and  by  the  daughter — not  without  the  additional  and 
lover-like  labor  of  endeavoring  to  reconcile  his  passion  to  his 
honor  and  conscience — he  felt  something  gently  pull  him  by 
the  cloak.  He  unclasped  his  arms,  which,  in  meditation, 
had  been  folded  on  his  bosom  ;  and  withdrawing  his  eyes 
from  the  vacant  prospect  of  sea-coast  and  sea  which  they 
perused,  without  much  consciousness  upon  what  they  rested, 
he  beheld  beside  him  the  little  dumb  maiden,  the  elfin 
Fenella.  She  was  seated  on  a  low  cushion  or  stool,  with 
which  she  had  nestled  close  to  Peveril's  side,  and  had  re- 
mained there  for  a  short  space  of  time,  expecting,  no  doubt, 
he  would  become  conscious  of  her  presence  ;  until,  tired  oi 


"He  beheld  beside  him  the  little  dumb  maiden,  the  elfin  Fenella.'' 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  199 

remaining  unnoticed,  she  at  length  solicited  his  attention  in 
the  manner  which  we  have  described.  Startled  out  of  his 
reverie  by  this  intimation  of  her  presence,  he  looked  down, 
and  could  not,  without  interest,  behold  this  singular  and 
helpless  being. 

Her  hair  was  unloosened,  and  streamed  over  her  shoulders 
in  such  length,  that  much  of  it  lay  upon  the  ground,  and  in 
such  quantity,  that  it  formed  a  dark  veil  or  shadow,  not 
only  around  her  face,  but  over  her  whole  slender  and  minute 
form.  From  the  profusion  of  her  tresses  looked  forth  her 
small  and  dark,  but  well-formed,  features,  together  with  the 
large  and  brilliant  black  eyes  ;  and  her  whole  countenance 
was  composed  into  the  imploring  look  of  one  who  is  doubt- 
ful of  the  reception  she  is  about  to  meet  with  from  a  valued 
friend,  while  she  confesses  a  fault,  pleads  an  apology,  or 
solicits  a  reconciliation.  In  short,  the  whole  face  was  so 
much  alive  with  expression,  that  Julian,  though  her  aspect 
was  so  familiar  to  him,  could  hardly  persuade  himself  but 
that  her  countenance  was  entirely  new.  The  wild,  fantastic, 
elvish  vivacity  of  the  features  seemed  totally  vanished,  and 
had  given  place  to  a  sorrowful,  tender,  and  pathetic  cast  of 
countenance,  aided  by  the  expression  of  the  large  dark  eyes, 
which,  as  they  were  turned  up  towards  Julian,  glistened 
with  moisture,  that,  nevertheless  did  not  overflow  the  eye- 
lids. 

Conceiving  that  her  unwonted  manner  arose  from  a  recol- 
lection of  the  dispute  which  had  taken  place  betwixt  them 
in  the  morning,  Peveril  was  anxious  to  restore  the  little 
maiden's  gaiety,  by  making  her  sensible  that  there  dwelt  on 
his  mind  no  unpleasing  recollection  of  their  quarrel.  He 
smiled  kindly,  and  shook  her  hand  in  one  of  his ;  while, 
with  the  familiarity  of  one  who  had  known  her  from  child- 
hood, he  stroked  down  her  long  dark  tresses  with  the  other. 
She  stooped  her  head,  as  if  ashamed  and,  at  the  same  time, 
gratified  with  his  caresses  ;  and  he  was  thus  induced  to  con- 
tinue them,  until,  under  the  veil  of  her  rich  and  abundant 
locks,  he  suddenly  felt  his  other  hand,  which  she  still  held 
fast  in  hers,  slightly  touched  with  her  lips,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  moistened  with  a  tear. 

At  once,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  the  danger  of 
being  misinterpreted  in  his  familiarity  with  a  creature  to 
whom  the  usual  modes  of  explanation  were  a  blank  occurred  , 
to  Julian's  mind;  and,  hastily  withdrawing  his  hand  and 
changing  his  posture,  he  asked  of  her,  by  a  sign  which  cus- 
tom had  rendered  familiar,  whether  she  brought  any  mes' 


aOO  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

sage  to  him  from  the  countess.  In  an  instant  Fenella'i 
whole  deportment  was  changed.  She  started  up  and  ar- 
ranged herself  in  her  seat  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning  ; 
and  at  the  same  moment,  with  one  turn  of  her  hand,  braided 
her  length  of  locks  into  a  natural  head-dress  of  the  most 
beautiful  kind.  There  was,  indeed,  when  she  looked  up,  a 
blush  still  visible  on  her  dark  features  ;  but  their  melancholy 
and  languid  expression  had  given  place  to  that  of  wild  and 
restless  vivacity,  which  was  most  common  to  them.  Her 
eyes  gleamed  with  more  than  their  wonted  fire,  and  her 
glances  were  more  piercingly  wild  and  unsettled  than  usual. 
To  Julian's  inquiry,  she  answered,  by  laying  her  hand  on 
her  heart — a  motion  by  which  she  always  indicated  the 
countess — and  rising  and  taking  the  direction  of  her  apart- 
ment, she  made  a  sign  to  Julian  to  follow  her. 

The  distance  was  not  great  betwixt  the  diniug-apartment 
and  that  to  which  Peveril  now  followed  his  mute  guide ; 
yet,  in  going  thither,  he  had  time  enough  to  suffer  cruelly 
from  the  sudden  suspicion  that  this  unhappy  girl  had  misin- 
terpreted the  uniform  kindness  with  which  he  had  treated 
her,  and  hence  come  to  regard  him  with  feelings  more  ten- 
der than  those  which  belong  to  friendship.  The  misery 
which  such  a  passion  was  likely  to  occasion  to  a  creature  in 
her  helpless  situation,  and  actuated  by  such  lively  feelings, 
was  great  enough  to  make  him  refuse  credit  to  the  suspicion 
which  pressed  itself  upon  his  mind  ;  while,  at  the  same  time, 
he  formed  the  internal  resolution  so  to  conduct  himself  to- 
wards Fenella  as  to  check  such  misplaced  sen(;iments,  if 
indeed  she  unhappily  entertained  them  towards  him. 

When  they  reached  the  countess's  apartment,  they  found 
her  with  writing-implements  and  many  sealed  letters  before 
her.  She  received  Julian  with  her  usual  kindness  ;  and  hav- 
ing caused  him  to  be  seated,  beckoned  to  the  mute  to  re- 
sume her  needle.  In  an  instant  Fenella  was  seated  at  an 
embroidering-frame,  where,  but  for  the  movement  of  her 
dexterous  fingers,  she  might  have  seemed  a  statue,  so  little 
did  she  move  from  her  work  either  head  or  eye.  As  her  in- 
firmity rendered  her  presence  no  bar  to  the  most  confiden- 
tial conversation,  the  countess  proceeded  to  address  Peveril 
as  if  they  had  been  literally  alone  together. 

'*  Julian,''  she  said,  "I  am  not  now  about  to  complain  to 
you  of  the  sentiments  and  conduct  of  Derby.  He  is  your 
friend — he  is  my  son.  He  has  kindness  of  heart  and  yiva-s 
city  of  talent ;  and  yet- " 

**  Dearest  lady,"  said  Peveril>  *'  why  will  you  distress  yopr*. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  901 

gelf  with  fixing  your  eye  on  deficiencies  which  arise  rather 
from  a  change  of  times  and  manners  than  any  degeneracy  of 
my  noble  friend  ?  Let  him  be  once  engaged  in  his  duty, 
whether  in  peace  or  war,  and  let  me  pay  the  penalty  if  he 
acquits  not  himself  becoming  his  high  station/' 

'•'Ay,''  replied  the  countess  ;  ''but  when  will  the  call  of 
duty  prove  superior  to  that  of  the  most  idle  or  trivial  indul- 
gence which  can  serve  to  drive  over  the  lazy  hour  ?  His 
father  was  of  another  mold ;  and  how  often  was  it  my  lot 
to  entreat  that  he  would  spare,  from  the  rigid  discharge  of 
those  duties  which  his  high  station  imposed,  the  relaxation 
absolutely  necessary  to  recruit  his  health  and  his  spirits  ! " 

''Still,  my  dearest  lady,'^  said  Peveril,  ''you  must  allow 
that  the  duties  to  which  the  times  summoned  your  late 
honored  lord  were  of  a  more  stirring,  as  well  as  a  more 
peremptory,  cast  than  those  which  await  your  son." 

*'  I  know  not  that,"  said  the  countess.  "  The  wheel 
appears  to  he  again  revolving ;  and  the  present  period  is  not 
unlikely  to  bring  back  such  scenes  as  my  younger  years 
witnessed.  Well,  be  it  so  ;  they  will  not  find  Charlotte  de 
la  Tremouille  broken  in  spirit,  though  depressed  by  years. 
It  was  even  on  this  subject  I  would  speak  with  you,  my 
young  friend.  Since  our  Jjrst  early  acquaintance,  when  I 
saw  your  gallant  behavior  as  I  issued  forth  to  your  childish 
eye,  like  an  apparition,  from  my  place  of  concealment  in 
your  father's  castle,  it  has  pleased  me  to  think  you  a  true 
son  of  Stanley  and  Peveril.  I  trust  your  nurture  in  this 
family  has  been  ever  suited  to  the  esteem  in  which  I  hold 
you.  Nay,  I  desire  no  thanks.  I  have  to  require  of  you, 
in  return,  a  piece  of  service,  not  perhaps  entirely  safe  to 
yourself,  but  which,  as  times  are  circumstanced,  no  person 
is  so  well  able  to  render  to  my  house." 

"  You  have  been  ever  my  good  and  noble  lady,"  answered 
Peveril,  "' '  as  well  as  my  kind,  and  I  may  say  maternal,  pro- 
tectress. You  have  a  right  to  command  the  blood  of  Stanley 
in  the  veins  of  every  one  ;  you  have  a  thousand  rights  to 
command  it  in  mine."  * 

'^  My  advices  from  England,"  said  the  countess,  *'  resemble 
more  the  dreams  of  a  sick  man  than  the  regular  informa- 
tion which  I  might  have  expected  from  such  correspondents 
as  mine  ;  their  expressions  are  like  those  of  men  who  walk 
in  their  sleep,  and  speak  by  snatches  of  what  passes  in  their 

*  The  reader  cannot  have  forgotten  that  the  Earl  of  Derby  was 
head  of  the  great  house  of  Stanley. 


202:  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

dreams.  It  is  said  a  plot,  real  or  fictitious,  has  been  detected 
amongst  the  Catholics,  which  has  spread  far  wider  and  more 
uncontrollable  terror  than  that  of  the  fifth  of  November. 
Its  outlines  seem  utterly  incredible,  and  are  only  supported 
by  the  evidence  of  wretches  the  meanest  and  most  worthless 
in  the  creation  ;  yet  it  is  received  by  the  credulous  people 
of  England  with  the  most  undoubting  belief.^' 

"  This  is  a  singular  delusion  to  rise  without  some  real 
ground,"  answered  Julian. 

*M  am  no  bigot,  cousin,  though  a  Catholic,"  replied  the 
countess.  '*  I  have  long  feared  that  the  well-meant  zeal  of 
our  priests  for  increasing  converts  would  draw  on  them  the 
suspicion  of  the  English  nation.  These  efforts  have  been 
renewed  with  double  energy  since  the  Duke  of  York  corn- 
formed  to  the  Catholic  faith  ;  and  the  same  event  has 
doubled  the  hate  and  jealousy  of  the  Protestants.  So  far,  I 
fear,  there  may  be  just  cause  for  suspicion  that  the  duke  is 
a  better  Catholic  than  an  Englishman,  and  that  bigotry  has 
involved  him,  as  avarice,  or  the  needy  greed  of  a  prodigal, 
has  engaged  his  brother,  in  relations  with  France,  whereof 
England  may  have  too  much  reason  to  complain.  But  the 
gross,  thick,  and  palpable  fabrications  of  conspiracy  and 
murder,  blood  and  fire — the  imaginary  armies — the  intended 
massacres — form  a  collection  of  falsehoods  that  one  would 
have  thought  indigestible  even  by  the  coarse  appetite  of  the 
vulgar  for  the  marvelous  and  horrible  ;  but  which  are,  never- 
theless, received  as  truth  by  both  Houses  of  Parliament,  and 
questioned  by  no  one  who  is  desirous  to  escape  the  odious 
appellation  of  friend  to  the  bloody  Papists,  and  favorer  of 
their  infernal  schemes  of  cruelty." 

"But  what  say  those  who  are  most  likely  to  be  affected 
by  these  wild  reports  ?  "  said  Julian.  "  What  say  the  Eng- 
lish Catholics  themselves — a  numerous  and  wealthy  body, 
comprising  so  many  noble  names  ?  " 

"Their  hearts  are  dead  within  them,"  said  the  countess. 
"  They  are  like  sheep  penned  up  in  the  shambles,  that  the 
butcher  may  take  his  choice  among  them.  In  the  obscure 
and  brief  communications  which  I  have  had  hj  a  secure  hand, 
they  do  but  anticipate  their  own  utter  rum  and  ours,  so 
general  is  the  depression,  so  universal  the  despair." 

"  But  the  King,"  said  Peveril — "  the  King  and  the  Pro- 
testant Royalists — what  say  they  to  this  growing  tempest  ?  " 

"  Charles,"  replied  the  countess,  "  with  his  usual  selfish 
prudence,  truckles  to  the  storm  ;  and  will  let  cord  and  ax 
do  their  work  on  the  most  innocent  men  in  his  dominions 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  203 

rather  than  lose  an  hour  of  pleasure  in  attempting  their  res- 
cue. And  for  the  Royalists,  either  they  have  caught  the 
general  delirium  which  has  seized  on  Protestants  in  general, 
or  they  stand  aloof  and  neutral,  afraid  to  show  any  interest 
in  the  unhappy  Catholics,  lest  they  be  judged  altogether 
such  as  themselves,  and  abettors  of  the  fearful  conspiracy  in 
which  they  are  alleged  to  be  engaged.  In  fact,  I  cannot 
blame  them.  It  is  hard  to  expect  that  mere  compassion  for 
a  persecuted  sect,  or,  what  is  yet  more  rare,  an  abstract  love 
of  justice,  should  be  powerful  enough  to  engage  men  to  ex- 
pose themselves  to  the  awakened  fury  of  a  whole  people  ;  for, 
in  the  present  state  of  general  agitation,  whoever  disbelieves 
the  least  tittle  of  the  enormous  inprobabilities  which  have 
been  accumulated  by  these  wretched  informers  is  instantly 
hunted  down,  as  one  who  would  smother  the  discovery  of  the 
plot.  It  is  indeed  an  awful  tempest ;  and,  remote  as  we  lie 
from  its  sphere,  we  must  expect  soon  to  feel  its  effects." 

''  Lord  Derby  already  told  me  something  of  this,'"  said 
Julian  ;  '*  and  that  there  were  agents  in  this  island  whose 
object  was  to  excite  insurrection." 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  countess,  and  her  eye  flashed  fire  as 
she  spoke  ;  "  and  had  my  advice  been  listened  to,  they  had 
been  apprehended  in  the  very  fact,  and  so  dealt  with  as  to  be 
a  warning  to  all  others  how  they  sought  this  independent 
principality  on  such  an  errand.  But  my  son,  who  is  gener- 
ally so  culpably  negligent  of  his  own  affairs,  was  pleased  to 
assume  the  management  of  them  upon  this  crisis." 

*'  I  am  happy  to  learn,  madam,"  answered  Peveril,  *'  that 
the  measures  of  precaution  which  my  kinsman  has  adopted 
have  had  the  complete  effect  of  disconcerting  the  conspiracy." 

"  For  the  present,  Julian  ;  but  they  should  have  been  such 
as  would  have  made  the  boldest  tremble  to  think  of  such 
infringements  of  our  right  in  future.  But  Derby's  present 
plan  is  fraught  with  greater  danger  ;  and  yet  there  is  some- 
thing in  it  of  gallantry,  which  has  my  sympathy." 

'*  What  is  it,  madam  ?  "  inquired  Julian,  anxiously  ;  ''  and 
in  what  can  I  aid  it,  or  avert  its  dangers  ?  " 

"  He  purposes,"  said  the  countess,  '*  instantly  to  set  forth 
for  London.  He  is,  he  says,  not  merely  the  feudal  chief  of 
a  small  island,  but  one  of  the  noble  peers  of  England,  who 
must  not  remain  in  the  security  of  an  obscure  and  distant  cas- 
tle when  his  name,  or  that  of  his  mother,  is  slandered  before 
his  prince  and  people.  He  will  take  his  place,  he  says,  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  and  publicly  demand  justice  for  the  insult 
thrown  on  his  house  by  perjured  and  interested  witnesses/* 


204  WA  VERLEY  NO VELS 

**  It  is  a  generous  resolution,  and  worthy  of  my  friend," 
said  Julian  Peveril.  "  I  will  go  with  him  and  share  his  fate, 
be  it  what  it  may." 

''Alas,  foolish  boy  \"  answered  the  countess,  "as  well  may 
you  ask  a  hungry  lion  to  feel  compassion  as  a  prejudiced  and 
furious  people  to  do  justice.  They  are  like  the  madman  at 
the  height  of  frenzy,  who  murders  without  compunction  his 
best  and  dearest  friend  ;  and  only  wonders  and  wails  over  his 
own  cruelty  when  he  is  recovered  from  his  delirium." 

"  Pardon  me,  dearest  lady,"  said  Julian,  "  this  cannot  be. 
The  noble  and  generous  people  of  England  cannot  be  thus 
strangely  misled.  Whatever  prepossessions  may  be  current 
among  the  mere  vulgar,  the  Houses  of  Legislature  cannot 
be  deeply  infected  by  them  ;  they  will  remember  their  own 
dignity." 

"  Alas  !  cousin,"  answered  the  countess,  ''  when  did  Eng- 
lishmen, even  of  the  highest  degree,  remember  anything 
when  hurried  away  by  the  violence  of  party  feeling  ?  Even 
those  who  have  too  much  sense  to  believe  in  the  incredible 
fictions  which  gull  the  multitude,  will  beware  how  they  ex- 
pose them,  if  their  own  political  party  can  gain  a  momentary 
advantage  by  their  being  accredited.  It  is  amongst  such, 
too,  that  your  kinsman  has  found  friends  and  associates. 
Neglecting  the  old  friends  of  his  house,  as  too  grave  and  for- 
mal companions  for  the  humor  of  the  times,  his  intercourse 
has  been  with  the  versatile  Shaftesbury,  the  mercurial  Buck- 
ingham— men  who  would  not  hesitate  to  sacrifice  to  the 
popular  Moloch  of  the  day  whatsoever  or  whomsoever  whose 
ruin  could  propitiate  the  deity.  Forgive  a  mother's  tears, 
kinsman  ;  but  I  see  the  scaffold  at  Bolton  again  erected.  If 
Derby  goes  to  London  while  these  blood-hounds  are  in 
full  cry,  obnoxious  as  he  is,  and  I  have  made  him  by  my  re- 
ligious faith  and  my  conduct  in  this  island,  he  dies  his 
father's  death.  And  yet  upon  what  other  course  to  re- 
solve  !" 

"  Let  me  go  to  London,  madam,"  Baid  Peveril,  much 
moved  by  the  distress  of  his  patroness  ;  "your  ladyship  was 
wont  to  rely  something  on  my  judgment.  I  will  act  for 
the  best — will  communicate  with  those  whom  you  point  out 
to  me,  and  only  with  them  ;  and  I  trust  soon  to  send  you 
information  that  this  delusion,  however  strong  it  may  now 
be,  is  in  the  course  of  passing  away  ;  at  the  worst,  I  can  ap- 
prise you  of  the  danger,  should  it  menace  the  earl  or  your- 
self ;  and  may  be  able  also  to  point  out  the  means  by  which 
it  may  be  eluded/' 


PEVERtL  OF  f3E  PJEAK  ^ 

The  countess  listened  with  a  countenance  in  which  the 
anxiety  of  maternal  affection,  which  prompted  her  to  embrace 
PeveriFs  generous  offer,  struggled  with  her  native  disin- 
terested and  generous  disposition.  '*  Think  what  you  ask 
of  me,  Julian,-''  she  replied,  with  a  sigh.  "  Would  you 
have  me  expose  the  life  of  my  friend's  son  to  those  perils  to 
which  I  refuse  my  own  ?     No,  never  ! " 

''Nay,  but  madam,"  replied  Julian,  ''I  do  not  run  the 
same  risk  :  my  person  is  not  known  in  London  ;  my  situation, 
though  not  obscure  in  my  own  country,  is  too  little  known 
to  be  noticed  in  that  huge  assemblage  of  all  that  is  noble  and 
Tsrealthy.  No  whisper,  I  presume,  however  indirect,  has  con- 
nected my  name  with  the  alleged  conspiracy.  I  am  a  Pro- 
testant, above  all  ;  and  can  be  accused  of  no  intercourse, 
direct  or  indirect,  with  the  Church  of  Eome.  My  con- 
nexions also  lie  amongst  those  who,  if  they  do  not,  or  can- 
not, befriend  me,  cannot  at  least  be  dangerous  to  me.  In  a 
word,  I  run  no  danger  where  the  earl  might  incur  great 
peril/' 

''Alas  !"  said  the  Countess  of  Derby,  "all  this  generous 
reasoning  may  be  true  ;  but  it  could  only  be  listened  to  by 
a  widowed  mother.  Selfish  as  I  am,  I  cannot  but  reflect 
that  my  kinswoman  has,  in  all  events,  the  support  of  an 
affectionate  husband ;  such  is  the  interested  reasoning  to 
which  we  are  not  ashamed  to  subject  our  better  feelings  ! " 

"  Do  not  call  it  so,  madam,"  answered  Peveril ;  "think 
of  me  but  as  the  younger  brother  of  my  kinsman.  You  have 
ever  done  by  me  the  duties  of  a  mother  ;  and  have  a  right 
to  my  filial  service,  were  it  a  risk  ten  times  greater  than  a 
journey  to  London,  to  inquire  into  the  temper  of  the  times. 
1  will  instantly  go  and  announce  my  departure  to  the  earl." 

"  Stay,  Julian,"  said  the  countess  ;  "  if  you  must  make 
this  journey  in  our  behalf — -and,  alas  !  I  have  not  generosity 
enough  to  refuse  your  noble  proffer — you  must  go  alone,  and 
without  communication  with  Derby.  I  know  him  well  : 
his  lightness  of  mind  is  free  from  selfish  baseness  ;  and  for 
the  world,  would  he  not  suffer  you  to  leave  Man  without  his 
company.  And  if  he  went  with  you,  your  noble  and  disin- 
terested kindness  would  be  of  no  avail ;  you  would  but  share 
his  ruin,  as  the  swimmer  who  attempts  to  save  a  drowning 
man  is  involved  in  his  fate,  if  he  permit  the  sufferer  to 
grapple  with  him." 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  please,  madam,"  said  Peveril ;  "  I  am 
ready  to  depart  upon  half  an  hour's  notice." 

"  This  night,  then,"  said  the  countess,  after  a  moment's 


206  WAVBBLEY  NOVELS 

pause — "this  night  I  will  arrange  the  most  secret  means  of 
carrying  your  generous  project  into  effect  ;  for  I  would  not 
excite  that  prejudice  against  you  which  will  instantly  arise 
were  it  known  you  had  so  lately  left  this  island  and  its  Popish 
lady.  You  will  do  well,  perhaps,  to  use  a  feigned  name  in 
London." 

"  Pardon  me,  madam,''  said  Julian  ;  "  I  will  do  nothing 
that  can  draw  on  me  unnecessery  attention  ;  but  to  bear  a 
feigned  name,  or  affect  any  disguise  beyond  living  with  ex- 
treme privacy,  would,  I  think,  be  unwise  as  well  as  unworthv, 
and  what,  if  challenged,  I  might  find  some  difficulty  in 
assigning  a  reason  for,  consistent  with  perfect  fairness  of 
intentions/' 

''  I  believe  you  are  right,"  answered  the  countess,  after  a 
moment's  consideration  ;  and  then  added,  '^  You  propose, 
doubtless,  to  pass  through  Derbyshire  and  visit  Martindale 
Castle?" 

"  I  should  wish  it,  madam,  certainly,"  replied  Peveril, 
''did  time  permit  and  circumstances  render  it  advisable." 

"  Of  that,"  said  the  countess,  ''  you  must  yourself  judge. 
Despatch  is,  doubtless,  desirable ;  on  the  other  hand,  arriv- 
ing from  your  own  family  seat,  you  will  be  less  an  object  of 
doub^  and  suspicion  than  if  you  posted  up  from  hence, 
without  even  visiting  your  parents.  You  must  be  guided 
in  this — in  all — by  your  own  prudence.  Go,  my  dearest 
son — for  to  me  you  should  be  dear  as  a  son — go,  and  pre- 
pare for  your  journey.  I  will  get  ready  some  despatches 
and  a  supply  of  money.  Nay,  do  not  object.  Am  I  not 
your  mother  ;  and  are  you  not  discharging  a  son's  duty  ? 
Dispute  not  my  right  of  defraying  your  expenses.  Nor  is 
this  all ;  for  as  I  must  trust  your  zeal  and  prudence  to  act  in 
our  behalf  when  occasion  shall  demand,  I  will  furnish  you  with 
effectual  recommendations  to  our  friends  and  kindred,  en- 
treating and  enjoining  them  to  render  whatever  aid  you  may 
require,  either  for  your  own  protection  or  the  advancement 
of  what  you  may  propose  in  our  favor." 

Peveril  made  no  farther  opposition  to  an  arrangement 
which  in  truth  the  moderate  state  of  his  own  finances 
rendered  almost  indispensable,  unless  with  his  father's  as- 
sistance ;  and  the  countess  put  into  his  hand  bills  of  ex- 
change to  the  amount  of  two  hundred  pounds,  upon  a 
merchant  in  the  city.  She  then  dismissed  Julian  for  the 
space  of  an  hour  ;  after  which,  she  said,  she  must  again 
require  his  presence. 

The  preparations  for  his  journey  were  not  of  a  nature  to 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  2(W 

divert  the  thoughts  which  speedily  pressed  on  him.  He  found 
that  half  an  hour's  conversation  had  once  more  completely 
changed  his  immediate  prospects  and  plans  for  the  future. 
He  had  offered  to  the  Countess  of  Derby  a  service  which  her 
Liniform  kindness  had  well  deserved  at  his  hand  ;  but,  by 
her  accepting  it,  he  was  upon  the  point  of  being  separated 
from  Alice  Bridgenorth,  at  a  time  when  she  was  become 
dearer  to  him  than  ever,  by  her  avowal  of  mutual  passion. 
Her  image  rose  before  him,  such  as  he  had  that  day  pressed 
her  to  his  bosom  ;  her  voice  was  in  his  ear,  and  seemed  to 
ask  whether  he  could  desert  her  in  the  crisis  which  every- 
thing seemed  to  announce  as  impending.  But  Julian  Peveril, 
his  youth  considered,  was  strict  in  judging  his  duty,  and 
severely  resolved  in  executing  it.  He  trusted  not  his  imagi- 
nation to  pursue  the  vision  which  presented  itself  ;  but 
resolutely  seizing  his  pen,  wrote  to  Alice  the  following  letter, 
explaining  his  situation,  as  far  as  justice  to  the  countess 
permitted  him  to  do  so  : — 

*'I  leave  you,  dearest  Alice,"  thus  ran  the  letter — ''I 
leave  you  ;  and  though,  in  doing  so,  I  but  obey  the  command 
you  have  laid  on  me,  yet  I  can  claim  little  merit  for  my  com- 
pliance, since,  without  additional  and  most  forcible  reasons 
m  aid  of  your  orders,  I  fear  I  should  have  been  unable  to 
comply  with  them.  But  family  affairs  of  importance  compel 
me  to  absent  myself  from  this  island,  for,  I  fear,  more  than 
one  week.  My  thoughts,  hopes,  and  wishes  will  be  on  the 
moment  that  shall  restore  me  to  the  Black  Fort  and  its 
lovely  valley.  Let  me  hope  that  yours  will  sometimes  rest 
on  the  lonely  exile,  whom  nothing  could  render  such  but  the 
command  of  honor  and  duty.  Do  not  fear  that  I  mean  to 
involve  you  in  a  private  correspondence,  and  let  not  your 
father  fear  it.  I  could  not  love  you  so  much,  but  for  the 
openness  and  candor  of  your  nature  ;  and  I  would  not  that 
you  concealed  from  Major  Bridgenorth  one  syllable  of  what 
I  now  avow.  Respecting  other  matters,  he  himself  cannot 
desire  the  welfare  of  our  common  country  with  more  zeal 
than  I.  Differences  may  occur  concerning  the  mode  in 
which  that  is  to  be  obtained ;  but,  in  the  principle,  I  am 
convinced  there  can  be  only  one  mind  between  us  ;  nor  can 
I  refuse  to  listen  to  his  experience  and  wisdom,  even  where 
they  may  ultimately  fail  to  convince  me.  Farewell,  Alice — 
farewell !  Much  might  be  added  to  that  melancholy  word, 
but  nothing  that  could  express  the  bitterness  with  which  it 
is  written.     Yet  I  could  transcribe  it  again  and  again,  rather 


I 


208  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

than  conclude  the  last  communication  which  I  can  have  with 
you  for  some  time.  My  sole  comfort  is,  that  my  stay  will 
scarce  be  so  long  as  to  permit  you  to  forget  one  who  never 
can  forget  you/' 

He  held  the  paper  in  his  hand  for  a  minute  after  he  had 
folded,  but  before  he  had  sealed,  it,  while  he  hurriedly  de- 
bated in  his  own  mind  whether  he  had  not  expressed  himself 
towards  Major  Bridgenorth  in  so  conciliating  a  manner  as 
might  excite  hopes  of  proselytism  which  his  conscience  told 
him  he  could  not  realize  with  honor.  Yet,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  had  no  right,  from  what  Bridgenorth  had  said,  to 
conclude  that  their  principles  were  diametrically  irreconcil- 
able ;  for  though  the  son  of  a  high  Cavalier,  and  educated 
in  the  family  of  the  Countess  of  Derby,  he  was  himself,  upon 
principle,  an  enemy  of  prerogative  and  a  friend  to  the  liberty 
of  the  subject.  And  with  such  considerations  he  silenced 
all  internal  objections  on  the  point  of  honor  ;  although  his 
conscience  secretly  whispered  that  these  conciliatory  expres- 
sions towards  the  father  were  chiefly  dictated  by  the  fear 
that,  during  his  absence,  Major  Bridgenorth  might  be 
tempted  to  change  the  residence  of  his  daughter,  and  per- 
haps to  convey  her  altogether  out  of  his  reach. 

Having  sealed  his  letter,  Julian  called  his  servant,  and 
directed  him  to  carry  it,  under  cover  of  one  addressed  to  Mrs. 
Debbitch,  to  a  house  in  the  town  of  Eushin,  where  packets 
and  messages  intended  for  the  family  at  Black  Fort  were 
usually  deposited  ;  and  for  that  purpose  to  take  horse  imme- 
diately. He  thus  got  rid  of  an  attendant  who  might  have 
been  in  some  degree  a  spy  on  his  motions.  He  then  ex- 
changed the  dress  he  usually  wore  for  one  more  suited  to 
traveling  ;  and,  having  put  a  change  or  two  of  linen  into  a 
small  cloak-bag,  selected  as  arms  a  strong  double-edged 
sword  and  an  excellent  pair  of  pistols,  which  last  he  carefully 
loaded  with  double  bullets.  Thus  appointed,  and  with 
twenty  pieces  in  his  purse,  and  the  bills  we  have  mentioned 
secured  in  a  private  pocketbook,  he  was  in  readiness  to 
depart  as  soon  as  he  should  receive  the  countess's  commands. 

The  buoyant  spirit  of  youth  and  hope,  which  had,  for  a 
moment,  been  chilled  by  the  painful  and  dubious  circum- 
stances in  which  he  was  placed,  as  well  as  the  deprivation 
Thich  he  was  about  to  undergo,  now  revived  in  full  vigor. 
Fancy,  turning  from  more  painful  anticipations,  suggested 
to  him  that  he  was  now  entering  upon  life  at  a  crisis  when 
resolution  and  talents  were  almost  certain  to  make  the  for- 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  90» 

tune  of  their  possessor.  How  could  he  make  a  more 
honorable  entry  on  the  bustling  scene  than  sent  by,  and  act- 
ing in  behalf  of^,  one  of  the  noblest  houses  in  England  ;  and 
should  he  perform  what  his  charge  might  render  incumbent 
with  the  resolution  and  the  prudence  necessary  to  secure 
success,  how  many  occurrences  might  take  place  to  render 
his  mediation  necessary  to  Bridgenorth  ;  and  thus  enable 
him,  on  the  most  equal  and  honorable  terms,  to  establish  a 
claim  to  his  gratitude  and  to  his  daughter's  hand. 

Whilst  he  was  dwelling  on  such  pleasing,  though  imagin- 
ary, prospects,  he  could  not  help  exclaiming  aloud — '^  Yes, 
Alice,  I  will  win  thee  nobly  ! "  The  words  had  scarce  es- 
caped his  lips,  when  he  heard  at  the  door  of  his  apartment, 
which  the  servant  had  left  ajar,  a  sound  like  a  deep  sigh, 
which  was  instantly  succeeded  by  a  gentle  tap.  "  Come  in,'* 
replied  Julian,  somewhat  ashamed  of  his  exclamation,  and 
not  a  little  afraid  that  it  had  been  caught  up  by  some  eaves- 
dropper. '^  Come  in,"  he  again  repeated.  But  his  com- 
mand was  not  obeyed  ;  on  the  contrary,  the  knock  was  re- 
peated somewhat  louder.  He  opened  the  door,  and  Fenella 
stood  before  him. 

With  eyes  that  seemed  red  with  recent  tears,  and  with  a 
look  of  the  deepest  dejection,  the  little  mute,  first  touching 
her  bosom  and  beckoning  with  her  finger,  made  to  him  the 
usual  sign  that  the  countess  desired  to  see  him,  then  turned, 
as  if  to  usher  him  to  her  apartment.  As  he  followed  her 
through  the  long,  gloomy,  vaulted  passages  which  afforded 
communication  betwixt  the  various  departments  of  the 
castle,  he  could  not  but  observe  that  her  usual  light  trip  was 
exchanged  for  a  tardy  and  mournful  step,  which  she  accom- 
panied with  a  low,  inarticulate  moaning  (which  she  was 
probably  the  less  able  to  suppress,  because  she  could  not 
judge  how  far  it  was  audible),  and  also  witli  wringing  of  the 
hands,  and  other  marks  of  extreme  affliction. 

At  this  moment  a  thought  came  across  Peveril's  mind, 
which,  in  spite  of  his  better  reason,  made  him  shudder  in- 
voluntarily. As  a  Peaksman,  and  a  long  resident  in  the 
Isle  of  Man,  he  was  well  acquainted  with  many  a  supersti- 
tious legend,  and  particularly  with  a  belief  which  attached 
to  the  powerful  family  of  the  Stanleys,  for  their  peculiar 
demon,  a  banshie,  or  female  spirit,  who  was  wont  to  shriek, 
''foreboding  evil  times ^' ;  and  who  was  generally  seen  weep^ 
ing  and  bemoaning  herself  before  the  death  of  any  person 
of  distinction  belonging  to  the  family.  For  an  instant, 
Julian  could  scarce  divest  himself  of  the  belief  that  the  wail- 
14 


210  WA VERLEY  NOVELS 

ing,  gibbering  form,  which  glided  before  him,  with  a  lamp 
in  her  hand,  was  the  genius  of  his  mother's  race  come  to  an- 
nounce to  him  his  predestined  doom.  It  instantly  occurred 
to  him  as  an  analogous  reflection,  that,  if  the  suspicion 
which  had  crossed  his  mind  concerning  Fenella  was  a  just 
one,  her  ill-fated  attachment  to  him,  like  that  of  the  pro- 
phetic spirit  to  his  family,  could  bode  nothing  but  disaster, 
and  lamentation,  and  wo. 


CHAPTEE  XIX 

Now,  hoist  the  anchor,  mates,  and  let  the  sails 
Give  their  broad  bosom  to  the  buxom  wind. 
Like  lass  that  woos  a  lover. 

Anonymous, 

The  presence  of  the  countess  dispelled  the  superstitious 
feeling  which,  for  an  instant,  had  encroached  on  Julian's 
imagination,  and  compelled  him  to  give  attention  to  the 
matters  of  ordinary  life.  "  Here  are  your  credentials,"  she 
said,  giving  him  a  small  packet  carefully  put  up  in  a  sealskin 
cover;  ^*you  had  better  not  open  them  till  you  come  to 
London.  You  must  not  be  surprised  to  find  that  there  are 
one  or  two  addressed  to  men  of  my  own  persuasion.  These, 
for  all  our  sakes,  you  will  observe  caution  in  delivering." 

''  I  go  your  messenger,  madam,"  said  Peveril ;  "  and  what- 
ever you  desire  me  to  charge  myself  with,  of  that  I  under- 
take the  care.  Yet  allow  me  to  doubt  whether  an  intercourse 
with  Catholics  will  at  this  moment  forward  the  purposes  of 
my  mission." 

**  You  have  caught  the  general  suspicion  of  this  wicked 
sect  already,"  said  the  countess,  smiling,  ''  and  are  the  fitter 
to  go  amongst  Englishmen  in  their  present  mood.  But,  my 
cautious  friend,  these  letters  are  so  addressed,  and  the  per^ 
sons  to  whom  they  are  addressed  so  disguised,  that  you  will 
run  no  danger  in  conversing  with  them.  Without  their  aid, 
indeed,  you  will  not  be  able  to  obtain  the  accurate  informa- 
tion you  go  in  search  of.  None  can  tell  so  exactly  how  the 
wind  sets  as  the  pilot  whose  vessel  is  exposed  to  the  storm, 
^Besides,  though  you  Protestants  deny  our  priesthood  the 
harmlessness  of  the  dove,  you  are  ready  enough  to  allow  us 
a  full  share  of  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent ;  in  plain  terms, 
their  means  of  information  are  extensive,  and  they  are  not 
deficient  in  the  power  of  applying  it.  I  therefore  wish  you 
to  have  the  benefit  of  their  intelligence  and  advice,  if 
possible." 

"  Whatever  you  impose  on  me  as  a  part  of  my  duty, 
madam,  rely  on  its  being  discharged  punctually,"  answered 
Peveril.     **  And  now,  as  there  is  little  use  in  deferring  tha 

211 


1512  WAVSRLEY  NOVELIS 

execution  of  a  purpose  when  once  fixed,  let  me  know  your 
ladyship's  wishes  concerning  my  departure." 

*'  It  must  be  sudden  and  secret,"  said  the  countess  ;  ''  the 
island  is  full  of  spies  ;  and  I  would  not  wish  that  any  of 
them  should  have  notice  that  an  envoy  of  mine  was  about  to 
leave  Man  for  London.  Can  you  be  ready  to  go  on  board 
to-morrow  ?  " 

^'  To-night — this  instant  if  you  will,"  said  Julian  ;  '^  my 
little  preparations  are  complete." 

^'  Be  ready,  then,  in  your  chamber,  at  two  hours  after 
midnight.  I  will  send  one  to  summon  you,  for  our  secret 
must  be  communicated,  for  the  present,  to  as  few  as  possible. 
A  foreign  sloop  is  engaged  to  carry  you  over  ;  then  make 
the  best  of  your  way  to  London,  by  Martindale  Castle  or 
otherwise,  as  you  find  most  advisable.  When  it  is  necessary 
to  announce  your  absence,  I  will  say  you  are  gone  to  see 
your  parents.  But  stay — your  journey  will  be  on  horseback, 
of  course,  from  Whitehaven.  You  have  bills  of  exchange, 
it  is  true  ;  but  are  you  provided  with  ready  money  to  furnish 
yourself  with  a  good  horse  ?  " 

"I  am  sufficiently  rich,  madam,"  answered  Julian  ;  ''and 
good  nags  are  plenty  in  Cumberland.  There  are  those 
among  them  who  know  how  to  come  by  them  good  and 
cheap." 

''  Trust  not  to  that,"  said  the  countess.  "  Here  is  what 
will  purchase  for  you  the  best  horse  on  the  Borders.  Can 
you  be  simple  enough  to  refuse  it  ? "  she  added,  as  she 
pressed  on  him  a  heavy  purse,  which  he  saw  himself  obliged 
to  accept. 

"A  good  horse,  Julian,"  continued  the  countess,  "  and  a 
good  sword,  next  to  a  good  heart  and  head,  are  the  accom- 
plishments of  a  cavalier." 

"  I  kiss  your  hands,  then,  madam,"  said  Peveril,  ''  and 
humbly  beg  you  to  believe  that,  whatever  may  fail  in  my 
present  undertaking,  my  purpose  to  serve  you,  my  noble 
kinswoman  and  benefactress,  can  at  least  never  swerve  or 
falter." 

*'  I  know  it,  my  son — I  know  it ;  and  may  God  forgive  me 
if  my  anxiety  for  your  friend  has  sent  you  on  dangers  which 
should  have  been  his  !  Go — go.  May  saints  and  angels 
bless  you  !  Fenella  shall  acquaint  him  that  you  sup  in  your 
own  apartment.  So  indeed  will  I ;  for  to-night  I  sliould  be 
unable  to  face  my  son^s  looks.  Little  will  he  thank  me  for 
sending  you  on  his  errand  ;  and  there  will  be  many  to  ask 
whether  it  was  like  the  Lady  of  Latham  to  thrust   her 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  213 

friend's  son  on  the  danger  which  should  have  been  braved 
by  her  own.  But  0  !  Julian,  I  am  now  a  forlorn  widow, 
whom  sorrow  has  made  selfish  ! " 

*'  Tush,  madam,''  answered  Peveril ;  "it  is  more  unlike 
the  Lady  of  Latham  to  anticipate  dangers  which  may  not 
exist  at  all,  and  to  which,  if  they  do  indeed  occur,  I  am  less 
obnoxious  than  my  noble  kinsman.  Farewell !  All  bless- 
ings attend  you,  madam.  Commend  me  to  Derby,  and 
make  him  my  excuses.  I  shall  expect  a  summons  at  two 
hours  after  midnight." 

They  took  an  affectionate  leave  of  each  other ;  the  more 
affectionate,  indeed,  on  the  part  of  the  countess,  that  she 
could  not  entirely  reconcile  her  generous  mind  to  exposing 
Peveril  to  danger  on  her  son's  behalf ;  and  Julian  betook 
himself  to  his  solitary  apartment. 

His  servant  soon  afterwards  brought  him  wine  and  refresh- 
ments ;  to  which,  notwithstanding  the  various  matters  he 
had  to  occupy  his  mind,  he  contrived  to  do  reasonable  justice. 
But  when  this  needful  occupation  was  finished,  his  thoughts 
began  to  stream  in  upon  him  like  a  troubled  tide — at  once 
recalling  the  past  and  anticipating  the  future.  It  was  in 
vain  that  he  wrapped  himself  in  his  riding-cloak,  and  lying 
down  on  his  bed,  endeavored  to  compose  himself  to  sleep. 
The  uncertainty  of  the  prospect  before  him,  the  doubt  how 
Bridgenorth  might  dispose  of  his  daughter  during  his 
absence,  the  fear  that  the  major  himself  might  fall  into  the 
power  of  the  vindictive  countess,  besides  a  numerous  train 
of  vague  and  half-formed  apprehensions,  agitated  his  blood, 
and  rendered  slumber  impossible.  Alternately  to  recline  in 
the  old  oaken  easy-chair  and  listen  to  the  dashing  of  the 
waves  under  the  windows,  mingled,  as  the  sound  was,  with 
the  scream  of  the  sea-birds,  or  to  traverse  the  apartment 
with  long  and  slow  steps,  pausing  occasionally  to  look  out 
on  the  sea,  slumbering  under  the  influence  of  a  full  moon, 
which  tipped  each  wave  with  silver — such  were  the  only 
pastimes  he  could  invent,  until  midnight  had  passed  for  one 
hour :  the  next  was  wasted  in  anxious  expectation  of  the 
summons  of  departure. 

At  length  it  arrived  :  a  tap  at  his  door  was  followed  by  a 
low  murmur,  which  made  him  suspect  that  the  countess  had 
again  employed  her  mute  attendant  as  the  most  secure 
minister  of  her  pleasure  on  this  occasion.  He  felt  some- 
thing like  impropriety  in  this  selection  ;  and  it  was  with  a 
feeling  of  impatience  alien  to  the  natural  generosity  of  his 
temper  that,  when  he  opened  the  door,  he  beheld  the  dumb 


214  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

maiden  standing  before  him.  The  lamp  which  he  held  in 
his  hand  showed  his  features  distinctly,  and  probably  made 
Fenella  aware  of  the  expression  which  animated  them.  She 
cast  her  large  dark  eyes  mournfully  on  the  ground ;  and, 
without  again  looking  him  in  the  face,  made  him  a  signal 
to  follow  her.  He  delayed  no  longer  than  was  necessary  to 
secure  his  pistols  in  his  belt,  wrap  his  cloak  closer  around 
him,  and  take  his  small  portmanteau  under  his  arm.  Thus 
accoutred,  he  followed  her  out  of  the  keep,  or  inhabited 
part  of  the  castle,  by  a  series  of  obscure  passages  leading  to 
a  postern  gate,  which  she  unlocked  with  a  key,  selected 
from  a  bundle  which  she  carried  at  her  girdle. 

They  now  stood  in  the  castle-yard,  in  the  open  moonlight, 
which  glimmered  white  and  ghastly  on  the  variety  of  strange 
and  ruinous  objects  to  which  we  have  formerly  alluded,  and 
which  gave  the  scene  rather  the  appearance  of  some  ancient 
cemetery  than  of  the  interior  of  a  fortification.  The  round 
and  elevated  tower,  the  ancient  mount,  with  its  quadrangular 
sides  facing  the  ruinous  edifices  which  once  boasted  the 
name  of  cafchederal,  seemed  of  yet  more  antique  and  an- 
omalous form  when  seen  by  the  pale  light  which  ncTw  dis- 
played them.  To  one  of  these  churches  Fenella  took  the 
direct  course,  and  was  followed  by  Julian  ;  although  he  at 
once  divined,  and  was  superstitious  enough  to  dislike,  the 
path  which  she  was  about  to  adopt.  It  was  by  a  secret 
passage  through  this  church  that  in  former  times  the  guard- 
room of  the  garrison,  situated  at  the  lower  and  external  de- 
fenses, communicated  with  the  keep  of  the  castle ;  and 
through  this  passage  were  the  keys  of  the  castle  every  night 
carried  to  the  governor's  apartment,  so  soon  as  the  gates 
were  locked  and  the  watch  set.  The  custom  was  given  up 
in  James  the  First's  time,  and  the  passage  abandoned,  on 
account  of  the  well-known  legend  of  the  Mauthe  Dog — a 
fiend,  or  demon,  in  the  shape  of  a  large,  shaggy,  black 
mastiff,  by  which  the  church  was  said  to  be  haunted.  It 
was  devoutly  believed  that  in  former  times  this  specter  be- 
came so  familiar  with  mankind  as  to  appear  almost  nightly 
in  the  guard-room,  issuing  from  the  passage  which  we  have 
mentioned  at  night,  and  retiring  to  it  at  daybreak.  The 
soldiers  became  partly  familiarized  to  its  presence  ;  yet  not 
so  much  so  as  to  use  any  license  of  language  while  the  ap- 
parition was  visible ;  until  one  fellow,  rendered  daring  by 
intoxication,  swore  he  would  know  whether  it  was  dog  or 
devil,  and,  with  his  drawn  sword,  followed  the  specter  when 
it  retreated  by  the  usual  passage.    The  man  returned  in  a 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  215 

few  minutes,  sobered  by  terror,  his  mouth  gaping,  and  his 
hair  standing  on  end,  under  which  horror  he  died  ;  but  un- 
happily for  the  lovers  of  the  marvelous,  altogether  unable 
to  disclose  the  horrors  which  he  had  seen.  Under  the  evil 
repute  arising  from  this  tale  of  wonder,  the  guard-room  was 
abandoned  and  a  new  one  constructed.  In  like  manner,  the 
guards  after  that  period  held  another  and  more  circuitous 
communication  with  the  governor  or  seneschal  of  the  castle  ; 
and  that  which  lay  through  the  ruinous  church  was  entirely 
abandoned.* 

In  defiance  of  the  legendary  terrors  which  tradition  had 
attached  to  the  original  communication,  Fenella,  followed 
by  Peveril,  now  boldly  traversed  the  ruinous  vaults  through 
which  it  lay  ;  sometimes  only  guided  over  heaps  of  ruins  by 
the  precarious  light  of  the  lamp  borne  by  the  dumb  maiden  ; 
sometimes  having  the  advantage  of  a  gleam  of  moonlight, 
darting  into  the  dreary  abyss  through  the  shafted  windows, 
or  through  breaches  made  by  time.  As  the  path  was  by  no 
means  a  straight  one,  Peveril  could  not  but  admire  the  inti- 
mate acquaintance  with  the  mazes  which  his  singular  com- 
panion displayed,  as  well  as  the  boldness  with  which  she 
traversed  them.  He  himself  was  not  so  utterly  void  of  the 
prejudices  of  the  times,  but  that  he  contemplated,  with  some 
apprehension,  the  possibility  of  their  intruding  on  the  lair  of 
the  phantom-hound,  of  which  he  had  heard  so  often  ;  and  in 
every  remote  sigh  of  the  breeze  among  the  ruins  he  thought 
he  heard  him  baying  at  the  mortal  footsteps  which  disturbed 
his  gloomy  realm.  No  such  terrors,  however,  interrupted 
their  journey  ;  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  minutes  they  at- 
tained the  deserted  and  now  ruinous  guard-house.  The 
broken  walls  of  the  little  edifice  served  to  conceal  them  from 
the  sentinels,  one  of  whom  was  keeping  a  drowsy  watch  at 
the  lower  gate  of  the  castle  ;  whilst  another,  seated  on  the 
stone  steps  which  communicated  with  the  parapet  of  the 
bounding  and  exterior  wall,  was  slumbering,  in  full  security, 
with  his  musket  peacefully  grounded  by  his  side.  Fenella 
made  a  sign  to  Peveril  to  move  with  silence  and  caution,  and 
then  showed  him,  to  his  surprise,  from  the  window  of  the 
deserted  guard-room,  a  boat,  for  it  was  now  high  water,  with 
four  rowers,  lurking  under  the  cliff  on  which  the  castle  was 
built ;  and  made  him  farther  sensible  that  he  was  to  have 

*  This  curious  legend,  and  many  others,  in  which  the  Isle  of 
Man  is  perhaps  richer  than  even  Ireland,  Wales,  or  the  Highlands 
of  Scotland,  will  be  found  in  Note  12  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


aid  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

access  to  it  by  a  ladder  of  considerable  height  placed  at  the 
window  of  the  ruin. 

Julian  was  both  displeased  and  alarmed  by  the  security 
and  carelessness  of  the  sentinels^  who  had  suffered  such  prep- 
arations to  be  made  without  observation  or  alarm  given  ;  and 
he  hesitated  whether  he  should  not  call  the  officer  of  the 
guard,  upbraid  him  with  negligence,  and  show  him  how  easily 
Holm-Peel,  in  spite  of  its  natural  strength,  and  although  re- 
ported impregnable,  might  be  surprised  by  a  few  resolute 
men.  Fenella  seemed  to  guess  his  thoughts  with  that  extreme 
acuteness  of  observation  which  her  deprivations  had  occa- 
sioned her  acquiring.  She  laid  one  hand  on  his  arm,  and  a 
finger  of  the  other  on  her  own  lips,  as  if  to  enjoin  forbear- 
ance ;  and  Julian,  knowing  that  she  acted  by  the  direct  au- 
thority of  the  countess,  obeyed  her  accordingly  ;  but  with 
the  internal  resolution  to  lose  no  time  in  communicating  his 
sentiments  to  the  earl,  concerning  the  danger  to  which  the 
castle  was  exposed  on  this  point. 

In  the  mean  time,  he  descended  the  ladder  with  some  pre- 
caution, for  the  steps  were  unequal,  broken,  wet,  and  slip- 
pery ;  and  having  placed  himself  in  the  stern  of  the  boat, 
made  a  signal  to  the  men  to  push  off,  and  turned  to  take  fare- 
well of  his  guide.  To  his  utter  astonishment,  Fenella  rather 
slid  down  than  descended  regularly  the  perilous  ladder,  and 
the  boat  being  already  pushed  off,  made  a  spring  from  the 
last  step  of  it  with  incredible  agility,  and  seated  herself  be- 
side Peveril,  ere  he  could  express  either  remonstrance  or  sur- 
prise. He  commanded  the  men  once  more  to  pull  in  to  the 
precarious  landing-place  ;  and  throwing  into  his  countenance 
a  part  of  the  displeasure  which  he  really  felt,  endeavored  to 
make  her  comprehend  the  necessity  of  returning  to  her  mis- 
tress. Fenella  folded  her  arms  and  looked  at  him  with  a 
haughty  smile,  which  completely  expressed  the  determina- 
tion of  her  purpose.  Peveril  was  extremely  embarrassed  ;  he 
was  afraid  of  offending  the  countess,  and  interfering  with 
her  plan,  by  giving  alarm,  which  otherwise  he  was  much 
tempted  to  have  done.  On  Fenella,  it  was  evident,  no  species 
of  argument  which  he  could  employ  was  likely  to  make  the 
least  impression ;  and  the  question  remained  how,  if  she 
went  on  with  him,  he  was  to  rid  himself  of  so  singular  and 
inconvenient  a  companion,  and  provide,  at  the  same  time, 
sufficiently  for  her  personal  security. 

The  boatmen  brought  the  matter  to  a  decision  ;  for,  after 
lying  on  their  oars  for  a  minute  and  whispering  among  them- 
selves in  Low  Dutch  or  German,  they  began  to  pull  stoutly, 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  ^^? 

and  were  soon  at  some  distance  from  the  castle.  The  possi- 
bility of  the  sentinels  sending  a  musket-ball,  or  even  a  can- 
nonshot,  after  them  was  one  of  the  contingencies  which  gave 
Peveril  momentary  anxiety  ;  but  they  left  the  fortress  as  they 
must  have  approached  it,  unnoticed,  or  at  least  unchallenged 
— a  carelessness  on  the  part  of  the  garrison  which,  notwith- 
standing that  the  oars  were  muffled  and  that  the  men  spoke 
little,  and  in  whispers,  argued,  in  PeveriFs  opinion,  great 
negligence  on  the  part  of  the  sentinels.  When  they  were  a 
little  way  from  the  castle,  the  men  began  to  row  briskly  to- 
wards a  small  vessel  which  lay  at  some  distance.  Peveril  had 
in  the  mean  time,  leisure  to  remark  that  the  boatmen  spoke 
to  each  other  doubtfully,  and  bent  anxious  looks  on  Eenella, 
as  if  uncertain  whether  they  had  acted  properly  in  bringing 
her  off. 

After  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour^s  rowing,  they  reached 
the  little  sloop,  where  Peveril  was  received  by  the  skipper, 
or  captain,  on  the  quarter-deck,  with  an  offer  of  spirits  or 
refreshments.  A  word  or  two  among  the  seamen  withdrew 
the  captain  from  his  hospitable  cares,  and  he  flew  to  the 
ship's  side,  apparently  to  prevent  Fenella  from  entering  the 
vessel.  The  men  and  he  talked  eagerly  in  Dutch,  looking 
anxiously  at  Fenella  as  they  spoke  together  ;  and  Peveril 
hoped  the  result  would  be  that  the  poor  young  woman  should 
be  sent  ashore  again.  But  she  baffled  whatever  opposition 
could  be  offered  to  her  ;  and  when  the  accommodation-ladder, 
as  it  is  called,  was'  withdrawn,  she  snatched  the  end  of  a  rope, 
and  climbed  on  board  with  the  dexterity  of  a  sailor,  leaving 
them  no  means  of  preventing  her  entrance,  save  by  actual 
violence,  to  which  apparently  they  did  not  choose  to  have 
recourse.  Once  on  deck,  she  took  the  captain  by  the  sleeve, 
and  led  him  to  the  head  of  the  vessel,  where  they  seemed  to 
hold  intercourse  in  a  manner  intelligible  to  both. 

Peveril  soon  forgot  the  presence  of  the  mute,  as  he  began 
to  muse  upon  his  own  situation,  and  the  probability  that  he 
was  separated  for  some  considerable  time  from  the  object  of 
his  affections.  *'  Constancy,'^  he  repeated  to  himself — 
'^constancy/'  And,  as  if  in  coincidence  with  the  theme  of 
his  reflections,  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  polar  star,  which  that 
night  twinkled  with  more  than  ordinary  brilliancy.  Em- 
blem of  pure  passion  and  steady  purpose — the  thoughts 
which  arose  as  he  viewed  its  clear  and  unchanging  light  were 
disinterested  and  noble.  To  seek  his  country's  welfare,  and 
secure  the  blessings  of  domestic  peace  ;  to  discharge  a  bold 
and  perilous  duty  to  his  friend  and  patron;  to  regard  his 


2i8  WAVTJBLKT  NOVELS 

passion  for  Alice  Bridgenorth  as  the  loadstar  which  was  to 
guide  him  to  noble  deeds — were  the  resolutions  which 
thronged  upon  his  mind,  and  which  exalted  his  spirits  to 
that  state  of  romantic  melancholy  which  perhaps  is  ill  ex- 
changed even  for  feelings  of  joyful  rapture. 

He  was  recalled  from  these  contemplations  bv  something 
which  nestled  itself  softly  and  closely  to  his  side — a  woman's 
sigh  sounded  so  near  him  as  to  disturb  his  reverie  ;  and  as 
he  turned  his  head,  he  saw  Fenella  seated  beside  him,  with 
her  eyes  fixed  on  the  same  star  which  had  just  occupied  his 
own.  His  first  emotion  was  that  of  displeasure  ;  but  it  was 
impossible  to  persevere  in  it  towards  a  being  so  helpless  in 
many  respects,  so  interesting  in  others  ;  whose  large  dark 
eyes  were  filled  with  dew,  which  glistened  in  the  moonlight ; 
and  the  source  of  whose  emotions  seemed  to  be  in  a  partial- 
ity which  might  well  claim  indulgence,  at  least,  from  him 
who  was  the  object  of  it.  At  the  same  time,  Julian  resolved 
to  seize  the  present  opportunity  for  such  expostulations  with 
Fenella  on  the  strangenessof  her  conduct  as  the  poor  maiden 
might  be  able  to  comprehend.  He  took  her  hand  with  great 
kindness,  but  at  the  same  time  with  much  gravity,  pointed 
to  the  boat,  and  to  the  castle,  whose  towers  and  extended 
walls  were  now  scarce  visible  in  the  distance  ;  and  thus  in- 
timated to  her  the  necessity  of  her  return  to  Holm-Peel. 
She  looked  down  and  shook  her  head,  as  if  negativing  his 
proposal  with  obstinate  decision.  Julian  renewed  his  ex- 
postulation by  look  and  gesture — pointed  to  his  own  heart, 
to  intimate  the  countess,  and  bent  his  brows,  to  show  the 
displeasure  which  she  must  entertain  ;  to  all  which,  the  mute 
only  answered  by  her  tears. 

At  length,  as  if  driven  to  explanation  by  his  continued  re- 
monstrances, she  suddenly  seized  him  by  the  arm,  to  arrest 
his  attention ;  cast  her  eye  hastily  around,  as  if  to  see 
whether  she  was  watched  by  any  one  ;  then  drew  the  other 
hand,  edge-wise,  across  her  slender  throat,  pointed  to  the  boat 
and  to  the  castle,  and  nodded. 

On  this  series  of  signs,  Peveril  could  put  no  interpreta- 
tion excepting  that  he  was  menaced  with  some  personal 
danger,  from  which  Fenella  seemed  to  conceive  that  her 
presence  was  a  protection.  Whatever  was  her  meaning,  her 
purpose  seemed  unalterably  adopted  ;  at  least,  it  was  plain  he 
nad  no  power  to  shake  it.  He  must  therefore  wait  till  the 
end  of  their  short  voyage  to  disembarrass  himself  of  his  com- 

E anion  ;  and,  in  the  meanwhile,   acting  on  the  idea  of  her 
aving  harbored  a  misplaced  attachment  to  him,  he  thought 


PBVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  210 

he  should  best  consult  her  interest  and  his  own  character  in 
keeping  at  as  great  a  distance  from  her  as  circumstances 
admitted.  With  this  purpose,  he  made  the  sign  she  used 
for  going  to  sleep,  by  leaning  his  head  on  his  palm  ;  and 
having  thus  recommended  to  her  to  go  to  rest,  he  himself 
desired  to  be  conducted  to  his  berth. 

The  captain  readily  showed  him  a  hammock  in  the  after- 
cabin,  into  which  he  threw  himself,  to  seek  that  repose  which 
the  exercise  and  agitation  of  the  preceding  day,  as  well  as 
the  lateness  of  the  hour,  made  him  now  feel  desirable.  Sleep, 
deep  and  heavy,  sunk  down  on  him  in  a  few  minutes,  but 
it  did  not  endure  long.  In  his  sleep  he  was  disturbed  by 
female  cries  ;  and  at  length,  as  he  thought,  distinctly  heard 
the  voice  of  Alice  Bridgenorth  call  on  his  name. 

He  awoke,  and,  starting  up  to  quit  his  bed,  became  sensi- 
ble, from  the  motion  of  the  vessel  and  the  swinging  of  the 
hammock,  that  his  dream  had  deceived  him.  He  was  still 
startled  by  its  extreme  vivacity  and  liveliness.  *' Julian 
Peveril,  help  ! — Julian  Peveril ! "  The  sounds  still  rung  in 
his  ears  ;  the  accents  were  those  of  Alice,  and  he  could 
scarce  persuade  himself  that  his  imagination  had  deceived 
him.  Could  she  be  in  the  same  vessel  ?  The  thought  was 
not  altogether  inconsistent  with  her  father's  character  and 
the  intrigues  in  which  he  was  engaged  ;  but  then,  if  so,  to 
what  peril  was  she  exposed,  that  she  invoked  his  name  so 
loudly  ? 

Determined  to  make  instant  inquiry,  he  jumped  out  of 
his  hammock,  half-dressed  as  he  was,  and  stumbling  about 
the  little  cabin,  which  was  as  dark  as  pitch,  at  length,  with 
considerable  difficulty,  reached  the  door.  The  door,  how- 
ever, he  was  altogether  unable  to  open  ;  and  was  obliged  to 
call  loudly  to  the  watch  upon  deck.  The  skipper,  or  cap- 
tain, as  he  was  called,  being  the  only  person  aboard  who 
could  speak  English,  answered  to  the  summons,  and  replied 
to  Peveril's  demand,  what  noise  that  was  ? — that  a  boat  was 
going  off  with  the  young  woman,  that  she  whimpered  a 
little  as  she  left  the  vessel,  and  ^'  dat  was  all.'' 

This  explanation  satisfied  Julian,  who  thought  it  probable 
that  some  degree  of  violence  might  have  been  absolutely 
necessary  to  remove  Fenella  ;  and  although  he  rejoiced  at 
not  having  witnessed  it,  he  could  not  feel  sorry  that  such 
iiad  been  employed.  Her  pertinacious  desire  to  continue 
on  board,  and  the  difficulty  of  freeing  himself,  when  he 
should  come  ashore,  from  so  singular  a  companion,  had 
given  him  a  good  deal  of  anxiety  on  the  preceding  night, 


220  WaV^^LEY  noVELS 

which  he  now  saw  removed  by  this  bold  stroke  of  the  cap- 
tain. 

His  dream  was  thus  fully  explained.  Fancy  had  caught 
up  the  inarticulate  and  vehement  cries  with  which  Fenella 
was  wont  to  express  resistance  or  displeasure,  had  coined 
them  into  language,  and  given  them  the  accents  of  Alice 
Bridgenorth.  Our  imagination  plays  wilder  tricks  with  us 
almost  every  night. 

The  captain  now  undid  the  door,  and  appeared  with  a 
lantern  ;  without  the  aid  of  which  Peveril  could  scarce  have 
regained  his  couch,  where  he  now  slumbered  secure  and 
sound,  until  day  was  far  advanced,  and  the  invitation  of  the 
captain  called  him  up  to  breakfast. 


{'Hiij 


ryixiJii  10  l&^b  foooi^  k\  ai- 


;^.s; 


CHAPTER  XX 

Now,  what  is  this  that  haunts  me  like  uiy  shadow, 
Frisking  and  mumming,  like  an  elf  in  moonlight  ? 

Ben  Jonson. 

Peveril  found  the  master  of  the  vessel  rather  less  rude  than 
those  in  his  station  of  life  usually  are,  and  received  from 
him  full  satisfaction  concerning  the  fate  of  Psnella,  upon 
whom  the  captain  bestowed  a  hearty  curse,  for  obliging  him 
to  lay-to  until  he  had  sent  his  boat  ashore  and  had  her  hack 
again. 

*^  I  hope,"  said  Peveril,  *^no  violence  was  necessary  to 
reconcile  her  to  go  ashore  ?  I  trust  she  offered  no  foolish 
resistance  ?  " 

"  Resist !  mein  Gott !  *'  said  the  captain,  "  she  did  resist 
like  a  troop  of  horse  ;  she  did  cry,  you  might  hear  her  at 
Whitehaven  ;  she  did  go  up  the  rigging  like  a  cat  up  a  chim- 
ney— but  dat  vas  ein  trick  of  her  old  trade." 

**  What  trade  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  Peveril. 

*'  0,"  said  the  seaman,  "  I  vas  know  more  about  her  than 
you,  Mynherr.  I  vas  know  that  she  vas  a  little— very  little 
girl,  and  prentice  to  one  seiltanzer,  when  my  lady  yonder  had 
the  good  luck  to  buy  her." 

'^  A  seiltanzer  !"  said  Peveril ;  **  what  do  you  mean  by 
that?" 

''  I  mean  a  rope-danzer,  a  mountebank,  a  Hans  Pickel- 
haring.  I  vas  know  Adrian  Brackel  veil ;  he  sell  de  pow- 
ders dat  empty  men's  stomach  and  fill  him's  own  purse.  Not 
know  Adrian  Brackel,  mein  Gott  I  I  have  smoked  many  a 
pound  of  tabak  with  him." 

Peveril  now  remembered  that  Fenella  had  been  brought 
into  the  family  when  he  and  the  young  earl  were  in  England, 
and  while  the  countess  was  absent  on  an  expedition  to  the 
Continent.  Where  the  countess  found  her,  she  never  com- 
municated to  the  young  men  ;  but  only  intimated  that  she 
had  received  her  out  of  compassion,  in  order  to  relieve  her 
from  a  situation  of  extreme  distress. 

He  hinted  so  much  to  the  communicative  seaman,  who 
replied,  '^  That  for  distress  he  knewnocht's  on't ;  only,  that 

221 


222  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

Adrian  Brackel  beat  her  when  she  would  not  dance  on  the 
rope,  and  starved  her  when  she  did,  to  prevent  her  growth/' 
The  bargain  between  the  countess  and  the  mountebank,  he 
said,  he  had  made  himself  ;  because  the  countess  had  hired 
his  brig  upon  her  expedition  to  the  Continent.  None  else 
knew  where  she  came  from.  The  countess  had  seen  her  on 
a  public  stage  at  Ostend,  compassionated  her  helpless  situa- 
tion and  the  severe  treatment  she  received,  and  had  em- 
ployed him  to  purchase  the  poor  creature  from  her  master, 
and  charged  him  with  silence  towards  all  her  retinue.* 
•^  And  so  I  do  keep  silence,^'  continued  the  faithful  confi- 
dant, ''  van  I  am  the  havens  of  Man  ;  but  when  I  am  on  the 
broad  seas,  den  my  tongue  is  mine  own,  you  know.  Die  fool- 
ish peoples  in  the  island,  they  say  she  is  a  wcchsellalg — what 
you  call  a  fairy-elf  changeling.  My  faith,  they  do  not  never 
have  seen  ein  wechselhalg  ;  for  I  saw  one  myself  at  Cologne, 
and  it  was  twice  as  big  as  yonder  girl,  and  did  break  the  poor 
people,  with  eating  them  up,  like  de  great  big  cuckoo  in 
the  sparrow's  nest ;  but  this  Venella  eat  no  more  than  other 
girls  :    it  was  no  wechselbalg  in  the  world." 

By  a  different  train  of  reasoning,  Julian  had  arrived  at  the 
same  conclusion  ;  in  which,  therefore,  he  heartily  acquiesced. 
During  the  seaman's  prosing  he  was  reflecting  within  him- 
self how  much  of  the  singular  flexibility  of  her  limbs  and 
movements  the  unfortunate  girl  must  have  derived  from  the 
discipline  and  instructions  of  Adrian  Brackel ;  and  also  how 
far  the  germs  of  her  wilful  and  capricious  passions  might 
have  been  sown  during  her  wandering  and  adventurous 
childhood.  Aristocratic,  also,  as  his  education  had  been, 
these  anecdotes  respecting  Fenella's  original  situation  and 
education  rather  increased  his  pleasure  at  having  shaken  off 
her  company  ;  and  yet  he  still  felt  desirous  to  know  any  far- 
ther particulars  which  the  seaman  could  communicate  on  the 
subject.     But  he  had  already  told   all  he  knew.     Of   her 

Sarents  he  knew  nothing,    except  that  '*  her  father   must 
ave  been  a  damned  tiundsfoot  and  a  schelm,  for  selling  his 
own  flesh  and  blood  to  Adrian  Brackel  '*' ;  for  by  such  a  tran-  J 
Baction  had  the  mountebank  become  possessed  of  his  pupil,  f 

This  conversation  tended  to  remove  any  passing  doubts 
which  might  have  crept  on  PeveriFs  mind  concerning  the 
fidelity  of  the  master  of  the  vessel,  who  appeared  from 
thence  to  have  been  a  former  acquaintance  of  the  countess, 
and  to  have  enjoyed  some  share  of  her  confidence.  The 
threatening  motion  used  by  Fenella  he  no  longer  considered 
*  See  Sale  of  a  Dancing  GirL    Note  IC. 


^i 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  22& 

as  worthy  of  any  notice,  excepting  as  a  new  mark  of  the 
irritability  of  her  temper. 

He  amused  himself  with  walking  the  deck  and  musing  on 
his  past  and  future  j.h)ospects,  until  his  attention  was  forcibly 
arrested  by  the  wind,  which  began  to  rise  in  gusts  from  the 
northwest,  in  a  manner  so  unfavorable  to  the  course  they 
intended  to  hold,  that  the  master,  after  many  efforts  to  beat 
against  it,  declared  his  bark,  which  was  by  no  means  an  ex- 
cellent sea-boat,  was  unequal  to  making  Whitehaven  ;  and 
that  he  was  compelled  to  make  a  fair  wind  of  it,  and  run  for 
Liverpool.  To  this  course  Peveril  did  not  object.  It  saved 
him  some  land  journey,  in  case  he  visited  his  father^s  castle  ; 
and  the  countess's  commission  would  be  discharged  as  ef- 
fectually the  one  way  as  the  other. 

The  vessel  was  put,  accordingly,  before  the  wind,  and  ran 
with  great  steadiness  and  velocity.  The  captain,  notwith- 
standing, pleading  some  nautical  hazards,  chose  to  lie  off, 
and  did  not  attempt  the  mouth  of  the  Mersey  until  morning, 
when  Peveril  had  at  length  the  satisfaction  of  being  landed 
upon  the  quay  of  Liverpool,  which  even  then  showed  symp- 
toms of  the  commercial  prosperity  that  has  since  been  carried 
to  such  a  height. 

The  master,  who  was  well  acquainted  with  the  port,  pointed 
out  to  Julian  a  decent  place  of  entertainment,  chiefly  fre- 
quented by  seafaring  people ;  for,  although  he  had  been  in 
the  town  formerly,  he  did  not  think  it  proper  to  go  anywhere 
at  present  where  he  might  have  been  unnecessarily  recog- 
nized. Here  he  took  leave  of  the  seaman,  after  pressing 
upon  him  with  difficulty  a  small  present  for  his  crew.  As 
for  his  passage  the  captain  declined  any  recompense  what- 
ever ;  and  they  parted  upon  the  most  civil  terms. 

The  inn  to  which  he  was  recommended  was  full  of 
strangers,  seamen  and  mercantile  people,  all  intent  upon 
their  own  affairs,  and  discussing  them  with  noise  and  eager- 
ness peculiar  to  the  business  of  a  thriving  seaport.  But 
although  the  general  clamor  of  the  public  room,  in  which 
the  guests  mixed  with  each  other,  related  chiefly  to  their 
own  commercial  dealings,  there  was  a  general  theme  min- 
gling with  them,  which  was  alike  common  and  interesting  to 
all ;  so  that,  amidst  disputes  about  freight,  tonnage,  demur- 
rage, and  such-like,  were  heard  the  emphatic  sounds  of 
*'  Deep,  damnable,  accursed  plot/'  '*  Bloody  Papist  vil- 
lains.'' '^  The  King  in  danger — the  gallows  too  good  for 
them,"  and  so  forth. 

The  fermentation  excited  in  London,  ,ha4  plainly  reached 


224  WAVBRLBY  NOVELS 

even  this  remote  seaport,  and  was  received  by  the  inhabitants 
with  the  peculiar  stormy  energy  which  invests  men  in  their 
situation  with  the  character  of  the  winds  and  waves  with 
which  they  are  chiefly  conversant.  ^^Jhe  commercial  and 
nautical  interests  of  England  were  indeed  particularly  anti- 
Gatholic  ;  although  it  is  not,  perhaps,  easy  to  give  any  dis- 
tinct reason  why  they  should  be  so,  since  theological  disputes 
in  general  could  scarce  be  considered  as  interesting  to  them. 
But  zeal,  amongst  the  lower  orders  at  least,  is  often  in  an 
inverse  ratio  to  knowledge  ;  and  sailors  were  not  probably 
the  less  earnest  and  devoted  Protestants  that  they  did  not 
understand  the  controversy  between  the  churches.  As  for 
the  merchants,  they  were  almost  necessarily  inimical  to  the 
gentry  of  Lancashire  and  Cheshire,  many  of  whom  still 
retained  the  faith  of  Eome,  which  was  rendered  ten  times 
more  odious  to  the  men  of  commerce,  as  the  badge  of  their 
haughty  aristocratic  neighbors. 

From  the  little  which  Peveril  heard  of  the  sentiments  of 
the  people  of  Liverpool,  he  imagined  he  should  act  most 
prudently  in  leaving  the  place  as  soon  as  possible,  and  before 
any  suspicion  should  arise  of  his  having  any  connection  with 
the  party  which  appeared  to  have  become  so  obnoxious. 

In  order  to  accomplish  his  journey,  it  was  first  necessary 
that  he  should  purchase  a  horse  ;  and  for  this  purpose  he  re- 
solved to  have  recourse  to  the  stables  of  a  dealer  well  known 
at  the  time,  and  who  dwelt  in  the  outskirts  of  the  place ; 
and  having  obtained  directions  to  his  dwelling,  he  went 
thither  to  provide  himself. 

Joe  Bridlesley's  stables  exhibited  a  large  choice  of  good 
horses  ;  for  that  trade  was  in  former  days  more  active  than 
at  present.  It  was  an  ordinary  thing  for  a  stranger  to  buy 
a  horse  for  the  purpose  of  a  single  journey,  and  to  sell  him, 
as  well  as  he  could,  when  he  had  reached  the  point  of  his 
destination  ;  and  hence  there  was  a  constant  demand,  and 
a  corresponding  supply  ;  upon  both  of  which  Bridlesley,  and 
those  of  his  trade,  contrived,  doubtless,  to  make  handsome* 
profits. 

Julian,  who  was  no  despicable  horse-jockey,  selected  for 
his  purpose  a  strong,  well-made  horse,  about  sixteen  hands 
high,  and  had  him  led  into  the  yard,  to  see  whether  his 
paces  corresponded  with  his  appearance.  As  these  also  gave 
perfect  satisfaction  to  the  customer,  it  remained  only  to 
settle  the  price  with  Bridlesley,  who  of  course  swore  his 
customer  had  pitched  upon  the  best  horse  ever  darkened  the 
stable-door  since  he  had  dealt  that  way  ;  that  no  such  horses 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  225 

were  to  be  had  nowadays,  for  that  the  mares  were  aead  that 
foaled  them  ;  and  having  named  a  corresponding  price,  the 
usual  haggling  commenced  betwixt  the  seller  and  purchaser 
for  adjustment  of  what  the  French  dealers  call  le  prix  juste. 

The  reader,  if  he  be  at  all  acquainted  with  this  sort  of 
traffic,  well  knows  it  is  generally  a  keen  encounter  of  wits, 
and  attracts  the  notice  of  all  the  idlers  within  hearing,  who 
are  usually  very  ready  to  offer  their  opinions,  or  their  evi- 
dence. Amongst  these,  upon  the  present  occasion,  was  a 
thin  man,  rather  less  than  the  ordinary  size,  and  meanly 
dressed  ;  but  whose  interference  was  in  a  confident  tone, 
and  such  as  showed  himself  master  of  the  subject  on  which 
he  spoke.  The  price  of  the  horse  being  settled  to  about 
fifteen  pounds,  which  was  very  high  for  the  period,  that  of 
the  saddle  and  bridle  had  next  to  be  adjusted,  and  the  thin, 
mean-looking  person  before  mentioned  found  nearly  as  much 
to  say  on  this  subject  as  on  the  other.  As  his  remarks  had 
a  conciliating  and  obliging  tendency  towards  the  stranger, 
Peveril  concluded  he  was  one  of  those  idle  persons  who,  un- 
able or  unwilling  to  supply  themselves  with  the  means  of 
indulgence  at  their  own  cost,  do  not  scruple  to  deserve  them 
at  the  hands  of  others  by  a  little  officious  complaisance  ; 
and  considering  that  he  might  acquire  some  useful  informa- 
tion from  such  a  person,  was  just  about  to  offer  him  the 
courtesy  of  a  morning  draught,  when  he  observed  he  had 
suddenly  left  the  yard.  He  had  scarce  remarked  this  cir- 
cumstance, before  a  party  of  customers  entered  the  place, 
whose  haughty  assumption  of  importance  claimed  the  instant 
attention  of  Bridlesley  and  all  his  militia  of  grooms  and 
stable-boys. 

''  Three  good  horses, '^  said  the  leader  of  the  party,  a  tall 
bulky  man,  whose  breath  was  drawn  full  and  high,  under  a 
consciousness  of  fat  and  of  importance — ^^  three  good  and 
able  bodied  horses,  for  the  service  of  the  Commons  of  Eng- 
land.'' 

Bridlesley  said  he  had  some  horses  which  might  serve  the 
Speaker  himself  at  need  ;  but  that,  to  speak  Christian  truth, 
he  had  just  sold  the  best  in  his  stable  to  that  gentleman 
present,  who,  doubtless,  would  give  up  the  bargain  if  the 
horse  was  needed  for  the  service  of  the  state. 

"  You  speak  well,  friend,''  said  the  important  personage  ; 
and  advancing  to  Julian,  demanded,  in  a  very  haughty  tone, 
the  surrender  of  the  purchase  which  he  had  just  made. 

Peveril,  with  some  difficulty,  subdued  the  strong  desire 
which  he  felt  to  return  a  round  refusal  to  so  unreasonable  a 


220  WA  VEBLEY  NO  VEL S 

request,  but,  fortunately,  recollecting  that  the  situation  in 
which  he  at  present  stood  required,  on  his  part,  much  cir- 
cumspection, he  replied  simply  that,  upon  showing  him  any 
warrant  to  seize  upon  horses  for  the  public  service,  he  must 
of  course  submit  to  resign  his  purchase. 

The  man,  with  an  air  of  extreme  dignity,  pulled  from  his 
pocket,  and  thrust  into  PeveriFs  hands,  a  warrant  subscribed 
by  the  Spealter  of  the  House  of  Commons,  empowering 
Charles  Topham,  their  officer  of  the  Black  Rod,  to  pursue 
and  seize  upon  the  persons  of  certain  individuals  named  in 
his  warrant ;  and  of  all  other  persons  who  are,  or  should  be, 
accused  by  competent  witnesses  of  being  accessary  to,  or 
favorers  of,  the  hellish  and  damnable  Popish  Plot  at  present 
carried  on  within  the  bowels  of  the  kingdom  ;  and  charging 
all  men,  as  they  loved  their  allegiance,  to  render  the  said 
Charles  Topham  their  readiest  and  most  effective  assistance, 
in  execution  of  the  duty  entrusted  to  his  care. 

On  perusing  a  document  of  such  weighty  import,  Julian 
had  no  hesitation  to  give  up  his  horse  to  this  formidable 
functionary,  whom  somebody  compared  to  a  lion,  which,  as 
the  House  of  Commons  was  pleased  to  maintain  such  an  ani- 
mal, they  were  under  the  necessity  of  providing  for  by  fre- 
quent commitments  ;  until  ''  Take  him,  Topham,'^  became 
a  proverb,  and  a  formidable  one,  in  the  mouth  of  the 
public. 

The  acquiescence  of  Peveril  procured  his  some  grace  in 
the  sight  of  the  emissary,  who,  before  selecting  two  horses 
for  his  attendants,  gave  permission  to  the  stranger  to  purchase 
a  gray  horse,  much  inferior  indeed  to  that  which  he  had 
resigned,  both  in  form  and  in  action,  but  very  little  lower 
in  price  ;  as  Mr.  Bridlesley,  immediately  on  learning  the 
demand  for  horses  upon  the  part  of  the  Commons  of  England, 
had  passed  a  private  resolution  in  his  own  mind,  augment- 
ing the  price  of  his  whole  stud  by  an  imposition  of  at  least 
twenty  per  cent  ad  valorem. 

Peveril  adjusted  and  paid  the  price  with  much  less  argu- 
ment than  on  the  former  occasion  ;  for,  to  be  plain  with  the 
reader,  he  had  noticed  in  the  warrant  of  Mr.  Xopham  the 
name  of  his  father.  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  of  Martindale  Castle, 
engrossed  at  full  length,  as  one  of  those  subjected  to  arrest 
by  that  officer. 

When  aware  of  this  material  fact,  it  became  Julian's  busi- 
ness to  leave  Liverpool  directly  and  carry  the  alarm  to  Der- 
byshire, if,  indeed,  Mr.  Topham  had  not  already  executed 
hig  charge  in  that  country,  which  he  thought  unlikely,  as  it 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  221 

was  probable  they  would  commence  by  securing  those  who 
lived  nearest  to  the  seaports.  A  word  or  two  which  he  over- 
heard strengthened  his  hopes. 

"  And  hark  ye,  friend/'  said  Topham,  *'you  will  have  the 
horses  at  the  door  of  Mr.  Shortell,  the  mercer,  in  two  hours, 
as  we  shall  refresh  ourselves  there  with  a  cool  tankard,  and 
learn  what  folks  live  in  the  neighborhood  that  may  be  con- 
cerned in  my  way.  And  you  will  please  to  have  that  saddle 
padded,  for  I  am  told  the  Derbyshire  roads  are  rough.  And 
you,  Captain  Dangerfield,  and  Master  Everett,  you  must  put 
on  your  Protestant  spectacles,  and  show  me  where  there  is 
the  shadow  of  a  priest  or  of  a  priest's  favorer  ;  for  I  am  come 
down  with  a  broom  in  my  cap  to  sweep  this  north  country  of 
such-like  cattle." 

One  of  the  persons  he  thus  addressed,  who  wore  the  garb 
of  a  broken-down  citizen,  only  answered,  '^  Ay,  truly.  Master 
Topham,  it  is  time  to  purge  the  garner.'^ 

The  other,  who  had  a  formidable  pair  of  whiskers,  a  red 
nose,  and  a  tarnished  laced  coat,  together  with  a  hat  of 
Pistol's  dimensions,  was  more  loquacious.  ''I  take  it  on  my 
damnation,"  said  this  zealous  Protestant  witness,  '^  that  I 
will  discover  the  marks  of  the  beast  on  every  one  of  them 
betwixt  sixteen  and  seventy,  as  plainly  as  if  they  had  crossed 
themselves  with  ink  instead  of  holy  water.  Since  we  have  a 
king  willing  to  do  justice,  and  a  House  of  Commons  to  up- 
hold prosecutions,  why,  damn  me,  the  cause  must  not  stand 
still  for  lack  of  evidence." 

"  Stick  to  that,  noble  captain,"  answered  the  officer  ;  ''  but, 
prithee,  reserve  thy  oaths  for  the  court  of  justice  ;  it  is  but 
sheer  waste  to  throw  them  away,  as  you  do,  in  your  ordinary 
conversation." 

"  Fear  you  nothing.  Master  Topham,"  answered  Danger- 
field  ;  ''  it  is  right  to  keep  a  man's  gifts  in  use ;  and  were  I 
altogether  to  renounce  oaths  in  my  private  discourse,  how 
should  I  know  how  to  use  one  when  I  needed  it  ?  But  you 
hear  me  use  none  of  your  Papist  abjurations.  I  swear  not 
by  the  mass,  or  before  George,  or  by  anything  that  belongs  to 
idolatry ;  but  such  downright  oaths  as  may  serve  a  poor  Prot- 
estant gentleman  who  would  fain  serve  Heaven  and  the  king." 

"  Bravely  spoken,  most  noble  Festus,"  said  his  yoke-fellow. 
"  But  do  not  suppose  that,  although  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of 
garnishing  my  words  with  oaths  out  of  season,  I  shall  be 
wanting,  when  called  upon,  to  declare  the  height  and  the 
depth,  the  width  and  the  length,  of  this  hellish  plot  against 
the  king  and  the  Protestant  faith." 


228  WA  VERLEY  NO  VEL S 

Dizzy,  and  almost  sick,  with  listening  to  the  nndisgnised 
brutality  of  these  fellows,  Peveril,  having  with  difficulty 
prevailed  on  Bridlesley  to  settle  his  purchase,  at  length  led 
forth  his  gray  steed  ;  but  was  scarce  out  of  the  yard,  when 
he  heard  the  following  alarming  conversation  pass,  of  which 
he  seemed  himself  the  object  : — 

'^  Who  is  that  youth?"  said  the  slow  soft  voice  of  the 
more  precise  of  the  two  witnesses.  "  Methinks  I  have  seen 
him  somewhere  before.     Is  he  from  these  parts  ?'* 

''Not  that  I  know  of,"  said  Bridlesley,  who,  like  all  the 
other  inhabitants  of  England  at  the  time,  answered  the  in- 
terrogatories of  these  fellows  with  the  deference  which  is 
paid  in  Spain  to  the  questions  of  an  inquisitor.  ''  A  stran- 
ger— entirely  a  stranger — never  saw  him  before  ;  a  wild 
young  colt,  I  warrant  him  ;  and  knows  a  horse's  mouth  as 
well  as  I  do." 

''  I  begin  to  bethink  me  I  saw  such  a  face  as  his  at  the 
Jesuits'  consult,  in  the  White  Horse  Tavern,"  answered 
Everett. 

''  And  I  think  I  recollect,"  said  Captaia  Dangerfield 

"  Come — come,  master  and  captain,"  said  the  authoritative 
voice  of  Topham  ;  "  we  will  have  none  of  your  recollections 
at  present.  We  all  know  what  these  are  likely  to  end  in. 
But  I  will  have  you  know,  you  are  not  to  run  till  the  leash 
is  slipped.  The  young  man  is  a  well-looking  lad,  and  gave 
up  his  horse  handsomely  for  the  service  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons. He  knows  how  to  behave  himself  to  his  betters,  I 
warrant  you  ;  and  I  scarce  think  he  has  enough  in  his  purse 
to  pay  the  fees."* 

This  speech  concluded  the  dialogue,  which  Peveril,  finding 
himself  so  much  concerned  in  the  issue,  thought  it  best  to 
hear  to  an  end.  Now,  when  it  ceased,  to  get  out  of  the 
town  unobserved,  and  take  the  nearest  way  to  his  father's 
castle,  seemed  his  wisest  plan.  He  had  settled  his  reckon- 
ing at  the  inn  and  brought  with  him  to  Bridlesley's  the  small 
portmanteau  which  contained  his  few  ncessaries,  so  that  he 
had  no  occasion  to  return  thither.  He  resolved,  therefore, 
to  ride  some  miles  before  he  stopped,  even  for  the  purpose 
of  feeding  his  horse  ;  and  being  pretty  well  acquainted  with 
the  country,  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  push  forward  to  Martin- 
dale  Castle  sooner  than  the  worshipful  Master  Topham, 
whose  saddle  was,  in  the  first  place,  to  be  padded,  and  who, 
when  mounted,  would,  in  all  probability,  ride  with  the  pre- 

*  See  Witnesses  of  the  Popish  Plot.     Note  17 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  220 

caution  of  those  who  require  such  security  against  the  effects 
of  a  hard  trot. 

Under  the  influence  of  these  feelings,  Julian  pushed  for 
Warrington,  a  place  with  which  he  was  well  acquainted  ; 
but,  without  halting  in  the  town,  he  crossed  the  Mersey,  by 
the  bridge  built  by  an  ancestor  of  his  friend  the  Earl  of 
Derby,  and  continued  his  route  towards  Dishley,  on  the 
borders  of  Derbyshire.  He  might  have  reached  this  latter 
Village  easily  had  his  horse  been  fitter  for  a  forced  march  ; 
but  in  the  course  of  the  journey  he  had  occasion,  more  than 
once,  to  curse  the  ofl&cial  dignity  of  the  person  who  had 
robbed  him  of  his  better  steed,  while  taking  the  best  direc- 
tion he  could  through  a  country  with  which  he  was  only 
generally  acquainted. 

At  length,  near  Altringham,  a  halt  became  unavoidable ; 
and  Peveril  had  only  to  look  for  some  quiet  and  sequestered 
place  of  refreshment.  This  presented  itself  in  the  form  of 
a  small  cluster  of  cottages,  the  best  of  which  united  the 
characters  of  an  alehouse  and  a  mill,  where  the  sign  of  the 
Cat  (the  landlord's  faithful  ally  in  defense  of  his  meal-sacks), 
booted  as  high  as  Grimalkin  in  the  fairy  tale,  and  playing 
on  the  fiddle  for  the  more  grace,  announced  that  John 
Whitecraft  united  the  two  honest  occupations  of  landlord 
and  miller  ;  and,  doubtless,  took  toll  from  the  public  in  both 
capacities. 

Such  a  place  promised  a  traveler,  who  journeyed  incognito, 
safer,  if  not  better,  accommodation  than  he  was  like  to  meet 
with  in  more  frequented  inns  ;  and  at  the  door  of  the  Cat 
and  Fiddle  Julian  halted  accordingly. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

In  these  distracted  times,  when  each  man  dreads 
The  bloody  stratagems  of  busy  heads. 

Otway. 

At  the  door  of  the  Oat  and  Fiddle,  Julian  received  the  usual 
attention  paid  to  the  customers  of  an  inferior  house  of  enter- 
tainment. His  horse  was  carried  by  a  ragged  lad,  who  acted 
as  hostler,  into  a  paltry  stable  ;  where,  however,  the  nag 
was  tolerably  supplied  with  food  and  litter. 

Having  seen  the  animal  on  which  his  comfort,  perhaps  his 
safety,  depended  properly  provided  for,  Peveril  entered  the 
kitchen,  which  indeed  was  also  the  parlor  and  hall  of  the 
little  hostelry,  to  try  what  refreshment  he  could  obtain  for 
himself.  Much  to  his  satisfaction,  he  found  there  was  only  one 
guest  in  the  house  besides  himself  ;  but  he  was  less  pleased 
when  he  found  that  he  must  either  go  without  dinner  or 
share  with  that  single  guest  the  only  provisions  which 
chanced  to  be  in  the  house,  namely,  a  dish  of  trouts  and 
eels,  which  their  host,  the  miller,  had  brought  in  from  his 
mill-stream. 

At  the  particular  request  of  Julian,  the  landlady  under- 
took to  add  a  substantial  dish  of  eggs  and  bacon,  which 
perhaps  she  would  not  have  undertaken  for,  had  not  the 
sharp  eye  of  Peveril  discovered  the  flitch  hanging  in  its 
smoky  retreat,  when,  as  its  presence  could  not  be  denied, 
the  hostess  was  compelled  to  bring  it  forward  as  a  part  of 
her  supplies. 

She  was  a  buxom  dame  about  thirty,  whose  comely  and 
cheerful  countenance  did  honor  to  the  choice  of  the  jolly 
miller,  her  loving  mate  ;  and  was  now  stationed  under  the 
shade  of  an  old-fashioned  huge  projecting  chimney,  within 
which  it  was  her  province  to  '*  work  i'  the  fire,^'  and  provide 
for  the  wearied  wayfaring  man  the  good  things  which  were 
to  send  him  rejoicing  on  his  course.  Although,  at  first,  the 
honest  woman  seemed  little  disposed  to  give  herself  much 
additional  trouble  on  Julianas  account,  yet  the  good  looks, 
handsome  figure,  and  easy  civility  of  her  new  guest  soon  be- 
spoke the  principal  part  of  her  attention  ;  and  while  busy 
in  his  service,  she  regarded  him,  from  time  to  time,  with 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  281 

looks  where  something  like  pity  mingled  with  complacency. . 
The  rich  smoke  of  the  rasher,  and  the  eggs  with  which  it 
was  flanked,  already  spread  itself  through  the  apartment  ; 
and  the  hissing  of  these  savory  viands  bore  chorus  to  the 
simmering  of  the  pan,  in  which  the  fish  were  undergoing  a 
slower  decoction.  The  table  was  covered  with  a  clean  huck- 
aback napkin,  and  all  was  in  preparation  for  the  meal, 
which  Julian  began  to  expect  with  a  good  deal  of  impatience, 
when  the  companion  who  was  destined  to  share  it  with  him 
entered  the  apartment. 

At  the  first  glance,  Julian  recognized,  to  his  surprise,  the 
same  indifferently-dressed,  thin-looking  person  who,  during 
the  first  bargain  which  he  had  made  with  Bridlesley,  had 
officiously  interfered  with  his  advice  and  opinion.  Dis- 
pleased at  having  the  company  of  any  stranger  forced  upon 
him,  Peveril  was  still  less  satisfied  to  find  one  who  might 
make  some  claim  of  acquaintance  with  him,  however  slender, 
since  the  circumstances  in  which  he  stood  compelled  him  to 
be  as  reserved  as  possible.  He  therefore  turned  his  back 
upon  his  destined  messmate,  and  pretended  to  amuse  him- 
self by  looking  out  to  the  window,  determined  to  avoid  all 
intercourse  until  it  should  be  inevitably  forced  upon  him. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  other  stranger  went  straight  up  to 
the  landlady,  where  she  toiled  on  household  cares  intent,  and 
demanded  of  her  what  she  meant  by  preparing  bacon  and 
eggs,  when  he  had  positively  charged  her  to  get  nothing 
ready  but  fish. 

The  good  woman,  important  as  every  cook  in  the  discharge 
of  her  duty,  deigned  not  for  some  time  so  much  as  to  acknowl- 
edge that  she  heard  the  reproof  of  her  guest ;  and  when  she 
did  so,  it  was  only  to  repeal  it  in  a  magisterial  and  author- 
itative tone.  '^  If  he  did  not  like  bacon — bacon  from  their 
owe  hutch,  well  fed  on  pease  and  bran — if  he  did  not  like 
bacon  and  eggs — new-laid  eggs,  which  she  had  brought  in 
from  the  hen-roost  with  her  own  hands — why  so  put  case — 
it  was  the  worst  for  his  honor  and  the  better  for  those  who 
did.'' 

"The  better  for  those  who  like  them!''  answered  the 
guest ;  **  that  is  as  much  to  say,  I  am  to  have  a  companion, 
good  woman." 

'*Do  not  'good  woman'  me,  sir," replied  the  miller's  wife, 
''till  I  call  you  good  man  ;  and,  I  promise  you,  many  would 
scruple  to  do  that  to  one  who  does  not  love  eggs  and  bacon 
of  a  Friday," 

"  Nay,  my  good  lady,"  said  her  guest,  "  do  not  fix  any 


282  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

misconstruction  upon  me.  I  daresay  the  eggs  and  the  bacon 
are  excellent ;  only,  they  are  rather  a  dish  too  heavy  for  my 
stomach/' 

"Ay,  or  your  conscience  perhaps,  sir,"  answered  the 
hostess.  "  And  now,  I  bethink  me,  you  must  needs  have 
your  fish  fried  with  oil,  instead  of  the  good  drippings  I  was 
going  to  put  to  them.  1  would  I  could  spell  the  meaning  of 
all  this  now  :  but  I  warrant  John  Bigstaff,  the  constable, 
could  conjure  something  out  of  it." 

There  was  a  pause  here  ;  but  Julian,  somewhat  alarmed  at 
the  tone  which  the  conversation  assumed,  became  interested 
in  watching  the  dumb  show  which  succeeded.  By  bringing 
his  head  a  little  towards  the  left,  but  without  turning  round 
or  quitting  the  projecting  latticed  window  where  he  had 
taken  his  station,  he  could  observe  that  the  stranger,  secured, 
as  he  seemed  to  think  himself,  from  observation,  had  sidled 
close  up  to  the  landlady,  and,  as  he  conceived,  had  put  a  piece 
of  money  into  her  hand.  The  altered  tone  of  the  miller's 
moiety  corresponded  very  much  with  this  supposition. 

"Nay,  indeed,  and  forsooth,"  she  said,  "her  house  was 
Liberty  Hall ;  and  so  should  every  publican's  be.  What  was 
it  to  her  what  gentlefolks  ate  or  drank,  providing  they  paid 
for  it  honestly  ?  There  were  many  honest  gentlemen  whose 
stomachs  could  not  abide  bacon,  grease,  or  dripping,  es- 
pecially on  a  Friday  ;  and  what  was  that  to  her,  or  any  one 
in  her  line,  so  gentlefolks  paid  honestly  for  the  trouble  ? 
Only,  she  would  say  that  her  bacon  and  eggs  could  not  be 
mended  betwixt  this  and  Liverpool :  and  that  she  would  live 
and  die  upon." 

"I  shall  hardly  dispute  it,"  said  the  stranger ;  and  turn- 
ing towards  Julian,  he  added,  "I  wish  this  gentleman,  who 
I  suppose  is  my  trencher-companion,  much  joy  of  the 
dainties  which  I  cannot  assist  him  in  consuming." 

"  I  assure  you,  sir,"  answered  Peveril,  who  now  felt  him- 
self compelled  to  turn  about  and  reply  with  civility,  "  that 
it  was  with  difficulty  I  could  prevail  on  my  landlady  to  add 
my  cover  to  yours,  though  she  seem  snow  such  a  zealot  for 
the  consumption  of  eggs  and  bacon." 

"I  am  zealous  for  nothing,"  said  the  landlady,  "save  that 
men  would  eat  their  victuals  and  pay  their  score  ;  and  if 
there  be  enough  in  one  dish  to  serve  two  guests,  I  see  little 
purpose  in  dressing  them  two  ;  however,  they  are  ready  now, 
and  done  to  a  nicety.     Here,  Alice  ! — Alice  ! " 

The  sound  of  that  well-known  name  made  Julian  start ; 
but  the  Alice  who  replied  to  the  call  ill  resembled  the  vision 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  2S3 

which  his  imagination  connected  with  the  accents,  being  a 
dowdy,  slipshod  wench,  the  drudge  of  the  low  inn  which 
afforded  him  shelter.  She  assisted  her  mistress  in  putting 
on  the  table  the  dishes  which  the  latter  had  prepared  ;  and 
a  foaming  jug  of  home-brewed  ale,  being  placed  betwixt 
them,  was  warranted  by  Dame  Whitecraft  as  excellent ; 
''  for,"  said  she,  '^  we  know  by  practise  that  too  much  water 
drowns  the  miller,  and  we  spare  it  on  our  malt  as  we  would 
in  our  mill-dam. '* 

"  I  drink  to  your  health  in  it,  dame,'"*  said  the  elder 
stranger ;  "  and  a  cup  of  thanks  for  these  excellent  fish  ; 
and  to  the  drowning  of  all  unkindness  between  us." 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,"  said  the  dame,  ''  and  wish  you  the 
like ;  but  I  dare  not  pledge  you,  for  our  gaffer  says  the  ale 
is  brewed  too  strong  for  women  ;  so  I  only  drink  a  glass  of 
canary  at  a  time  with  a  gossip  or  any  gentleman  guest  that 
is  so  minded." 

*'  You  shall  drink  one  with  me  then,  dame,"  said  Peveril, 
^^  so  you  will  let  me  have  a  flagon." 

'^  That  you  shall,  sir,  and  as  good  as  ever  was  broached ; 
but  I  must  to  the  mill,  to  get  the  key  from  the  goodman." 

So  saying,  and  tucking  her  clean  gown  through  the  pocket- 
holes,  that  her  steps  might  be  the  more  alert  and  her  dress 
escape  dust,  off  she  tripped  to  the  mill,  which  lay  close  ad- 
joining. 

*'  A  dainty  dame,  and  dangerous,  is  the  miller's  wife/' 
said  the  stranger,  looking  at  Peveril.  ''  Is  not  that  old 
Chaucer's  phrase  ?  " 

"  I — I  believe  so,"  said  Peveril,  not  much  read  in  Chaucer, 
who  was  then  even  more  neglected  than  at  present ;  and 
much  surprised  at  a  literary  quotation  from  one  of  the  mean 
appearance  exhibited  by  the  person  before  him. 

'*  Yes,"  answered  the  stranger,  '^  I  see  that  you,  like  other 
young  gentlemen  of  the  time,  are  better  acquainted  with 
Cowley  and  Waller  than  with  the  '  well  of  English  unde- 
filed.'  I  cannot  help  differing.  There  are  touches  of  nature 
about  the  old  bard  of  Woodstock  that  to  me  are  worth  all 
the  turns  of  laborious  wit  in  Cowley,  and  all  the  ornate  and 
artificial  simplicity  of  his  courtly  competitor.  The  descrip- 
tion, for  instance,  of  his  country  coquette — 

Wincing  she  was,  as  is  a  wanton  colt. 
Sweet  as  a  flower,  and  upright  as  a  bolt. 

Then  again,  for  pathos,  where  will  you  mend  the  dying 
scene  of  Arcite  ? 


2U  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Alas,  my  heartis  queen  !  alas,  my  wife  I 
Giver  at  once,  and  ender  of  my  life. 
What  is  this  world  ?     What  axen  men  to  have  I 
Now  with  his  love,  now  in  his  cold  grave 
Alone,  withouten  other  company. 

But  I  tire  you,  sir ;  and  do  injustice  to  the  poet,  whom  1 
remember  but  by  halves." 

'*  On  the  contrary,  sir,"  replied  Peveril,  ^'you  make  him 
more  intelligible  to  me  in  your  recitation  than  1  have  found 
him  when  I  have  tried  to  peruse  him  myself." 

*^You  were  only  frightened  by  the  antiquated  spelling 
and  ^  the  letters  black,^  "  said  his  companion.  ''  It  is  many 
a  scholar's  case,  who  mistakes  a  nut,  which  he  could  crack 
with  a  little  exertion,  for  a  bullet,  which  he  must  needs 
break  his  teeth  on  ;  but  yours  are  better  employed.  Shall 
I  offer  you  some  of  this  fish  ?  " 

'^  Not  so,  sir,"  replied  Julian,  willing  to  show  himself  a 
man  of  reading  in  his  turn;  ^^I  hold  with  old  Caius,  and 
profess  to  fear  judgment,  to  fight  where  I  cannot  choose,  and 
to  eat  no  fish." 

The  stranger  cast  a  startled  look  around  him  at  this  ob- 
servation, which  Julian  had  thrown  out  on  purpose  to  ascer- 
tain, if  possible,  the  quality  of  his  companion,  whose  present 
language  was  so  different  from  the  character  he  had  assumed 
at  Bridlesley's.  His  countenance,  too,  although  the  fea- 
tures were  of  an  ordinary,  not  to  say  mean  cast,  had  that 
character  of  intelligence  which  education  gives  to  the  most 
homely  face  ;  and  his  manners  were  so  easy  and  disembar- 
rassed as  plainly  showed  a  complete  acquaintance  with 
society,  as  well  as  the  habit  of  mingling  with  it  in  the 
higher  stages.  The  alarm  which  he  had  evidently  shown  at 
Peveril's  answer  was  but  momentary  ;  for  he  almost  instantly 
replied,  with  a  smile,  ^'  I  promise  you,  sir,  that  you  are  in 
no  dangerous  company  ;  for,  notwithstanding  my  fish  dinner, 
I  am  much  disposed  to  trifle  with  some  of  your  savory  mess, 
if  you  will  indulge  me  so  far." 

Peveril  accordingly  reinforced  the  stranger's  trencher  with 
what  remained  of  the  bacon  and  eggs,  and  saw  him  swallow 
a  mouthful  or  two  wixh  apparent  relish  ;  but  presently  after, 
he  began  to  dally  with  his  knife  and  fork,  like  one  whose 
appetite  was  satiated  ;  then  took  a  long  draught  of  the 
black-jack,  and  handed  his  platter  to  the  large  mastiff  dog, 
who,  attracted  by  the  smell  of  the  dinner,  had  sat  down  be- 
fore him  for  some  time,  licking  his  chops,  and  following 
with  his  eye  every  morsel  which  the  guest  raised  to  his  head. 


i 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  285 

"  Here,  my  poor  fellow/'  said  he,  '^  thou  hast  had  no 
fish,  and  needest  this  supernumerary  trencher-load  more 
than  I  do.  I  cannot  withstand  thy  mute  supplication  any 
longer/' 

The  dog  answered  these  courtesies  by  a  civil  shake  of  the 
tail,  while  he  gobbled  up  what  was  assigned  him  by  the 
stranger's  benevolence,  in  the  greater  haste,  that  he  heard 
his  mistress's  voice  at  the  door. 

**Here  is  the  canary,  gentlemen, '^  said  the  landlady; 
"and  the  goodman  has  set  off  the  mill,  to  come  to  wait 
on  you  himself.  He  always  does  so,  when  company  drink 
wine." 

''  That  he  may  come  in  for  the  host's,  that  is,  for  the 
lion's,  share,"  said  the  stranger,  looking  at  Peveril. 

*'  The  shot  is  mine,"  said  Julian  ;  '^  and  if  mine  host  will 
share  it,  I  will  willingly  bestow  another  quart  on  him,  and 
on  you,  sir.     I  never  break  old  customs." 

These  sounds  caught  the  ear  of  Gaffer  Whitecraft,  who 
had  entered  the  room — a  strapping  specimen  of  his  robust 
trade,  prepared  to  play  the  civil  or  the  surly  host  as  his  com- 
pany should  be  acceptable  or  otherwise.  At  Julian's  invita- 
tion, he  doffed  his  dusty  bonnet,  brushed  from  his  sleeve 
the  looser  particles  of  his  professional  dust,  and  sitting  down 
on  the  end  of  a  bench,  about  a  yard  from  the  table,  filled  a 
glass  of  canary  and  drank  to  his  guests,  and  ^*  especially  to 
this  noble  gentleman,"  indicating  Peveril,  who  had  ordered 
the  canary. 

Julian  returned  the  courtesy  by  drinking  his  health,  and 
asking  what  news  were  about  in  the  country. 

"  Nought,  sir — I  hears  on  nought,  except  this  plot,  as 
they  call  it,  that  they  are  pursuing  the  Papishers  about ; 
but  it  brings  water  to  my  mill,  as  the  saying  is.  Between 
expresses  hurrying  hither  and  thither,  and  guards  and  pris- 
oners riding  to  and  again,  and  the  custom  of  the  neighbors, 
that  come  to  speak  over  the  news  of  an  evening,  nightly  I 
may  say,  instead  of  once  a-week,  why  the  spigot  is  in  use, 
gentlemen,  and  your  landlord  thrives  ;  and  then  I  serving 
as  constable,  and  being  a  known  Protestant,  I  have  tapped, 
I  may  venture  to  say,  it  may  be  ten  stands  of  ale  extraordi- 
nary, besides  a  reasonable  sale  of  wine  for  a  country  corner. 
Heaven  make  us  thankfyl,  and  keep  all  good  Protestants 
from  plot  and  Popery  ! " 

'^  I  can  easily  conceive,  my  friend,"  said  Julian,  "  that 
curiosity  is  a  passion  which  rnns  naturally  to  the  alehouse  ; 
and  that  anger,  and  jealousy,  and  fear  are  all  of  them  thirsty 


236  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

passions,  and  great  consumers  of  home-brewed.  But  I  am  a 
perfect  stranger  in  these  parts,  and  I  would  willingly  learn, 
from  a  sensible  man  like  you,  a  little  of  this  same  plot,  of 
which  men  speak  so  much  and  appear  to  know  so  little." 

*'  Learn  a  little  of  it !     Why,  it  is  the  most  horrible — the 

most  damnable,  bloodthirsty  beast  of  a  plot But  hold — 

hold,  my  good  master  ;  I  hope,  in  the  first  place,  you  be- 
lieve there  is  a  plot  ?  for,  otherwise,  the  justice  must  have  a 
word  with  you,  so  sure  as  my  name  is  John  Whitecraft.*^ 

*'  It  shall  not  need,^^  said  Peveril  ;  ^^  for  I  assure  you,  mine 
host,  I  believe  in  the  plot  as  freely  and  fully  as  a  raan  can 
believe  in  anything  he  cannot  understand." 

*'  God  forbid  that  anybody  should  pretend  to  understand 
it,"  said  the  implicit  constable  ;  "  for  his  worship  the  jus- 
tice says  it  is  a  mile  beyond  him,  and  he  be  as  deep  as  most 
of  them.  But  men  may  believe  though  they  do  not  under- 
stand ;  and  that  is  what  the  Romanists  say  themselves^  But 
this  I  am  sure  of,  it  makes  a  rare  stirring  time  for  justices, 
and  witnesses,  and  constables.  So  here^s  to  your  health 
again,  gentlemen,  in  a  cup  of  neat  canary." 

^'  Come — come,  John  Whitecraft,"  said  his  wife,  ''  do  not 
you  demean  yourself  by  naming  witnesses  along  with  jus- 
tices and  constables.  All  the  world  knows  how  they  come 
by  their  money." 

**  Ay,  but  all  the  world  knows  that  they  do  come  by  it, 
dame ;  and  that  is  a  great  comfort.  They  rustle  in  their 
canonical  silks,  and  swagger  in  their  buff  and  scarlet,  who 
but  they  ?  Ay^ay,  the  cursed  fox  thrives — and  not  so 
cursed  neither.  Is  there  not  Doctor  Titus  Gates,  the  saviour 
of  the  nation — does  he  not  live  at  Whitehall,  and  eat  off 
plate,  and  have  a  pension  of  thousands  a-year,  for  what  I 
know  ?  and  is  he  not  to  be  Bishop  of  Litchfield  so  soon  as 
Dr.  Doddrum  dies  ?" 

"Then  I  hope  Doctor  Doddrum's  reverence  will  live  tlilese 
twenty  years  ;  and  I  dare  say  I  am  the  first  that  ever  wished 
such  a  wish,"  said  the  hostess.  ''  I  do  not  understand  these 
doings,  not  I ;  and  if  a  hundred  Jesuits  came  to  hold  a  con- 
sult at  my  house,  as  they  did  at  the  White  Horse  Tavern, 
I  should  think  it  quite  out  of  the  line  of  business  to  bear 
witness  against  them,  provided  they  drank  well  and  paid 
their  score."  ^ 

*'  Very  true,  dame,"  said  her  elder  guest ;  "  that  is  what  I 
call  keeping  a  good  publican  conscience  ;  and  so  I  will  pay 
score  presently,  and  be  jogging  on  my  way." 

Peveril,  on  his  part,  also  demanded  a  reckoning,  and  dis- 


PEVEklL  UF  THE  PEAK  ^1 

charged  it  so  liberally  that  the  miller  flourished  his  hat  as  he 
bowed,  and  the  hostess  courtesied  down  to  the  ground. 

The  horses  of  both  guests  were  brought  forth  ;  and  they 
mounted  in  order  to  depart  in  company.  The  host  and 
hostess  stood  in  the  doorway  to  see  them  depart.  The  land- 
lord proffered  a  stirrup-cup  to  the  elder  guest,  while  the 
landlady  offered  Peveril  a  glass  from  her  own  peculiar  bottle. 
For  this  purpose,  she  mounted  on  the  horse-block,  with  flask 
and  glass  in  hand  ;  so  that  it  was  easy  for  the  departing  guest, 
although  on  horseback,  to  return  the  courtesy  in  the  most 
approved  manner,  namely,  by  throwing  his  arm  over  his 
landlady's  shoulder  and  saluting  her  at  parting. 

Dame  Whitecraft  could  not  decline  this  familiarity  ;  for 
there  is  no  room  for  traversing  upon  a  horse-block,  and  the 
hands  which  might  have  served  her  for  resistance  were  oc- 
cupied with  glass  and  bottle — matters  too  precious  to  be 
thrown  away  in  such  a  struggle.  Apparently,  however,  she 
had  something  else  in  her  head  ;  for,  as,  after  a  brief  affecta- 
tion of  reluctance,  she  permitted  PeveriFs  face  to  approach 
hers,  she  whispered  in  his  ear,  ''  Beware  of  trepans  ! '-'  an 
Hwful  intimation,  which  in  those  days  of  distrust,  suspicion, 
avnd  treachery,  was  as  effectual  in  interdicting  free  and  social 
intercourse  as  the  advertisement  of  "  man-traps  and  spring- 
guns '^  to  protect  an  orchard.  Pressing  her  hand,  in  intima- 
tion that  he  comprehended  her  hint,  she  shook  his  warmly 
in  return,  and  bade  God  speed  him.  There  was  a  cloud  on 
John  Whitecraft's  brow ;  nor  did  his  final  farewell  sound 
half  so  cordial  as  that  which  had  been  spoken  within  doors. 
But  then  Peveril  reflected  that  the  same  guest  is  not  always 
equally  acceptable  to  landlord  and  landlady  ;  and  unconscious 
of  having  done  anything  to  excite  the  miller's  displeasure, 
he  pursued  his  journey  without  thinking  farther  of  the 
matter. 

Julian  was  a  little  surprised,  and  not  altogether  pleased, 
to  find  that  his  new  acquaintance  held  the  same  road  with 
him.  He  had  many  reasons  for  wishing  to  travel  alone  ;  and 
the  hostess's  caution  still  rang  in  his  ears.  If  this  man,  pos- 
sessed of  so  much  shrewdness  as  his  countenance  and  con- 
versation intimated,  versatile,  as  he  had  occasion  to  remark, 
and  disguised  beneath  his  condition,  should  prove,  as  was 
likely,  to  be  a  concealed  Jesuit  or  seminary  priest,  traveling 
upon  their  great  task  of  the  conversion  of  England,  and 
rooting  out  of  the  Northern  heresy — a  more  dangerous  com- 
panion, for  a  person  in  his  own  circumstances,  could  hardly 
be  imagined,  since  keeping  society  with  him  might  seem  to 


238  WA  VERLEY  NO VEL8 

authorize  whatever  reports  had  been  spread  concerning  the 
attachment  of  his  family  to  the  Catholic  cause.  At  the  same 
time,  it  was  very  difficult,  without  actual  rudeness,  to  shake 
off  the  company  of  one  who  seemed  determined,  whether 
spoken  to  or  not,  to  remain  alongside  of  him. 

Peveril  tried  the  experiment  of  riding  slow  ;  but  his  com- 
panion, determined  not  to  drop  him,  slackened  his  pace  so 
as  to  keep  close  by  him.  Julian  then  spurred  his  horse  to  a 
full  trot ;  and  was  soon  satisfied  that  the  stranger,  notwith- 
standing the  meanness  of  his  appearance,  was  so  much  better 
mounted  than  himself  as  to  render  vain  any  thoughts  of  out- 
riding him.  He  pulled  up  his  horse  to  a  more  reasonable 
pace,  therefore,  in  a  sort  of  despair.  Upon  his  doing  so,  his 
companion,  who  had  been  hitherto  silent,  observed,  that 
Peveril  was  not  so  well  qualified  to  try  speed  upon  the  road 
as  he  would  have  been  had  he  abode  by  his  first  bargain  of 
horse-flesh  that  morning. 

Peveril  assented  drily,  but  observed,  that  the  animal 
would  serve  his  immediate  purpose,  though  he  feared  it 
would  render  him  indifferent  company  for  a  person  better 
mounted. 

*'  By  no  means, '^  answered  his  civil  companion  ;  ''  I  am  one 
of  those  who  have  traveled  so  much  as  to  be  accustomed  to 
make  my  journey  at  any  rate  of  motion  which  may  be  most 
agreeable  to  my  company." 

Peveril  made  no  reply  to  this  polite  intimation,  being  too 
sincere  to  tender  the  thanks  which,  in  courtesy,  were  the 
proper  answer.  A  second  pause  ensued,  which  was  broken 
by  Julian  asking  the  stranger  whether  their  roads  were  likely 
to  lie  long  together  in  the  same  direction. 

''I  cannot  tell,"  said  the  stranger,  smiling,  *' unless  I 
knew  which  way  you  were  traveling." 

"  I  am  uncertain  how  far  I  shall  go  to-night,"  said  Julian, 
willingly  misunderstanding  the  purport  of  the  reply. 

"And  so  am  I,"  replied  the  stranger  ;  "but  though  my 
horse  goes  better  than  yours,  I  think  it  will  be  wise  to  spare 
him  ;  and  in  case  our  road  continues  to  lie  the  same  way,  we 
are  likely  to  sup,  as  we  have  dined,  together." 

Julian  made  no  answer  whatever  to  this  round  intimation, 
but  continued  to  ride  on,  turning,  in  his  own  mind,  whether 
it  would  not  be  wisest  to  come  to  a  distinct  understanding 
with  his  pertinacious  attendant,  and  to  explain,  in  so  many 
words,  that  it  was  his  pleasure  to  travel  alone.  But,  besides 
that  the  sort  of  acquaintance  which  they  had  formed  during 
dinner  rendered  him  unwilling  to  be  directly  uncivil  towards 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  289 

a  person  of  gentlemanlike  manners,  he  had  also  to  consider 
that  he  might  very  possibly  be  mistaken  in  this  man^s  char- 
acter and  purpose  ;  in  which  case,  the  cynically  refusing  the 
society  of  a  sound  Protestant  would  afford  a  pregnant  matter 
of  suspicion  as  traveling  in  company  with  a  disguised  Jesuit. 

After  brief  reflection,  therefore,  he  resolved  to  endure  the 
encumbrance  of  the  stranger^s  society  until  a  fair  opportu- 
nity should  occur  to  rid  himself  of  it ;  and,  in  the  meantime, 
to  act  with  as  much  caution  as  he  possibly  could  in  any  com- 
munication that  might  take  place  between  them,  for  Dame 
Whitecraft's  parting  caution  still  rang  anxiously  in  his  ears, 
and  the  consequences  of  his  own  arrest  upon  suspicion  must 
deprive  him  of  every  opportunity  of  serving  his  father,  or 
the  countess,  or  Major  Bridgenorth,  upon  whose  interest, 
also,  he  had  promised  himself  to  keep  an  eye. 

While  he  revolved  these  things  in  his  mind,  they  had 
journeyed  several  miles  without  speaking  ;  and  now  entered 
upon  a  more  waste  country  and  worse  roads  than  they  had 
hitherto  found,  being,  in  fact,  approaching  the  more  hilly 
district  of  Derbyshire.  In  traveling  on  a  very  stony  and 
uneven  lane,  Julian's  horse  repeatedly  stumbled  ;  and,  had 
he  not  been  supported  by  the  rider's  judicious  use  of  the 
bridle,  must  at  length  certainly  have  fallen  under  him. 

**  These  are  times  which  crave  wary  riding,  sir,*'  said  his 
companion  ;  "  and  by  your  seat  in  the  saddle,  and  your  hand 
on  the  rein,  you  seem  to  understand  it  to  be  so.'' 

"  I  have  been  long  a  horseman,  sir,"  answered  Peveril. 

"  And  long  a  traveler,  too,  sir,  I  should  suppose  ;  since,  by 
the  great  caution  you  observe,  you  seem  to  think  the  human 
tongue  requires  a  curb,  as  well  as  the  horse's  jaws." 

"  Wiser  men  than  I  have  been  of  opinion,"  answered 
Peveril,  '^  that  it  were  a  part  of  prudence  to  be  silent  when 
men  have  little  or  nothing  to  say." 

"1  cannot  approve  of  their  opinion,"  answered  the 
stranger.  ^*  All  knowledge  is  gained  by  communication, 
either  with  the  dead,  through  books,  or,  more  pleasingly, 
through  the  conversation  of  the  living.  The  deaf  and  dumb, 
alone,  are  excluded  from  improvement ;  and  surely  their 
situation  is  not  so  enviable  than  we  should  imitate  them." 

At  this  illustration,  which  wakened  a  startling  echo  in 
Peveril's  bosom,  the  young  man  looked  hard  at  his  compan- 
ion ;  but  in  the  composed  countenance  and  calm  blue  eye 
he  read  no  consciousness  of  a  farther  meaning  than  the  words 
immediately  and  directly  implied.  He  paused  a  moment, 
and  then  answered,  **  You  seem  to  be  a  person,  sir,  of  shrewd 


a40  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

apprehension  ;  and  I  should  have  thought  it  might  have 
occurred  to  you  that,  in  the  present  suspicious  times,  men 
may,  without  censure,  avoid  communications  with  strangers. 
You  know  not  me ;  and  to  me  you  are  totally  unknown. 
There  is  not  room  for  much  discourse  between  us,  without 
trespassing  on  the  general  topics  of  the  day,  which  carry  in 
them  seeds  of  quarrel  between  friends,  much  more  betwixt 
strangers.  At  any  other  time,  the  society  of  an  intelligent 
companion  would  have  been  most  acceptable  upon  my  soli- 
tary ride  ;  but  at  present " 

"  At  present  ! "  said  the  other,  interrupting  him,  ^'  you 
are  like  the  old  Eomans,  who  held  that  hostis  meant  both  a 
stranger  and  an  enemy.  I  will  therefore  be  no  longer  a 
stranger.  My  name  is  Ganlesse  ;  by  profession  I  am  a  Eoman 
Catholic  priest.  I  am  traveling  here  in  dread  of  my  life  ; 
and  I  am  very  glad  to  have  you  for  a  companion." 

**  I  thank  you  for  the  information  with  all  my  heart,"  said 
Peveril ;  ''  and  to  avail  myself  of  it  to  the  uttermost,  I  must 
beg  of  you  to  ride  forward,  or  lag  behind,  or  take  a  side-path, 
at  your  own  pleasure  ;  for  as  I  am  no  Catholic,  and  travel 
upon  business  of  high  concernment,  I  am  exposed  both  to 
risk  and  delay,  and  even  to  danger,  by  keeping  such  suspi- 
cious company.  And  so.  Master  Ganlesse,  keep  your  own 
pace,  and  I  will  keep  the  contrary  ;  for  I  beg  leave  to  forbear 
your  company." 

As  Peveril  spoke  thus,  he  pulled  up  his  horse  and  made  a 
full  stop. 

The  stranger  burst  out  a-laughing.  '^  What ! "  he  said, 
"you  forbear  my  company  for  a  trifle  of  danger  ?  St.  An- 
thony I  how  the  warm  blood  of  the  Cavaliers  is  chilled  in  the 
young  men  of  the  present  day  !  This  young  gallant,  now, 
has  a  father,  I  warrant,  who  has  endured  as  many  adventures 
for  hunted  priests  as  a  knight-errand  ior  distressed  damsels." 

"  This  raillery  avails  nothing,  sir,"  said  Peveril.  "  I  must 
request  you  will  keep  your  own  way." 

*'  My  way  is  yours,"  said  the  pertinacious  Master  Gan- 
lesse, as  he  called  himself ;  "  and  we  will  both  travel  the 
safer  that  we  journey  in  company.  I  have  the  receipt  of 
fern-seed,  man,  and  walk  invisible.  Besides,  you  would  not 
have  me  quit  you  in  this  lane,  where  there  is  no  turn  to  right 
or  left?" 

Peveril  moved  on,  desirous  to  avoid  open  violence;  for 
which  the  indifferent  tone  of  the  traveler,  indeed,  afforded 
no  apt  pretext  ;  yet  highly  disliking  his  company,  and 
determined  to  take  the  first  opportunity  to  rid  himself  of  it. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  941 

The  stranger  proceeded  at  the  same  pace  with  nim,  keep- 
ing cautiously  on  his  bridle  hand,  as  if  to  secure  that  ad- 
vantage in  case  of  a  struggle.  But  his  language  did  not 
intimate  the  least  apprehension.  ''  You  do  me  wrong/'  he 
said  to  Peveril,  "  and  you  equally  wrong  yourself.  You  are 
uncertain  where  to  lodge  to-night ;  trust  to  my  guidance. 
Here  is  an  ancient  hall,  within  four  miles,  with  an  old 
knightly  pantaloon  for  its  lord,  an  all-be-ruffled  Dame  Bar- 
bara for  the  lady  gay,  a  Jesuit  in  a  butler's  habit  to  say 
grace,  an  old  tale  of  Edgehill  and  Worster  fights  to  relish 
a  cold  venison  pasty  and  a  flask  of  claret  mantled  with  cob- 
webs, a  bed  for  you  in  the  priest's  hiding-hole,  and,  for 
aught  I  know,  pretty  Mistress  Betty,  the  dairymaid,  to 
make  it  ready." 

"  This  has  no  charms  for  me,  sir,"  said  Peveril,  who,  in 
spite  of  himself,  could  not  but  be  amused  with  the  ready 
sketch  which  the  stranger  gave  of  many  an  old  mansion  in 
Cheshire  and  Derbyshire,  where  the  owners  retained  the 
ancient  faith  of  Eome. 

"  Well,  I  see  I  cannot  charm  you  in  this  way,"  continued 
his  companion  ;  '^  I  must  strike  another  key.  I  am  no 
longer  Ganlesse,  the  seminary  priest,  but  (changing  his 
tone,  and  snuffling  in  the  nose)  Simon  Canter,  a  poor 
preacher  of  the  Word,  who  travels  this  way  to  call  sinners 
to  repentance,  and  to  strengthen,  and  to  edify,  and  to 
fructify,  among  the  scattered  remnant  who  hold  fast, the 
truth.     What  say  you  to  this,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  admire  your  versatility,  sir,  and  could  be  entertained 
with  it  at  another  time.  At  present,  sincerity  is  more  in 
request." 

*' Sincerity  ! "  said  the  stranger.  "A  child's  whistle, 
with  but  two  notes  in  in — yea,  yea  and  nay,  nay.  Why, 
man,  the  very  Quakers  have  renounced  it,  and  have  got  in 
its  stead  a  gallant  recorder,  called  hypocrisy,  that  is  some- 
what like  sincerity  in  form,  but  of  much  greater  compass, 
and  combines  the  whole  gamut.  Come,  be  ruled — be  a 
disciple  of  Simon  Canter  for  the  evening,  and  we  will  leave 
the  old  tumble-down  castle  of  the  knight  aforesaid,  on  the 
left  hand,  for  a  new  brick-built  mansion,  erected  by  an 
eminent  salt-boiler  from  Namptwich,  who  expects  the  said 
Simon  to  make  a  strong  spiritual  pickle  for  the  preservation 
of  a  soul  somewhat  corrupted  by  the  evil  communications  of 
this  wicked  world.  What  say  you  ?  He  has  two  daughters — 
brighter  eyes  never  beamed  under  a  pinched  hood  ;  and  for 
myself,  I  think  there  is  more  fire  in  those  who  live  only  to 
l6 


M2  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

love  and  to  devotion  than  in  your  court  beauties,  whose 
hearts  are  running  on  twenty  follies  besides.  You  know 
not  the  pleasure  of  being  conscience-keeper  to  a  pretty 
precisian,  who  in  one  breath  repeats  her  foibles  and  in  the 
next  confesses  her  passion.  Perhaps,  though,  you  may 
have  known  such  in  your  day  ?  Come,  sir,  it  grows  too 
dark  to  see  your  blushes  ;  but  I  am  sure  they  are  burning  on 
your  cheek.'' 

*'  You  take  great  freedom,  sir,''  said  Peveril,  as  they  now 
approached  the  end  of  the  lane,  where  it  opened  on  a  broad 
common  ;  "  and  you  seem  rather  to  count  more  on  my 
forbearance  than  you  have  room  to  do  with  safety.  We  are 
now  nearly  free  of  the  lane  which  has  made  us  companions 
for  this  last  half-hour.  To  avoid  your  father  company,  I 
will  take  the  turn  to  the  left  upon  that  common  ;  and  if 
you  follow  me,  it  shall  be  at  your  peril.  Observe,  I  am  well 
armed  ;  and  you  will  fight  at  odds." 

''Not  at  odds,"  returned  the  provoking  stranger,  ''  while 
I  have  my  brown  jennet,  with  which  I  can  ride  round  and 
around  you  at  pleasure  ;  and  this  text,  of  a  handful  in 
length  (showing  a  pistol  which  he  drew  from  his  bosom), 
which  discharges  very  convincing  doctrine  on  the  pressure 
of  a  forefinger,  and  is  apt  to  equalize  all  odds,  as  you  call 
them,  of  youth  and  strength.  Let  there  be  no  strife  be- 
tween us,  however  ;  the  moor  lies  before  us — choose  your 
path  on  it ;  I  take  the  other." 

'*  I  wish  you  good-night,  sir,"  and  Peveril  to  the  stranger. 
"  I  ask  your  forgiveness,  if  I  have  misconstrued  you  in  any- 
thing; but  the  times  are  perilous,  and  a  man's  life  may 
depend  on  the  society  in  which  he  travels." 

**True,"  said  the  stranger ;  ''  but  in  your  case  the  danger 
is  already  undergone,  and  you  should  seek  to  counteract  it. 
You  have  traveled  in  my  company  long  enough  to  devise 
a  handsome  branch  of  the  Popish  Plot.  How  will  you  look 
when  you  see  come  forth,  in  comely  folio  form,  Tlie  Nar- 
rative of  Simon  Canter,  otherwise  called  Richard  Ganlesse, 
concerning  the  Horrid  Popish  Conspiracy  for  the  Murder  of 
the  King  and  Massacre  of  all  Protestants,  as  given  on  oath 
to  the  Honorable  House  of  Co7nmons  ;  setting  forth  how  far 
Julian  Peveril,  Younger,  of  Martindale  Castle,  is  concerned 
in  carrying  on  the  same "  * 

"How,  sir?  What  mean  you?"  said  Peveril,  much 
startled. 

*'  Nay,  sir,"  replied  his  companion,  *'  do  not  interrupt  my 

♦  See  Narratives  of  the  Plot.    Note  18. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  243 

title-page.  Now  that  Gates  and  Bedloe  have  drawn  the 
great  prizes,  the  subordinate  discoverers  get  little  but  by  the 
sale  of  their  Narrative  ;  and  Janeway,  Newman,  Simmons, 
and  every  book-seller  of  them  will  tell  you  that  the  title  is 
half  the  narrative.  Mine  shall  therefore  set  forth  the  various 
schemes  you  have  communicated  to  me,  of  landing  ten  thou- 
sand soldiers  from  the  Isle  of  Man  upon  the  coast  of  Lan- 
cashire :  and  marching  into  Wales,  to  join  the  ten  thousand 
pilgrims  who  are  to  be  shipped  from  Spain  ;  and  so  complet- 
mg  the  destruction  of  the  Protestant  religion,  and  of  the 
devoted  city  of  London.  Truly,  I  think  such  a  Narrative, 
well  spiced  with  a  few  horrors,  and  published  cum  privilegio 
Parliamenti,  might,  though  the  market  be  somewhat  over- 
stocked, be  still  worth  some  twenty  or  thirty  pieces. '' 

"  You  seem  to  know  me,  sir,^^  said  Peveril ;  ''and  if  so,  I 
think  I  may  fairly  ask  you  your  purpose  in  thus  bearing  me 
company,  and  the  meaning  of  all  this  rhapsody.  If  it  be 
mere  banter,  I  can  endure  it  within  proper  limit,  although 
it  is  uncivil  on  the  part  of  a  stranger.  If  you  have  any 
farther  purpose,  speak  it  out ;  I  am  not  to  be  trifled  with.'' 

'*  Good,  now,''  said  the  stranger,  laughing  ;  "  into  what 
an  unprofitable  chafe  you  have  put  yourself  !  An  Italian 
fuoruscito,  when  he  desires  a  parley  with  you,  takes  aim 
from  behind  a  wall  with  his  long  gun,  and  prefaces  his  con- 
ference with  *  Posso  tirare.'  So  does  your  man-of-war  fire 
a  gun  across  the  bows  of  a  Hans-mogan  Indiaman,  just  to 
bring  her  to  ;  and  so  do  I  show  Master  Julian  Peveril  that, 
if  I  were  one  of  the  honorable  society  of  witnesses  and  in- 
formers, with  whom  his  imagination  has  associated  me  for 
these  two  hours  past,  he  is  as  much  within  my  danger  now 
as  what  he  is  ever  likely  to  be."  Then  suddenly  changing 
his  tone  to  serious,  which  was  in  general  ironical,  he  added, 
''  Young  man,  when  the  pestilence  is  diffused  through  the  air 
of  a  city,  it  is  in  vain  men  would  avoid  the  disease  by  seeking 
solitude  and  shunning  the  company  of  their  fellow-sufferers." 

"  In  what,  then,  consists  their  safety  ? "  said  Peveril, 
willing  to  ascertain,  if  possible,  the  drift  of  his  companion's 
purpose. 

"In  following  the  counsels  of  wise  physicians" ;  such  was 
the  stranger's  answer. 

'*  And  as  such,"  said  Peveril,  ''  you  offer  me  your  advice  ?  " 

''Pardon  me,  young  man,"  said  the  stranger,  haughtily, 
"I  see  no  reason  I  should  do  so.  I  am  not,"  he  added,  in 
his  former  tone,  "  your  fee'd  physician.  I  offer  no  advice  ; 
I  only  say  it  would  be  wise  that  you  sought  it." 


U4  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

"  And  from  whom  or  where  can  I  obtain  it  ?"  said  Peveril. 
"  I  wander  in  this  country  like  one  in  a  dream  ;  so  much  a 
few  months  have  changed  it.  Men  who  formerly  occupied 
themselves  with  their  own  affairs  are  now  swallowed  up  in 
matters  of  state  policy ;  and  those  tremble  under  the  ap- 
prehension of  some  strange  and  sudden  convulsion  of  empire 
who  were  formerly  only  occupied  by  the  fear  of  going  to  bed 
supperless.  And  to  sum  up  the  matter,  I  meet  a  stranger, 
apparently  well  acquainted  with  my  name  and  concerns,  who 
first  attaches  himself  to  me  whether  I  will  or  no,  and  then 
refuses  me  an  explanation  of  his  business,  while  he  menaces 
me  with  the  strangest  accusations/' 

*^Had  I  meant  such  infamy, ''  said  the  stranger,  '^believe 
me,  I  had  not  given  you  the  thread  of  my  intrigue.  But  be 
wise,  and  come  on  with  me.  There  is  hard  by  a  small  inn, 
where,  if  you  can  take  a  stranger's  warrant  for  it,  we  shall 
sleep  in  perfect  security.'' 

''  Yet  you  yourself,"  said  Peveril,  ''  but  now  were  anxious 
to  avoid  observation  ;  and  in  that  case,  how  can  you  protect 


me 


V 


"  Pshaw  !  I  did  but  silence  that  tattling  landlady,  in  the 
way  in  which  such  people  are  most  readily  hushed  ;  and  for 
Topham  and  his  brace  of  night-owls,  they  must  hawk  at 
other  and  lesser  game  than  I  should  prove." 

Peveril  could  not  help  admiring  the  easy  and  confident 
indifference  with  which  the  stranger  seemed  to  assume  a 
superiority  to  all  the  circumstances  of  danger  around  him  ; 
and  after  hastily  considering  the  matter  with  himself,  came 
to  the  resolution  to  keep  company  with  him  for  this  night, 
at  least ;  and  to  learn,  if  possible,  who  he  really  was,  and  to 
what  party  in  the  estate  he  was  attached.  The  boldness  and 
freedom  of  his  talk  seemed  almost  inconsistent  with  his  fol- 
lowing the  perilous,  though  at  that  time  the  gainful,  trade 
of  an  informer.  No  doubt,  such  persons  assumed  every 
appearance  which  could  insinuate  them  into  the  confidence 
of  their  destined  victims  ;  but  Julian  thought  he  discovered 
in  this  man's  manner  a  wild  and  reckless  frankness,  which 
he  could  not  but  connect  with  the  idea  of  sincerity  in  the 
present  case.  He  therefore  answered,  after  a  moment's 
recollection,  ''I  embrace  your  proposal,  sir;  although,  by 
doing  so,  I  am  reposing  a  sudden,  and  perhaps  an  unwary, 
confidence." 

*'  And  what  am  I,  then,  reposing  in  you  ? "  said  the 
stranger.     "  Is  not  our  confidence  mutual  ?" 

"No  ;  much  the  contrary.     I  know  nothing  of  you  what- 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  245 

ever ;  you  have  named  me  ;  and,  knowing  me  to  be  Julian 
Peveril,  know  you  may  travel  with  me  in  perfect  security/' 

''  The  devil  I  do  !  "*'  answered  his  companion.  *'  I  travel 
in  the  same  security  as  with  a  lighted  petard,  which  I  may 
expect  to  explode  every  moment.  Are  you  not  the  son  of 
Peveril  of  the  Peak,  with  whose  name  Prelacy  and  Popery 
are  so  closely  allied,  that  no  old  woman  of  either  sex  in 
Derbyshire  concludes  her  prayer  without  a  petition  to  be 
freed  from  all  three  ?  And  do  you  not  come  from  the 
Popish  Countess  of  Derby,  bringing,  for  aught  I  know, 
a  whole  army  of  Manxmen  in  your  pocket,  with  full  com- 
plement of  arms,  ammunition,  baggage,  and  a  train  of  field 
artillery?'* 

*^  It  is  not  very  likely  I  should  be  so  poorly  mounted,''  said 
Julian,  laughing,  ^'if  I  had  such  a  weight  to  carry.  But 
lead  on,  sir.  I  see  I  must  wait  for  your  confidence  till  you 
think  proper  to  confer  it ;  for  you  are  already  so  well  ac- 
quainted with  my  ailairs,  that  I  have  nothing  to  offer  you  in 
exchange  for  it.' 

^' Allons,  then,"  said  his  companion;  '^give  your  horse 
the  spur,  and  raise  the  curb  rein,  lest  he  measure  the  ground 
with  his  nose,  instead  of  his  paces.  We  are  not  now  more 
than  a  furlong  or  two  from  the  place  of  entertainment." 

They  mended  their  pace  accordingly,  and  soon  arrived  at 
the  small  solitary  inn  which  the  traveler  had  mentioned. 
When  its  light  began  to  twinkle  before  them,  the  stranger, 
as  if  recollecting  something  he  had  forgotten,  '^  By  the  wa(y, 
you  must  have  a  name  to  pass  by  ;  for  it  may  be  ill  traveling 
under  your  own,  as  the  fellow  who  keeps  this  house  is  an 
old  Oromwellian.  What  will  you  call  yourself  ?  My  name 
is — for  the  present — Ganlesse." 

"  There  is  no  occasion  to  assume  a  name  at  all,"  an- 
swered Julian.  ''1  do  not  incline  to  use  a  borrowed  one, 
especially  as  I  may  meet  with  some  one  who  knows  my  own." 

'*!  will  call  you  Julian,  then,"  said  Master  Ganlesse; 
*'for  Peveril  will  smell,  in  the  nostrils  of  mine  host,  of  idola- 
try, conspiracy,  Smithfield  fagots,  fish  on  Fridays,  the  mur- 
der of  Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey,  and  the  fire  of  purgatory." 

As  he  spoke  thus,  they  alighted  under  the  great  broad- 
branched  oak-tree  that  served  to  canopy  the  ale-bench, 
which,  at  an  earlier  hour,  nad  groaned  under  the  weight  of 
a  frequent  conclave  of  rustic  politicians.  Ganlesse.*  as  he 
dismounted,  whistled  in  a  particularly  shrill  note,  and  wa« 
answered  from  within  the  house. 

♦See  Note  19. 


I 


CHAPTER  XXII 

He  was  a  fellow  in  a  peasant's  garb ; 

Yet  one  could  censure  you  a  woodcock's  carving, 

Like  any  courtier  at  the  ordinary. 

The  Ordinary. 

The  person  who  appeared  at  the  door  of  the  little  inn  to 
receive  Ganlesse,  as  we  mentioned  in  our  last  chapter,  sung 
as  he  came  forward  this  scrap  of  an  old  ballad — 

"  Good  even  to  you,  Diccon  ; 
And  how  have  you  sped? 
Bring  you  the  bonny  bride 
To  banquet  and  bed  ?  " 

To  which  Ganlesse,  answered  in  the  same  tone  and  tnne — 

"  Content  thee,  kind  Robin  ; 
He  need  little  care. 
Who  brings  home  a  fat  buck 
Instead  of  a  hare." 

*'  Y  ou  have  missed  your  blow,  then  ?  *'  said  the  other,  in 
reply. 

"I  tell  you,  I  have  not,'' answered  Ganlesse;  "but  von 
will  think  of  nought  but  your  own  thriving  occupation. 
May  the  plague  that  belongs  to  it  stick  to  it,  though  it  hath 
been  the  making  of  thee.'' 

*' A  man  must  live,  Diccon  Ganlesse,".  said  the  other. 

"  Well — well,"  said  Ganlesse,  ''  bid  my  friend  welcome, 
for  my  sake.     Hast  thou  got  any  supper  ?  " 

"  Reeking  like  a  sacrifice  ;  Chaubert  has  done  his  best. 
That  fellow  is  a  treasure  !  give  him  a  farthing  candle,  and 
he  will  cook  a  good  supper  out  of  it.  Come  in,  sir.  My 
friend's  friend  is  welcome,  as  we  say  in  my  country." 

*'We  must  have  our  horses  looked  to  first,"  said  Peveril, 
who  began  to  be  considerably  uncertain  about  the  character 
of  his  companions  ;  "that  done,  I  am  for  you." 

Ganlesse  gave  a  second  whistle ;  a  groom  appeared,  who 
took  charge  of  both  their  horses,  and  they  themselves 
entered  the  inn. 

24a 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  247 

The  ordinary  room  of  a  poor  inn  seemed  to  have  under- 
gone some  alterations,  to  render  it  fit  for  company  of  a 
higher  description.  There  were  a  beaufet,  a  couch,  and  one 
or  two  other  pieces  of  furniture,  of  a  style  inconsistent  with 
the  appearance  of  the  place.  The  tablecloth,  which  was 
ready  laid,  was  of  the  finest  damask  ;  and  the  spoons,  forks, 
etc.,  were  of  silver.  Peveril  looked  at  this  apparatus  with 
some  surprise ;  and  again  turning  his  eyes  attentively  upon 
his  traveling-companion  Ganlesse,  he  could  not  help  discover- 
ing (by  the  aid  of  imagination,  perhaps)  that,  though  in- 
significant in  person,  plain  in  features,  and  dressed  like  one 
in  indigence,  there  lurked  still  about  his  person  and  man- 
ners that  indefinable  ease  of  manner  which  belongs  only  to 
men  of  birth  and  quality,  or  to  those  who  are  in  the  con- 
stant habit  of  frequenting  the  best  company.  His  com- 
panion, whom  he  called  Will  Smith,  although  tall  and 
rather  good-looking,  besides  being  much  better  dressed,  had 
not,  nevertheless,  exactly  the  same  ease  of  demeanor,  and 
was  obliged  to  make  up  for  the  want  by  an  additional  pro- 
portion of  assurance.  Who  these  two  persons  could  be, 
Peveril  could  not  attempt  even  to  form  a  guess.  There 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  watch  their  manner  and  conver- 
sation. 

After  speaking  a  moment  in  whispers.  Smith  said  to  his 
companion,  "  We  must  go  look  after  our  nags  for  ten  min- 
utes, and  allow  Chaubert  to  do  his  office."' 

"  Will  he  not  appear  and  minister  before  us,  then  ? ''  said 
Ganlesse. 

'*  What,  he  ! — he  shift  a  trencher — he  hand  a  cup  !  No, 
you  forget  whom  you  speak  of.  Such  an  order  were  enough 
to  make  him  fall  on  his  own  sword  ;  he  is  already  on  the 
borders  of  despair,  because  no  craw-fish  are  to  be  had.'' 

''  Alack-a-day  ! "  replied  Ganlesse.  ''  Heaven  forbid  1 
should  add  to  such  a  calamity  !  To  stable,  then,  and  see  we 
how  our  steeds  eat  their  provender,  while  ours  is  getting 
ready." 

They  adjourned  to  the  stable  accordingly,  which,  though 
a  poor  one,  had  been  hastily  supplied  with  whatever  was 
necessary  for  the  accommodation  of  four  excellent  horses  ; 
one  of  which,  that  from  which  Ganlesse  was  just  dismounted, 
the  groom  we  have  mentioned  was  cleaning  and  dressing  by 
the  light  of  a  huge  wax  candle." 

''  I  am  still  so  far  Catholic,"  said  Ganlesse,  laughing,  as  he 
saw  that  Peveril  noticed  this  piece  of  extravagance,  *^My 
horse  is  my  saint,  and  I  dedicate  a  candle  to  him." 


248  WAVERLUY  NOVELS 

*'  Without  asking  so  great  a  favor  for  mine,  which  1  see 
standing  behind  yonder  old  hen-coop/'  replied  Peveril,  '*  I 
will  at  least  relieve  him  of  his  saddle  and  bridle/' 

"Leave  him  to  the  lad  of  the  inn/'  said  Smith ;  "he  is 
not  worthy  any  other  person's  handling  ;  and  I  promise  you, 
if  you  slip  a  single  buckle,  you  will  so  flavor  of  that  stable 
duty  that  you  might  as  well  eat  roast-beef  as  ragouts,  for 
any  relish  you  will  have  of  them/' 

"  I  love  roast-beef  as  well  as  ragouts  at^  any  time,"  said 
Peveril,  adjusting  himself  to  a  task  which  every  young  man 
should  know  how  to  perform  when  need  is  ;  "  and  my  horse, 
though  it  be  but  a  sorry  jade,  will  champ  better  on  hay  and 
corn  than  on  an  iron  bit." 

While  he  was  unsaddling  his  horse  and  shaking  down 
some  litter  for  the  poor  wearied  animal,  he  heard  Smith  ob- 
serve to  Ganlesse — "  By  my  faith,  Dick,  thou  hast  fallen 
into  poor  Slender's  blunder  ;  missed  Anne  Page  and  brought 
us  a  great  lubberly  postmaster's  boy/' 

"Hush  !  he  will  hear  thee,"  answered  Ganlesse;  "there 
are  reasons  for  all  things — it  is  well  as  it  is.  But,  prithee, 
tell  thy  fellow  to  help  the  youngster." 

"What  !"  replied  Smith,  "d'ye  think  I  am  mad  ?  Ask 
Tom  Beacon — Tom  of  Newmarket — Tom  of  ten  thousand, 
to  touch  such  a  four-legged  brute  as  that  ?  Why,  he  would 
turn  me  away  on  the  spot — discard  me,  i'  faith.  It  was  all 
he  would  do  to  take  in  hand  your  own,  my  good  friend  ;  and 
if  you  consider  him  not  the  better,  you  are  like  to  stand 
groom  to  him  yourself  to-morrow/' 

"  Well,  Will,"  answered  Ganlesse,  "  I  will  say  that  for 
thee,  thou  hast  a  set  of  the  most  useless,  scoundrelly,  in- 
solent vermin  about  thee  that  ever  eat  up  a  poor  gentleman's 
revenues/' 

"Useless!  I  deny  it,"  replied  Smith.  "Every  one  of 
my  fellows  does  something  or  other  so  exquisitely  that  it 
were  sin  to  make  him  do  anything  else  ;  it  is  your  jacks-of- 
all- trades  who  are  masters  of  none.  But  hark  to  Chaubert's 
signal !  The  coxcomb  is  twangling  it  on  the  lute,  to  the 
tune  of  Eveillez-vous,  belle  endormie.  Come,  Master  What- 
d'eye-Call  (addressing  Peveril),  "get  ye  some  water  and 
wash  this  filthy  witness  from  your  hand,"  as  Betterton  says 
in  the  play  ;  for  Chaubert's  cookery  is  like  Friar  Bacon's 
head — time  is — time  was — time  will  soon  be  no  more." 

So  saying,  and  scarce  allowing  Julian  time  to  dip  his  hands 
in  a  bucket  and  dry  them  on  a  horse-cloth,  he  hurried  him 
from  the  stable  back  to  the  supper-chamber. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  940 

Here  all  was  prepared  for  their  meal  with  an  epicurean 
delicacy  which  rather  belonged  to  the  saloon  of  a  palace  than 
the  cabin  in  which  it  was  displayed.  Four  dishes  of  silver, 
with  covers  of  the  same  metal,  smoked  on  the  table  ;  and 
three  seats  were  placed  for  the  company.  Beside  the  lower 
end  of  the  board  was  a  small  side-table,  to  answer  the  pur- 
pose of  what  is  now  called  a  dumb  waiter  ;  on  which  several 
flasks  reared  their  tall,  stately,  and  swan-like  crests,  above 
glasses  and  rummers.  Clean  covers  were  also  placed  within 
reach ;  and  a  small  traveling-case  of  morocco,  hooped  with 
silver,  displayed  a  number  of  bottles,  containing  the  most 
approved  sauces  that  culinary  ingenuity  had  then  invented. 

Smith,  who  occupied  the  lower  seat,  and  seemed  to  act  as 
president  of  the  feast,  motioned  the  two  travelers  to  take 
their  places  and  begin.  *'  I  would  not  stay  a  grace-time, '^ 
he  said,  '^  to  save  a  whole  nation  from  perdition.  We  could 
bring  no  chauft'ettes  with  any  convenience,  and  even  Chau- 
bert  is  nothing  unless  his  dishes  are  tasted  in  the  very  mo- 
ment of  projection.  Come,  uncover  and  let  us  see  what  he 
has  done  for  us.  Hum  ! — ha  !— ay — squab  pigeons — wild- 
fowl— young  chickens — venison  cutlets — and  a  space  in  the 
center,  wet,  alas  !  by  a  gentle  tear  from  Chaubert^s  eye, 
where  should  have  been  the  soupe  aux  ecrivisses.  The  zeal 
of  that  poor  fellow  is  ill  repaid  by  his  paltry  ten  louis  per 
month.^' 

'^  A  mere  trifle, '*  said  Ganlesse  ;  ''but,  like  yourself.  Will, 
he  serves  a  generous  master.'' 

The  repast  now  commenced  ;  and  Julian,  though  he  had 
seen  his  young  friend  the  Earl  of  Derby  and  other  gallants 
affect  a  considerable  degree  of  interest  and  skill  in  the  science 
of  the  kitchen,  and  was  not  himself  either  an  enemy  or  a 
stranger  to  the  pleasures  of  a  good  table,  found  that,  on  the 
present  occasion,  he  was  a  mere  novice.  Both  his  compan- 
ions, but  Smith  in  especial,  seemed  to  consider  that  they 
were  now  engaged  in  the  only  true  and  real  business  of  life, 
and  weighed  all  its  minutiae  with  a  proportional  degree  of 
accuracy.  To  carve  the  morsel  in  the  most  delicate  manner, 
and  to  apportion  the  proper  seasoning  with  the  accuracy  of 
the  chemist ;  to  be  aware,  exactly,  of  the  order  in  which 
one  dish  should  succeed  another,  and  to  do  plentiful  -justice 
to  all — was  a  minuteness  of  science  to  which  Julian  had 
hitherto  been  a  stranger.  Smith  accordingly  treated  him 
as  a  mere  novice  in  epicurism,  cautioning  him  "  to  eat  hi* 
soup  before  the  bouilli,  and  to  forget  the  Manx  custom  of 
bolting  the  boiled  meat  J)efore  the  broth,  as  if  Cutlar  Mac- 


260  WAYERLET  NOVELS 

Culloch  *  and  all  his  whingers  were  at  the  door.  Peveril 
took  the  hint  in  good  part,  and  the  entertainment  proceeded 
with  animation. 

At  length  Ganlisse  paused,  and  declared  the  supper  ex- 
quisite. ''  But,  my  friend  Smith,^'  he  added,  '^  are  your 
wines  curious  ?  When  you  brought  all  that  trash  of  plates 
and  trumpery  into  Derbyshire,  I  hope  you  did  not  leave  us 
at  the  mercy  of  the  strong  ale  of  the  shire,  as  thick  and 
muddy  as  the  squires  who  drink  it  ?  " 

*'  Did  I  not  know  that  you  were  to  meet  me,  Dick  Gan- 
lesse  ?  "  answered  their  host,  ''  and  can  you  suspect  me  of 
such  an  omission  ?  It  is  true,  you  must  make  champagne 
and  claret  serve,  for  my  burgundy  would  not  bear  traveling. 
But  if  you  have  a  fancy  for  sherry  or  Yin -de  Cahors,  I  have 
a  notion  Chaubert  and  Tom  Beacon  have  brought  some  for 
their  own  drinking. *' 

'^  Perhaps  the  gentlemen  would  not  care  to  impart,"  said 
Ganlesse. 

"  0  fie  !  anything  in  the  way  of  civility,"  replied  Smith. 
"  They  are,  in  truth,  the  best-natured  lads  alive,  when  treated 
respectfully  ;  so  that  if  you  would  prefer " 

''By  no  means,"  said  Ganlesse — " a  glass  of  champagne 
will  serve  in  a  scarcity  of  better." 

**  The  cork  shall  start  obsequious  to  my  thumb," 

said  Smith  ;  and  as  he  spoke,  he  untwisted  the  wire,  and  the 
cork  struck  the  roof  of  the  cabin.  Each  guest  took  a  large 
rummer  glsss  of  the  sparkling  beverage,  which  Pelveril  had 
judgment  and  experience  enough  to  pronounce  exquisite. 

"Give  me  your  hand,  sir,"  said  Smith ;  ''it  is  the  first 
word  of  sense  you  have  spoken  this  evening." 

"  Wisdom,  sir,"  replied  Peveril,  "  is  like  the  best  ware  in 
the  peddler's  pack,  which  he  never  produces  till  he  knows  his 
customer." 

"  Sharp  as  mustard,"  returned  the  hon  vivant ;  "  but  be 
wise,  most  noble  peddler,  and  take  another  rummer  of  this 
same  flask,  which  you  see  I  have  held  in  a  oblique  position 
for  your  service,  not  permitting  it  to  retrograde  to  the  per- 
pendicular. Nay,  take  it  off  before  the  bubble  bursts  on 
the  rim  and  the  zest  is  gone." 

"  You  do  me  honor,  sir,"  said  Peveril,  taking  the  second 
glass.  "  I  wish  you  a  better  office  than  that  of  my  cup- 
bearer." 

♦See  Note 20.      -^  l'^'^^^'^^  ^^^  v^*^:-: 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  251 

"  You  cannot  wish  Will  Smith  one  more  congenial  to  his 
nature/'  said  Ganlesse.  *^  Others  have  a  selfish  delight  in 
the  objects  of  sense.  Will  thrives,  and  is  happy,  by  impart- 
ing them  to  his  friends." 

'^  Better  help  men  to  pleasures  than  to  pains.  Master  Gan- 
lesse/'  answered  Smith,  somewhat  angrily. 

^'  Nay,  wrath  thee  not.  Will,''  said  Ganlesse  ;  "  and  speak 
no  words  in  haste,  lest  you.  may  have  cause  to  repent  at  lei- 
sure. Do  I  blame  thy  social  concern  for  the  pleasures  of 
others  ?  Why,  man,  thou  dost  therein  most  philosophically 
multiply  thine  own.  A  man  has  but  one  throat,  and  can 
but  eat,  with  his  best  efforts,  some  five  or  six  times  a-day ; 
but  thou  dinest  with  every  friend  that  cuts  up  a  capon,  and 
art  quaffiing  wine  in  other  men's  gullets  from  morning  to 
night — et  sic  de  cmteris" 

'' Friend  Ganlesse,"  returned  Smith,  '^I  prithee  be- 
ware ;  thou  knowest  I  can  cut  gullets  as  well  as  tickle 
them." 

"Ay,  Will,"  answered  Ganlesse,  carelessly;  ''I  think  I 
have  seen  thee  wave  thy  whinyard  at  the  throat  of  a  Hogan- 
mogan — a  Netherlandish  weasand,  which  expanded  only  on 
thy  natural  and  mortal  objects  of  aversion — Dutch  cheese, 
rye-bread,  pickled  herring,  onions,  and  Geneva." 

"  For  pity's  sake,  forbear  the  description  !  "  said  Smith  ; 
"thy  words  overpower  the  perfumes,  and  flavor  the  apart- 
ment like  a  dish  of  salmagundi  !  " 

"  But  for  an  epiglottis  like  mine,"  continued  Ganlesse, 
"  down  which  the  most  delicate  morsels  are  washed  by  such 
claret  as  thou  art  now  pouring  out,  thou  couldst  not,  in  thy 
bitterest  mood,  wish  a  worse  fate  than  to  be  necklaced  some- 
what tight  by  a  pair  of  white  arms." 

"  By  a  tenpenny  cord,"  answered  Smith ;  "  but  not  till 
you  were  dead  ;  that  thereafter  you  be  presently  embowelled, 
you  being  yet  alive  ;  that  your  head  be  than  severed  from 
your  body,  and  your  body  divided  into  quarters,  to  be  disposed 
of  at  his  Majesty's  pleasure.  How  like  you  that.  Master 
Eichard  Ganlesse  ?  " 

"  E'en  as  you  like  the  thoughts  of  dining  on  bran-bread 
and  milk-porridge — an  extremity  which  you  trust  never  to 
be  reduced  to.  But  all  this  shall  not  prevent  me  from 
pledging  you  in  a  cup  of  sound  claret." 

As  the  claret  circulated,  the  glee  of  the  company  increased  ; 
and  Smith,  placing  the  dishes  which  had  been  made  use  of 
upon  the  side-table,  stamped  with  his  foot  on  the  floor,  and 
the  table  sinking  down  a  trap,  again  rose,  loaded  with  olives. 


262  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sliced  neat's  tongue,  caviare,  and  other  provocatives  for  the 
circulation  of  the  bottle. 

*'Why,  Will,''  said  Ganlesse,  ''thou  art  a  more  complete 
mechanist  than  I  suspected  ;  thou  hast  brought  thy  scene- 
shifting  inventions  to  Derbyshire  in  marvelously  short  time." 

''  A  rope  and  pulleys  can  easily  come  by,"  answered  Will  ; 
''and  with  a  saw  and  a  plane,  I  can  manage  that  business  in 
half  a  day.  I  love  that  knack  of  clean  and  secret  convey- 
ance ;  thou  knowest  it  was  the  foundation  of  my  fortunes." 

"It  may  be  the  wreck  of  them  too.  Will,"  replied  his ^ 
friend. 

"True,  Diccon,"  answered  Will;  "but  dum  vivimus 
vivamus — that  is  my  motto  ;  and  therewith  I  present  you  a 
brimmer  to  the  health  of  the  fair  lady  you  wot  of." 

"  Let  it  come.  Will,"  replied  his  friend  ;  and  the  flask 
circulated  briskly  from  hand  to  hand. 

Julian  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  seem  a  check  on  their 
festivity,  as  he  hoped  in  its  progress  something  might  occur 
to  enable  him  to  judge  of  the  character  and  purposes  of  his 
companions.  But  he  watched  them  in  vain.  Their  con- 
versation was  animated  and  lively,  and  often  bore  reference 
to  the  literature  of  the  period,  in  which  the  elder  seemed 
particularly  well  skilled.  They  also  talked  freely  of  the 
court,  and  of  that  numerous  class  of  gallants  who  were  then 
described  as  "  men  of  wit  and  pleasure  about  town  ;  and 
to  which  it  seemed  probable  they  themselves  appertained." 

At  length  the  universal  topic  of  the  Popish  Plot  was  startled, 
upon  which  Ganlesse  and  Smith  seemed  to  entertain  the 
most  opposite  opinions.  Ganlesse,  if  he  did  not  maintain  the 
authority  of  Gates  in  its  utmost  extent,  contended  that  at 
least  it  was  confirmed  in  a  great  measure  by  the  murder  of 
Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey,  and  the  letters  written  by  Cole- 
man *  to  the  confessor  of  the  French  king. 

With  much  more  noise  and  less  power  of  reasoning.  Will 
Smith  hesitated  not  to  ridicule  and  run  down  the  whole  dis- 
covery, as  one  of  the  wildest  and  most  causeless  alarms  which 
had  ever  been  sounded  in  the  ears  of  a  credulous  public.  "I 
shall  never  forget,"  he  said,  "  Sir  Geoffrey's  most  original 
funeral.  Two  bouncing  parsons,  well  armed  with  sword  and 
pistol,  mounted  the  pulpit  to  secure  the  third  fellow  who 
preached  from  being  murdered  in  the  face  of  the  congrega- 
tion. Three  parsons  in  one  pulpit — three  suns  in  one  hemis- 
phere— no  wonder  men  stood  aghast  at  such  a  prodigy."  * 

*  See  Note  21. 
f  See  Funeral  Service  of  Sir  Edmondsbury  Geoffrey.  Note  22. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  353 

''What  then,  Will,"  answered  his  companion,  ''you  are 
one  of  those  who  think  the  good  knight  murdered  himself, 
in  order  to  give  credit  to  the  Plot  ?  " 

"  By  my  faith,  not  I,"  said  the  other;  "  but  some  true 
blue  Protestant  might  do  the  job  for  him,  in  order  to  give 
the  thing  a  better  color.  I  will  be  judged  by  our  silent 
friend  whether  that  be  not  the  most  feasible  solution  of  the 
whole." 

"^  I  pray  you,  pardon  me,  gentleman,"  said  Julian;  "I 
urn  but  just  landed  in  England,  and  am  a  stranger  to  the 
particular  circumstances  which  have  thrown  the  nation  into 
such  ferment.  It  would  be  the  highest  degree  of  assurance 
in  me  to  give  my  opinion  betwixt  gentlemen  who  argue  the 
matter  so  ably ;  besides,  to  say  truth,  I  confess  weariness  ; 
your  wine  is  more  potent  than  I  expected,  or  I  have  drunk 
more  of  it  than  I  meant  to  do." 

'^Nay,  if  an  hour's  nap  will  refresh  you,"  said  the  elder  of 
the  strangers,  ''  make  no  ceremony  with  us.  Your  bed — all 
we  can  offer  as  such — is  that  old-fashioned  Dutch-built 
sofa,  as  the  last  new  phrase  calls  it.  We  shall  be  early  stirrers 
to-morrow  morning." 

''  iind  that  we  may  be  so,"  said  Smith,  "  I  propose  that 
we  do  sit  up  all  this  night.  I  hate  lying  rough,  and  detest 
a  pallet-bed,  so  have  at  another  flask,  and  the  newest  lam- 
poon to  help  it  out — 

Now  the  plague  of  their  votes 
Upon  Papists  and  plots, 
And  be  d — d  Doctor  Oates  I 

Tol  de  rol.** 

"  Nay,  but  our  Puritanic  host,"  said  Ganlesse. 

"  I  have  him  in  my  pocket,  man  :  his  eyes,  ears,  nose, 
and  tongue,"  answered  his  boon  companion,  "are  all  in 
my  possession." 

''  In  that  case,  when  you  give  him  back  his  eyes  and  nose; 
I  pray  you  keep  his  ears  and  tongue,"  answered  Ganlesse. 
'*  Seeing  and  smelling  are  organs  sufficient  for  such  a  knave  ; 
to  hear  and  tell  are  things  he  should  have  no  manner  of  pre- 
tensions to." 

"  I  grant  you  it  were  well  done,"  answered  Smith  ;  "  but 
it  were  a  robbing  of  the  hangman  and  the  pillory  ;  and  I  am 
an  honest  fellow,  who  would  give  Dun  *  and  the  devil  his 
due.     So, 

*  See  Dun  the  Hangman.    Note  22. 


i 


254  WAVERLWJ  J^OVELS 


All  joy  to  great  Caesar, 
Long  life,  love,  and  pleasure ; 
May  the  King  live  forever  ! 

'Tis  no  matter  for  us,  boys. 

"While  this  Bacchanalian  scene  proceeded,  Julian  had 
wrapped  himself  closely  in  his  cloak  and  stretched  himself  on 
the  couch  which  they  had  shown  to  him.  He  looked  towards 
the  table  he  had  left ;  the  tapers  seemed  to  become  hazy  and 
dim  as  he  gazed  ;  he  heard  the  sound  of  voices,  but  they 
ceased  to  convey  any  impression  to  his  understanding  ;  and 
in  a  few  minutes  he  was  faster  asleep  than  he  had  ever  been 
in  the  whole  course  of  his  life. 


CHAPTER  XXm 

The  Gordon  then  his  bugle  blew, 

And  said,  "  Awa,  awa  ; 
The  House  of  Rhodes  is  all  on  flame, 

I  hauld  it  time  to  ga'." 

Old  Bf»llad. 

When"  Julian  awakened  the  next  morning,  all  was  still  and 
vacant  in  the  apartment.  The  rising  sun,  which  shone 
through  the  half -closed  shutters,  showed  some  relics  of  the 
last  night^s  banquet,  which  his  confused  and  throbbing  head 
assured  him  had  been  carried  into  a  debauch. 

Without  being  much  of  a  boon  companion,  Julian,  like 
other  young  men  of  the  time,  was  not  in  the  habit  of  shun- 
ning wine,  which  was  then  used  in  considerable  quantities  ; 
and  he  could  not  help  being  surprised  that  the  few  cups  he 
had  drunk  over  night  had  produced  on  his  frame  the  effects 
of  excess.  He  rose  up,  adjusted  his  dress,  and  sought  in  the 
apartment  for  water  to  perform  his  morning  ablutions,  but 
without  success.  Wine  there  was  on  the  table  ;  and  beside 
it  one  stool  stood  and  another  lay,  as  if  thrown  down  in  the 
heedless  riot  of  the  evening.  **  Surely, '^  he  thought  to  him- 
self, '*■  the  wine  must  have  been  very  powerful  which 
rendered  me  insensible  to  the  noise  my  companions  must 
have  made  ere  they  finished  their  carouse." 

With  momentary  suspicions,  he  examined  his  weapos,  and 
the  packet  which  he  had  received  from  the  countess,  and 
kept  in  a  secret  pocket  of  his  upper  coat,  bound  close  about 
his  person.  All  was  safe  ;  and  the  very  operation  reminded 
him  of  the  duties  which  lay  before  him.  He  left  the  apart- 
ment where  they  had  supped  and  went  into  another,  wretched 
enough,  where,  in  a  truckle-bed,  were  stretched  two  bodies, 
covered  with  a  rug,  the  heads  belonging  to  which  were  ami- 
cably deposited  upon  the  same  truss  of  hay.  The  one  was 
the  black  shock-head  of  the  groom  ;  the  other,  graced  with 
a  long  thrum  night-cap,  showed  a  grizzled  pate,  and  a  grave 
caricatured  countenance,  which  the  hook-nose  and  lantern- 
jaws  proclaimed  to  belong  to  the  Gallic  minister  of  good 
cheer  whose  praises  he  had  heard  sung  forth  on  the  preced- 
ing evening.     These  worthies   seemed  to  have   slumbered 

256 


I 


iio6  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

arms  of  Bacchus  as  well  as  of  Morplieus,  for  there  were 
broken  flasks  on  the  floor ;  and  their  deep  snoring  alone 
showed  that  they  were  alive. 

Bent  upon  resuming  his  journey,  as  duty  and  expedience 
alike  dictated,  Julian  next  descended  the  trap-stair  and  es- 
sayed a  door  at  the  bottom  of  the  steps.  It  was  fastened 
within.  He  called  ;  no  answer  was  returned.  It  must  be, 
he  thought,  the  apartment  of  the  revelers,  now  probably 
sleeping  as  soundly  as  their  dependants  still  slumbered,  and 
as  he  himself  had  done  a  few  minutes  before.  Should  he 
awake  them  ?  To  what  purpose  ?  They  were  men  with 
whom  accident  had  involved  him  against  his  own  will  ;  and, 
situated  as  he  was,  he  thought  it  wise  to  take  the  earliest  op- 
portunity of  breaking  off  from  society  which  was  suspicious, 
and  might  be  perilous.  Euminating  thus,  he  essayed  another 
door,  which  admitted  him  to  a  bedroom,  where  lay  another 
harmonious  slumberer.  The  mean  utensils,  pewter  measures, 
empty  cans  and  casks,  with  which  this  room  was  lumbered, 
proclaimed  it  that  of  the  host,  who  slept  surrounded  by  his 
professional  implements  of  hospitality  and  stock-in-trade. 

This  discovery  relieved  Peveril  from  some  delicate  em- 
barrassment which  he  had  formerly  entertained.  He  put 
upon  the  table  a  piece  of  money,  sufficient,  as  he  judged,  to 
pay  his  share  of  the  preceding  night's  reckoning  ;  not  car- 
ing to  be  indebted  for  his  entertainment  to  the  strangers, 
whom  he  was  leaving  without  the  formality  of  an  adieu. 

His  conscience  cleared  of  this  gentlemaTilike  scruple,  Pev- 
eril proceeded  with  a  light  heart,  though  somewhat  a  dizzy 
head,  to  the  stable,  which  he  easily  recognized  among  a  few 
other  paltry  outhouses.  His  horse,  refreshed  with  rest,  and 
perhaps  not  unmindful  of  his  services  the  evening  before, 
neighed  as  his  master  entered  the  stable  ;  and  Peveril  ac- 
cepted the  sound  as  an  omen  of  a  prosperous  journey.  He 
paid  the  augury  with  a  sieveful  of  corn  ;  and,  while  his  pal- 
frey profited  by  his  attention,  walked  into  the  fresh  air  to 
cool  his  heated  blood,  and  consider  what  course  he  should 
pursue  in  order  to  reach  the  Castle  of  Martindale  before  sun- 
set. His  acquaintance  with  the  country  in  general  gave  him 
confidence  that  he  could  not  have  greatly  deviated  from  the 
nearest  road  ;  and  with  his  horse  in  good  condition,  he  con- 
ceived he  might  easily  reach  Martindale  before  nightfall. 

Having  adjusted  his  route  in  his  mind,  he  returned  into 
the  stable  to  prepare  his  steed  for  the  journey,  and  soon  led 
him  into  the  ruinous  courtyard  of  the  inn,  bridled,  saddled, 
and  ready  to  be  mounted.     But  as  Peverirs  hand  was  upon 


PEVEUtL  OF  THE  PEAK  257 

fche  mane  and  "his  left  foot  in  the  stirrup,  a  hand  touched 
his  cloak,  and  the  voice  of  Ganlesse  said,  ''  What,  Master 
Peveril,  is  this  your  foreign  breeding?  or  have  you  learned 
in  France  to  take  French  leave  of  your  friends  ?  " 

Julian  started  like  a  guilty  thiug,  although  a  moment's 
reflection  assured  him  that  he  was  neither  wrong  nor  in 
danger.  ^'  I  cared  not  to  disturb  you,''  he  said,  *'  although 
I  did  come  as  far  as  the  door  of  your  chamber.  I  supposed 
your  friend  and  you  might  require,  after  our  last  niglit's 
revel,  rather  sleep  than  ceremony.  I  left  my  own  bed, 
though  a  rough  one,  with  more  reluctance  than  usual ;  and 
as  my  occasions  oblige  me  to  be  an  early  traveler,  I  thought 
it  best  to  depart  without  leave-taking.  I  have  left  a  token 
for  mine  host   on  the  table  of  his  apartment." 

"It  was  unnecessary,"  said  Ganlesse  :  "the  rascal  is  al- 
ready overpaid.  But  are  you  not  rather  premature  in  your 
purpose  of  departing  ?  My  mind  tells  me  that  Master  Julian 
Peveril  had  better  proceed  with  me  to  London  than  turn 
aside  for  any  purpose  whatever.  You  may  see  already  that 
I  am  no  ordinary  person,  but  a  master-spirit  of  the  time. 
For  the  cuckoo  I  travel  with,  and  whom  I  indulge  in  his  pro- 
digal follies,  he  also  has  his  uses.  But  you  are  of  a  different 
cast ;  and  I  not  only  would  serve  you,  but  even  wish  you  to 
be  my  own." 

Julian  gazed  on  this  singular  person  when  he  spoke.  We 
have  already  said  his  figure  was  mean  and  slight,  with  very 
ordinary  and  unmarked  features,  unless  we  were  to  distin- 
guish the  lightnings  of  a  keen  gray  eye,  which  corresponded, 
in  its  careless  and  prideful  glance,  with  the  haughty  supe- 
riority which  the  stranger  assumed  in  his  conversation.  It 
was  not  till  after  a  momentary  pause  that  Julian  replied, 
"  Can  you  wonder,  sir,  that  in  my  circumstances — if  they 
arc  indeed  known  to  you  so  well  as  they  seem — I  should  de- 
cline unnecessary  confidence  on  the  affairs  of  moment  which 
have  called  me  hither,  or  refuse  the  company  of  a  stranger, 
who  assigns  no  reason  for  desiring  mine  ?  " 

"  Be  it  as  you  list,  young  man,"  answered  Ganlesse ; 
"only  remember  hereafter,  you  had  a  fair  offer;  it  is  not 
every  one  to  whom  I  would  have  made  it.  If  we  should 
meet  hereafter  on  other,  and  on  worse,  terms,  impute  it  to 
yourself,  and  not  to  me." 

"  I  understand  not  your  threat,"  answered  Peveril,  *'  if  a 
threat  be  indeed  implied.  I  have  done  no  evil — I  feel  no 
apprehension  ;  and  I  cannot,  in  common  sense,  conceive 
why  I  should  suffer  for  refusing  my  confidence  to  a  stranger. 


268  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

who  seems  to  require  that  I  should  submit  me  blindfold  to 
his  guidance." 

**  Farewell,  then.  Sir  Julian  of  the  Peak — that  may  soon 
be,''  said  the  stranger,  removing  the  hand  which  he  had  as 
yet  left  carelessly  on  the  horse's  bridle. 

'*  How  mean  you  by  that  phrase?"  said  Julian;  "and 
why  apply  such  a  title  to  me  ?  " 

The  stranger  smiled,  and  only  answered,  ''  Here  our  con- 
ference ends.  The  way  is  before  you.  You  will  find  it 
longer  and  rougher  than  that  by  which  I  would  have  guided 
you." 

So  saying,  Ganlesse  turned  his  back  and  walked  towards 
the  house.  On  the  threshold  he  turned  about  once  more, 
and  seeing  that  Peveril  had  not  yet  moved  from  the  spot, 
he  again  smiled  and  beckoned  to  him  ;  but  Julian,  recalled 
by  that  sign  to  recollection,  spurred  his  horse  and  set  for- 
ward on  his  journey. 

It  was  not  long  ere  his  local  acquaintance  with  the  country 
enbled  him  to  regain  the  road  to  Martindale,  from  which  he 
had  diverged  on  the  preceding  evening  for  about  two  miles. 
But  the  roads,  or  rather  the  paths,  of  this  wild  country,  so 
much  satirized  by  their  native  poet.  Cotton,  were  so  compli- 
cated in  some  places,  so  difficult  to  be  traced  in  others,  and 
so  unfit  for  hasty  traveling  in  almost  all,  that,  in  spite  of 
Julian's  utmost  exertions,  and  though  he  made  no  longer 
delay  upon  the  journey  than  was  necessary  to  bait  his  horse 
at  a  small  hamlet  through  which  he  passed  at  noon,  it  was 
nightfall  ere  he  reached  an  eminence  from  which  an  hour 
sooner  the  battlements  of  Martindale  Castle  would  have  been 
visible  ;  and  where,  when  they  were  hid  in  night,  their 
situation  was  indicated  by  a  light  constantly  maintained  in 
a  lofty  tower  called  the  Warder's  Turret,  and  which  do- 
mestic beacon  had  acquired  through  all  the  neighborhood 
the  name  of  Peveril's  Pole-star. 

This  was  regularly  kindled  at  curfew-toll,  and  supplied 
with  as  much  wood  and  charcoal  as  maintained  the  light  till 
sunrise ;  and  at  no  period  was  the  ceremonial  omitted  sav- 
ing during  the  space  intervening  between  the  death  of  a  lord 
of  the  castle  and  his  interment.  When  the  last  event  had 
taken  place,  the  nightly  beacon  was  rekindled  with  some 
ceremony,  and  continued  till,  fate  called  the  successor  to 
sleep  with  his  fathers.  It  is  not  known  from  what  circum- 
stances the  practise  of  maintaining  this  light  originally 
sprung.  Tradition  spoke  of  it  doubtfully.  Some  thought 
it  was  the  signal  of  general  hospitality,  which,  in  ancient 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  259 

times,  guided  the  wandering  knight  or  the  weary  pilgrim  to 
rest  and  refreshment.  Others  spoke  of  it  as  a  'Move-lighted 
watchfire,"  by  which  the  provident  anxiety  of  a  former  lady 
of  Martindale  guided  her  husband  homeward  through  the 
terrors  of  a  midnight  storm.  The  less  favorable  construc- 
tion of  unfriendly  neighbors  of  the  dissenting  persuasion 
ascribed  the  origin  and  continuance  of  this  practise  to  the 
assuming  pride  of  the  family  of  Peveril,  who  thereby  chose 
to  intimate  their  ancient  suzerainte  over  the  whole  country, 
in  the  manner  of  the  admiral,  who  carries  the  lantern  in  the 
poop,  for  the  guidance  of  the  fleet.  And  in  the  former 
times  our  old  friend.  Master  Solsgrace,  dealt  from  the  pulpit 
many  a  hard  hit  against  Sir  Geoffrey,  as  he  that  had  raised 
his  horn  and  set  up  his  candlestick  on  high.  Certain  it  is, 
that  all  the  Peverils,  from  father  to  son,  had  been  especially 
attentive  to  the  maintenance  of  this  custom,  as  something 
intimately  connected  with  the  dignity  of  their  family  ;  and 
in  the  hands  of  Sir  Geoffrey  the  observance  was  not  likely 
to  be  omitted. 

Accordingly,  the  polar  star  of  Peveril  had  continued  to 
beam  more  or  less  brightly  during  all  the  vicissitudes  of  the 
Civil  War  ;  and  glimmered,  however  faintly,  during  the 
subsequent  period  of  Sir  Geoffrey's  depression.  But  he  was 
often  heard  to  say,  and  sometimes  to  swear,  that,  while  there 
was  a  perch  of  woodland  left  to  the  estate,  the  old  beacon- 
grate  should  not  lack  replenishing.  All  this  his  son  Julian 
well  knew ;  and  therefore  it  was  with  no  ordinary  feelings 
of  surprise  and  anxiety  that,  looking  in  the  direction  of  the 
castle,  he  perceived  that  the  light  was  not  visible.  He 
halted,  rubbed  his  eyes,  shifted  his  position,  and  endeavored 
in  vain  to  persuade  himself  that  he  had  mistaken  the  point 
from  which  the  polar  star  of  his  house  was  visible,  or  that 
some  newly  intervening  obstacle — the  growth  of  a  planta- 
tion, perhaps,  or  the  erection  of  some  building — intercepted 
the  light  of  the  beacon.  But  a  moment's  reflection  assured 
him  that,  from  the  high  and  free  situation  which  Martin- 
Castle  bore  in  reference  to  the  surrounding  country,  this 
could  not  have  taken  place  ;  and  the  inference  necessarily 
forced  itself  upon  his  mind  that  Sir  Geoffrey,  his  father, 
was  either  deceased  or  that  the  family  must  have  been  dis- 
turbed by  some  strange  calamity,  under  the  pressure  of 
which  their  wonted  custom  and  solemn  usage  had  been 
neglected. 

Under  the  influence  of  undefinable  apprehension,  young 
Peveril  now  struck  the  spurs  into  his  jaded  steed,  and  fore- 


I 


260  WA  VERLEY  NO VEL S 

ing  him  down  the  broken  and  steep  path  at  a  pace  which  set 
safety  at  defiance,  he  arrived  at  the  village  of  Martindale- 
Moultrassie,  eagerly  desirous  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  this 
ominous  eclipse.  The  street  through  which  his  tired  horse 
paced  slow  and  reluctantly  was  now  deserted  and  empty ; 
and  scarcely  a  candle  twinkled  from  a  casement,  except 
from  the  latticed  window  of  the  little  inn,  called  the  Peveril 
Arms,  from  which  a  broad  light  shone,  and  several  voices 
were  heard  in  rude  festivity. 

Before  the  door  of  this  inn  the  jaded  palfrey,  guided  by 
the  instinct  or  experience  which  makes  a  hackney  well 
acquainted  with  the  outside  of  a  house  of  entertainment, 
made  so  sudden  and  determined  a  pause  that,  notwithstand- 
ing his  haste,  the  rider  thought  it  best  to  dismount,  expect- 
ing to  be  readily  supplied  with  a  fresh  horse  by  Roger 
Raine,  the  landlord,  the  ancient  dependant  of  his  family. 
He  also  wished  to  relieve  his  anxiety,  by  inquiring  concern- 
ing the  state  of  things  at  the  castle,  when  he  was  surprised 
to  hear,  bursting  from  the  taproom  of  the  loyal  old  host,  a 
well-known  song  of  the  Commonwealth  time,  which  some 
Puritanical  wag  had  written  in  reprehension  of  the  Cavaliers 
and  their  dissolute  courses,  and  in  which  his  father  came  in 
for  a  lash  of  the  satirist. 

**  Ye  thought  in  the  world  there  was  no  power  to  tame  ye, 
So  you  tippled  and  drabb'd  till  the  saints  overcame  ye  ; 
'  Forsooth,'  and  '  Ne'er  stir,'  sir,  have  vanquish'd  '  G —  d — n  me,* 

Which  nobody  can  deny. 

There  was  bluff  old  Sir  Geoffrey  loved  brandy  and  mum  well, 
And  to  see  a  beer-glass  turn'd  over  the  thumb  well ; 
But  he  fled  like  the  wind,  before  Fairfax  and  Cromwell, 

Which  nobody  can  deny." 

Some  strange  revolution,  Julian  was  aware,  must  have 
taken  place,  both  in  the  village  and  in  the  castle,  ere  these 
sounds  of  unseemly  insult  could  have  been  poured  forth  in 
the  very  inn  which  was  decorated  with  the  armorial  bearings 
of  his  family  ;  and  not  knowing  how  far  it  might  be  advis- 
able to  intrude  on  these  unfriendly  revelers,  without  the 
power  of  repelling  or  chastising  their  insolence,  he  led  his 
horse  to  a  back-door,  which,  as  he  recollected,  communicated 
with  the  landlord's  apartment,  having  determined  to  make 
private  inquiry  of  him  concerning  the  state  of  matters  at  the 
castle.  He  knocked  repeatedly,  and  as  often  called  on  Roger 
Raine  with  an  earnest  but  stifled  voice.  At  length  a  female 
voice  replied  by  the  usual  inquiry, ''  Who  is  there  ?  " 


PEVERtL  OF  THE  PEAK  261 

"It  is  I,  Dame  Rame — I,  Julian  Peveril ;  tell  your  hus- 
band to  come  to  me  presently/' 

*'  Alack,  and  a  well-a-day,  Master  Julian  ;  if  it  be  really 
you — you  are  to  know  my  poor  goodman  has  gone  where  he 
can  come  to  no  one ;  but,  doubtless,  we  shall  all  go  to  him, 
as  Matthew  Chamberlain  says.-" 

''He  is  dead,  then?''  said  Julian.  "I  am  extremely 
sorry " 

"■  Dead  six  months  and  more.  Master  Julian  ;  and  let  me 
tell  you,  it  is  a  long  time  for  a  lone  woman,  as  Matt  Cham- 
berlain says." 

"Well,  do  you  or  your  chamberlain  undo  the  door.  I 
want  a  fresh  horse  ;  and  I  want  to  know  how  things  are  at 
the  castle." 

"  The  castle — lack-a-day  i  Chamberlain — Matthew  Cham- 
berlain—1  say,  Matt  !" 

Matt  Chamberlain  apparently  was  at  no  great  distance, 
for  he  presently  answered  her  call ;  and  Peveril,  as  he  stood 
close  to  the  door,  could  hear  them  whispering  to  each  other, 
and  distinguish  in  a  great  measure  v/hat  they  said.  And 
here  it  may  be  noticed  that  Dame  Eaine,  accustomed  to 
submit  to  the  authority  of  old  Roger,  who  vindicated  as  well 
the  husband's  domestic  prerogative  as  that  of  the  monarch 
in  the  state,  had,  when  left  a  buxom  widow,  been  so  far  in- 
commoded by  the  exercise  of  her  newly  acquired  independ- 
ence, that  she  had  recourse,  upon  all  occasions,  to  the 
advice  of  Matt  Chamberlain  ;  and  as  Matt  began  no  longer 
to  go  slipshod,  and  in  a  red  nightcap,  but  wore  Spanish 
shoes  and  a  high-crowned  beaver,  at  least  of  a  Sunday,  and 
moreover  was  called  "  Master  Matthew "  by  his  fellow- 
servants,  the  neighbors  in  the  village  argued  a  speedy  change 
of  the  name  on  the  sign-post — nay,  perhaps,  of  the  very  sign 
itself,  for  Matthew  was  a  bit  of  a  Puritan,  and  no  friend  to 
Peveril  of  the  Peak. 

"  Now  counsel  me,  an  you  be  a  man.  Matt  Chamberlain," 
said  Widow  Raine  ;  "  for  never  stir,  if  here  be  not  Master 
Julian's  own  self,  and  he  wants  a  horse,  and  what  not,  and 
all  as  if  things  were  as  they  wont  to  be." 

"Why,  dame,  an  ye  will  walk  by  my  counsel,"  said  the 
chamberlain,  "  e'en  shake  him  off  :  let  him  be  jogging  while 
his  boots  are  green.  This  is  no  world  for  folks  to  scald 
their  fingers  in  other  folks'  broth." 

"  And  that  is  well  spoken,  truly,"  answered  Dame  Raine  ; 
"but  then,  look  you,  Matt,  we  have  eaten  their  bread,  and, 
as  my  poor  goodman  used  to  say " 


m  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

^'  Nay — nay,  dame,  they  that  walk  by  the  counsel  of  the 
dead  shall  have  none  of  the  living  ;  and  so  you  may  do  as  you 
list;  but  if  you  will  walk  by  mine,  drop  latch,  and  draw 
bolt,  and  bid  him  seek  quarters  farther — that  is  my  coun- 
sel.'' 

*'  I  desire  nothing  of  you,  sirrah,"  said  Peveril,  "save  but 
to  know  how  Sir  Geoffrey  and  his  lady  do  ?'' 

"Lack-a-day  ! — lack-a-day  !'Mn  a  tone  of  sympathy,  was 
the  only  answer  he  received  from  the  landlady  ;  and  the 
conversation  betwixt  her  and  her  chamberlain  was  resumed, 
but  in  a  tone  too  low  to  be  overheard. 

At  length.  Matt  Chamberlain  spoke  aloud,  and  with  a  tone 
of  authority  :  "  We  undo  no  doors  at  this  time  of  night,  for 
it  is  against  the  justices'  orders,  and  might  cost  us  our 
license  ;  and  for  the  castle,  the  road  up  to  it  lies  before  you, 
and  I  think  you  know  it  as  well  as  we  do." 

"And  I  know  you,"  said  Peveril,  remounting  his  wearied 
horse,  "  for  an  ungrateful  churl,  whom,  on  the  first  oppor- 
tunity, I  will  assuredly  cudgel  to  a  mummy." 

To  this  menace  Matthew  made  no  reply,  and  Peveril  pres- 
ently heard  him  leave  the  apartment,  after  a  few  earnest 
words  betwixt  him  and  his  mistress. 

Impatient  at  this  delay,  and  at  the  evil  omen  implied  in 
these  people's  conversation  and  deportment,  Peveril,  after 
some  vain  spurring  of  his  horse,  which  positively  refused  to 
move  a  step  farther,  dismounted  once  more,  and  was  about 
to  pursue  his  journey  on  foot,  notwithstanding  the  extreme 
disadvantage  under  which  the  high  riding-boots  of  the  period 
laid  those  who  attempted  to  walk  with  such  encumbrances, 
when  he  was  stopped  by  a  gentle  call  from  the  window. 

Her  counselor  was  no  sooner  gone  than  the  good-nature 
and  habitual  veneration  of  the  dame  for  the  house  of  Peveril, 
and  perhaps  some  fear  for  her  counselor's  bones,  induced  her 
to  open  the  casement,  and  cry,  but  in  a  low  and  timid  tone, 
"  Hist  !  hist  !  Master  Julian — be  you  gone  ?  " 

*'  Not  yet,  dame,"  said  Julian  ;  "  though  it  seems  my  stay 
is  unwelcome." 

"Nay,  but,  good  young  master,  it  is  because  men  counsel 
so  differently  ;  for  here  was  my  poor  old  Eoger  Raine  would 
have  thought  the  chimney-corner  too  cold  for  you  ;  and  here 
is  Matt  Chamberlain  thinks  the  cold  courtyard  is  warm 
enough." 

"  Never  mind  that,  dame,"  said  Julian  ;  "  do  but  only  tell 
me  what  has  happened  at  Martindale  Castle  ?  I  see  the  bea- 
con is  extinguished." 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  263 

*'  Is  it  in  truth  ? — ay,  like  enough  ;  then  good  Sir  Geoffrey 
is  gone  to  Heaven  with  my  old  Roger  Raine  !  " 

*' Sacred  Heaven!^'  exclaimed  Peveril;  **when  was  my 
father  taken  ill  ? '' 

"  Never,  as  I  knows  of,'^  said  the  dame  ;  "  but,  about 
three  hours  since,  arrived  a  party  at  the  castle,  with  buff- 
coats  and  bandeliers,  and  one  of  the  Parliament's  folks,  like 
in  Oliver's  time.  My  old  Roger  Raine  would  have  shut  the 
gates  of  the  inn  against  them,  but  he  is  in  the  church-yard, 
and  Matt  says  it  is  against  law ;  and  so  they  came  in  and 
refreshed  men  and  horse,  and  sent  for  Master  Bridgenorth, 
that  is  at  Moultrassie  Hall  even  now  ;  and  so  they  went  up 
to  the  castle,  and  there  was  a  fray,  it  is  like,  as  the  old  knight 
was  no  man  to  take  napping,  as  poor  Roger  Raine  used  to 
say.  Always  the  officers  had  the  best  on't  ;  and  reason  there 
is,  since  they  had  law  on  their  side,  as  our  Matthew  says. 
But  since  the  pole-star  of  the  castle  is  out,  as  your  honor  says, 
why,  doubtless,  the  old  gentleman  is  dead.'' 

*'  Gracious  Heaven  !  Dear  dame,  for  love  or  gold,  let  me 
have  a  horse  to  make  for  the  castle  !  " 

'' The  castle  !  "  said  the  darae.  ''The  Roundheads,  as 
my  poor  Roger  called  them,  will  kill  you  as  they  have  killed 
your  father.  Better  creep  into  the  woodhouse,  and  I  will 
send  Bett  with  a  blanket  and  some  supper.  Or  stay — my 
old  Dobbin  stands  in  the  little  stable  beside  the  hen-coop — 
e'en  take  him,  and  make  the  best  of  your  way  out  of  the 
country,  for  there  is  no  safety  here  for  you.  Hear  what 
songs  some  of  them  are  singing  at  the  tap  !  So  take  Dobbin, 
and  do  not  forget  to  leave  your  own  horse  instead." 

Peveril  waited  to  hear  no  farther,  only  that,  just  as  he 
turned  to  go  off  to  the  stable,  the  compassionate  female  was 
heard  to  exclaim — *'  0  Lord  !  what  will  Matthew  Chamber- 
lain say  ?"  but  instantly  added,  "  Let  him  say  what  he  will, 
I  may  dispose  of  what's  my  own." 

With  the  haste  of  a  double-fee'd  hostler  did  Julian  exchange 
the  equipments  of  his  jaded  brute  with  poor  Dobbin,  who 
stood  quietly  tugging  at  his  rackful  of  hay,  without  dream- 
ing of  the  business  which  was  that  night  destined  for  him. 
Notwithstanding  the  darkness  of  the  place,  Julian  succeeded 
marvelous  quickly  in  preparing  for  his  journey;  and  leaving 
his  own  horse  to  find  its  way  to  Dobbin's  rack  by  instinct, 
he  leaped  upon  his  new  acquisition,  and  spurred  him  sharply 
against  the  hill,  which  rises  steeply  from  the  village  to  the 
castle.  Dobbin,  little  accustomed  to  such  exertions,  snorted, 
panted,  and  trotted  as  briskly  as  he  could,  ivntil  at  length  he 


264  WA  VEBLEY  NOVELS 

brought  his  rider  before  the  entrance-gate  of  his  father's 
ancient  seat. 

The  moon  was  now  rfsing,  but  the  portal  was  hidden  from 
its  beams,  being  situated,  as  we  have  mentioned  elsewhere, 
in  a  deep  recess  betwixt  two  large  flanking  towers.  Peveril 
dismounted,  turned  his  horse  loose,  and  advanced  to  the 
gate,  which,  contrary  to  his  expectation,  he  found  open.  He 
entered  the  large  courtyard  ;  and  could  then  perceive  that 
lights  yet  twinkled  in  the  lower  part  of  the  building,  although 
he  had  not  before  observed  them,  owing  to  the  height  of  the 
outward  walls.  The  main  door,  or  great  hall-gate,  as  it  was 
called,  was,  since  the  partially  decayed  state  of  the  family, 
seldom  opened,  save  on  occasions  of  particular  ceremony. 
A  smaller  postern  door  served  the  purpose  of  ordinary  en- 
trance ;  and  to  that  Julian  now  repaired.  This  also  was 
open — a  circumstance  which  would  of  itself  have  alarmed 
him,  had  he  not  already  had  so  many  causes  for  apprehen- 
sion. His  heart  sunk  within  him  as  he  turned  to  the  left, 
through  a  small  outward  hall,  towards  the  great  parlor, 
which  the  family  usually  occupied  as  a  sitting-apartment  ; 
and  his  alarm  became  still  greater  when,  on  a  nearer  ap- 
proach, he  heard  proceeding  from  thence  the  murmur  of 
several  voices.  He  threw  the  door  of  the  apartment  wide  ; 
and  the  sight  which  was  thus  displayed  warranted  all  the 
evil  bodings  which  he  had  entertained. 

In  front  of  him  stood  the  old  knight,  whose  arms  were 
strongly  secured,  over  the  elbows,  by  a  leathern  belt  drawn 
tight  round  them,  and  made  fast  behind  ;  two  ruthanly- 
looking  men,  apparently  his  guards,  had  hold  of  his  doublet. 
The  scabbardless  sword  which  lay  on  the  floor,  and  the  empty 
sheath  which  hung  by  Sir  Geoffrey's  side,  showed  the  stout 
old  Cavalier  had  not  been  reduced  to  this  state  of  bondage 
without  an  attempt  at  resistance.  Two  or  three  persons, 
having  their  backs  turned  towards  Julian,  sat  round  a  table, 
and  appeared  engaged  in  writing  ;  the  voices  which  he  had 
heard  were  theirs,  as  they  murmured  to  each  other.  Lady 
Peveril — the  emblem  of  death,  so  pallid  was  her  countenance 
— stood  at  the  distance  of  a  yard  or  two  from  her  husband, 
upon  whom  her  eyes  were  fixed  with  an  intenseness  of  gaze 
like  that  of  one  who  looks  her  last  on  the  object  which  she 
loves  the  best.  She  was  the  first  to  perceive  Julian,  and  she 
exclaimed,  '^  Merciful  Heaven  I  my  son  ! — the  misery  of  our 
house  is  complete  ! " 

''  My  son  l"  echoed  Sir  Geoffrey,  starting  from  the  sullen 
«tate  of  dejection,  and  swearing  a  deep  oath  ;  '^  thou  art 


** Julian  fired  at  the  head  of  the  person  by  whom  he  was  assailed.' 


PEVERIL  OF  TBE  PEAK  ^65 

come  in  the  right  time,  Julian.  Strike  me  one  good  blow — 
cleave  me  that  traitorous  thief  from  the  crown  to  the 
brisket  !  and  that  done,  I  care  not  what  comes  next." 

The  sight  of  his  father^s  situation  made  the  son  forget  the 
inequality  of  the  contest  which  he  was  about  to  provoke. 

'^  Villains/'  he  said,  ''  unhand  him  !  "  and,  rushing  on  the 
guards  with  his  drawn  sword,  compelled  them  to  let  go  Sir 
Geoffrey  and  stand  on  their  own  defense. 

Sir  Geoffrey,  thus  far  liberated,  shouted  to  his  lady, 
"  Undo  the  belt,  dame,  and  we  will  have  three  good  blows 
for  it  yet ;  they  must  fight  well  that  beat  both  father  and 
son  ! " " 

But  one  of  those  men  who  had  started  up  from  the  writing- 
table  when  the  fray  commenced  prevented  Lady  Peveril  from 
rendering  her  husband  this  assistance  ;  while  another  easily 
mastered  the  hampered  knight,  though  not  without  receiv- 
ing several  severe  kicks  from  his  heavy  boots — his  condition 
permitting  him  no  other  mode  of  defense.  A  third,  who 
saw  that  Julian,  young,  active,  and  animated  with  the  fury 
of  a  son  who  fights  for  his  parents,  was  compelling  the  two 
guards  to  give  ground,  seized  on  his  collar,  and  attempted 
to  master  his  sword.  Suddenly  dropping  that  weapon  and 
snatching  one  of  his  pistols,  Julian  fired  it  at  the  head  of 
the  person  by  whom  he  was  thus  assailed.  He  did  not  drop, 
but,  staggering  back  as  if  he  had  received  a  severe  blow, 
sliowed  Peveril,  as  he  sunk  into  a  chair,  the  features  of  old 
Bridgenorth,  blackened  with  the  explosion,  which  had  even 
set  fire  to  a  part  of  his  gray  hair.  A  cry  of  astonishment 
escaped  from  Julian  ;  and  in  the  alarm  and  horror  of  the 
moment  he  was  easily  secured  and  disarmed  by  those  with 
whom  he  had  been  at  first  engaged. 

''  Heed  it  not,  Julian,*'  said  Sir  Geoffrey — '*  heed  it  not, 
my  brave  boy  ;  that  shot  has  balanced  all  accompts.  But 
how — what  the  devil — he  lives  !  Was  your  pistol  loaded 
with  chaff,  or  has  the  foul  fiend  given  him  proof  asrainst 
lead?'' 

There  was  some  reason  for  Sir  Geoffrey's  surprise,  since, 
as  he  spoke.  Major  Bridgenorth  collected  himself,  sat  up  in 
the  chair  as  one  who  recovers  from  a  stunning  blow,  then 
rose,  and  wiping  with  his  handkerchief  the  marks  of  the  ex- 
plosion from  his  face,  he  approached  Julian,  and  said,  in  the 
same  cold  unaltered  tone  in  which  he  usually  expressed  him- 
self, "  Young  man,  you  have  reason  to  bless  God,  who  has 
this  day  saved  you  from  the  commission  of  a  great  crime." 

^'  Bless  the  devil,  ye  crop-eared  knave  ! "  exclaimed  Sir 


266  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Geoffrey  ;  "for  nothing  less  than  the  father  of  all  fanatics 
saved  your  brains  from  being  blown  about  like  the  rinsings 
of  BeezlebuVs  porridge-pot  !  " 

'*Sir  Geoffrey/^  said  Major  Bridgenorth,  **I  have  already 
told  you,  that  with  you  I  will  hold  no  argument ;  for  to 
you  I  am  not  accountable  for  any  of. my  actions." 

"  Master  Bridgenorth/''  said  the  lady,  making  a  strong 
effort  to  speak,  and  to  speak  with  calmness,  *'  whatever  re- 
venge your  Christian  state  of  conscience  may  permit  you  to 
take  on  my  husband — I — I,  who  have  some  right  to  expe- 
rience compassion  at  your  hand — for  most  sincerely  did  I 
compassionate  you  when  the  hand  of  Heaven  was  heavy  on 
you — I  implore  you  not  to  involve  my  son  in  our  common 
ruin  !  Let  the  destruction  of  the  father  and  mother,  with 
the  ruin  of  our  ancient  house,  satisfy  your  resentment  for  any 
wrong  which  you  have  ever  received  at  my  husband's  hand." 

*'Hold  your  peace,  housewife,"  said  the  knight;  ''you 
speak  like  a  fool,  and  meddle  with  what  concerns  you  not. 
Wrong  at  my  hand  ?  The  cowardly  knave  has  ever  had  but 
even  too  much  right.  Had  I  cudgeled  the  cur  soundly 
when  he  first  bayed  at  me,  the  cowardly  mongrel  had  been 
now  crouching  at  my  feet,  instead  of  flying  at  my  throat. 
But  if  I  get  through  this  action,  as  I  have  got  through  worse 
weather,  I  will  pay  off  old  scores,  as  far  as  tough  crab-tree 
and  cold  iron  will  bear  me  out." 

"  Sir  Geoffrey,"  replied  Bridgenorth,  ''  if  the  birth  you 
boast  of  has  made  you  blind  to  better  principles,  it  might 
have  at  least  taught  you  civility.  What  do  you  complain 
of  ?  I  am  a  magistrate  ;  and  I  execute  a  warrant,  addressed 
to  me  by  the  first  authority  in  the  state.  I  am  a  creditor 
also  of  yours  ;  and  law  arms  me  with  powers  to  recover  my 
own  property  from  the  hands  of  an  improvident  debtor." 

"  You  a  magistrate  ! "  said  the  knight ;  ''  much  such  a 
magistrate  as  Noll  was  a  monarch.  Your  heart  is  up,  I 
warrant,  because  you  have  the  King's  pardon,  and  are  re- 
placed on  the  bench,  forsooth,  to  persecute  the  poor  Papist. 
There  was  never  turmoil  in  the  state,  but  knaves  had  their 
vantage  by  it ;  never  pot  boiled,  but  the  scum  was  cast  upper- 
most." 

"  For  God's  sake,  my  dearest  husband,"  said  Lady  Peveril, 
"  Cease  this  wild  talk  !  It  can  but  incense  Master  Bridge- 
north,  who  might  otherwise  consider  that  in  common 
charity " 

"Incense  him  I*'  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  impatiently  interrupt- 
ing her  ;  "  God's  death,  madam,  you  will  drive  me  mad  I 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  267 

Have  you  lived  so  long  in  this  word,  and  yet  expect  consid 
eration  and  charity  from  an  old  starved  wolf  like  that  ? 
And  if  he  had  it,  do  you  think  that  I,  or  you,  madam,  as 
my  wife,  are  subjects  for  his  charity  ?  Julian,  my  poor 
fellow,  I  am  sorry  thou  hast  come  so  unluckily,  since  thy 
petronel  was  not  better  loaded ;  but  thy  credit  is  lost  for- 
ever as  a  marksman/' 

This  angry  colloquy  passed  so  rapidly  on  all  sides,  that 
Julian,  scarce  recovered  from  the  extremity  of  astonish- 
ment with  which  he  was  overwhelmed  at  finding  himself 
suddenly  plunged  into  a  situation  of  such  extremity,  had  no 
time  to  consider  in  what  way  he  could  most  effectually  act 
for  the  succor  of  his  parents.  To  speak  Bridgenorth  fair 
seemed  the  more  prudent  course  ;  but  to  this  his  pride 
could  hardly  stoop  ;  yet  he  forced  himself  to  say,  with  as 
much  calmness  as  he  could  assume,  '^  Master  Bridgenorth, 
since  you  act  as  a  magistrate,  I  desire  to  be  treated  accord- 
ing to  the  laws  of  England,  and  demand  to  know  of  what 
we  are  accused,  and  by  whose  authority  we  are  arrested  ?" 

^'Here  is  another  howlet  for  ye  \"  exclaimed  the  impet- 
uous old  knight ;  "  his  mother  speaks  to  a  Puritan  of 
charity ;  and  thou  must  talk  of  law  to  a  Eoundheaded  rebel, 
with  a  wanion  to  you  !  What  warrant  hath  he,  think  ye, 
beyond  the  Parliament's  or  the  deviFs  ?'* 

''  Who  speaks  of  the  Parliament  ?  "  said  a  person  enter- 
ing  whom  Peveril  recognized  as  the  oflBcial  person  whom  he 
had  before  seen  at  the  horse-dealers,  and  who  now  bustled 
in  with  all  the  conscious  dignity  of  plenary  authority — 
"who  talks  of  the  Parliament  ? '^  he  exclaimed.  "I 
promise  you,  enough  has  been  found  in  this  house  to  con- 
vict twenty  plotters.  Here  be  arms,  and  that  good  store. 
Bring  them  in,  cap  tain. '*• 

*'  The  very  same,"  exclaimed  the  captain,  approaching, 
"  which  I  mention  in  my  printed  Narrative  of  Information, 
lodged  before  the  Honorable  House  of  Commons  ;  they  were 
commissioned  from  old  Vander  Huys  of  Rotterdam,  by 
orders  of  Don  John  of  Austria,  for  the  service  of  the 
Jesuits.'* 

"Now,  by  this  light,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  "they  are  the 
pikes,  musketoons,  and  pistols  that  have  been  hidden  in  the 
garret  ever  since  Naseby  fight  ! " 

"  And  here,"  said  the  captain's  yoke-fellow,  Everett, 
"  are  proper  priest's  trappings — antiphoners,  and  missals, 
and  copes,  I  warrant  you — ay,  and  proper  pictures,  too,,  for 
Papists  to  mutter  and  bow  over/* 


268  WA VEELEY  NOVELS 

"  Now,  plague  on  thy  snuffling  whine, '^  said  Sir  Geoffrey; 
"here  is  a  rascal  will  swear  my  grandmother's  old  farthin- 
gale to  be  priest's  vestments,  and  the  story-book  of  Owlen- 
Spiegel  a  Popish  missal  !" 

•  ^*  But  how's  this.  Master  Bridgenorth  ? "  said  Topham, 
addressing  the  magistrate.  *'  Your  honor  has  been  as  busy 
as  we  have ;  and  you  have  caught  another  knave  while  we 
recovered  these  toys/' 

"  I  think,  sir,"  said  Julian,  *'  if  you  look  into  your  war- 
rant, which,  if  I  mistake  not,  names  the  persons  whom  you 
are  directed  to  arrest,  you  will  find  you  have  no  title  to 
apprehend  me." 

**  Sir,"  said  the  officer,  puffing  with  importance,  '^I  do 
not  know  who  you  are  ;  but  I  would  you  were  the  best  man 
in  England,  that  I  might  teach  you  the  respect  due  to  the 
warrant  of  the  House.  Sir,  there  steps  not  the  man  within 
the  British  seas  but  I  will  arrest  him  on  authority  of  this 
bit  of  parchment ;  and  1  do  arrest  you  accordingly.  What 
do  you  accuse  him  of,  gentlemen  ?  " 

Dangerfield  swaggered  forward,  and  peeping  under  Ju- 
lian's hat,  "  Stop  my  vital  breath,"  he  exclaimed,  "  but  I 
have  seen  you  before,  my  friend,  an  I  could  but  think  where  ; 
but  my  memory  is  not  worth  a  bean,  since  I  have  been 
obliged  to  use  it  so  much  of  late,  in  the  behalf  of  the  poor  state. 
But  I  do  know  the  fellow  ;  and  I  have  seen  him  amongst 
the  Papists — Fll  take  that  on  my  assured  damnation." 

<i  Why,  Captain  Dangerfield,"  said  the  captain's  smoothly 
but  more  dangerous  associate,  ^'verily,  it  is  the  same  youth 
whom  we  saw  at  the  horse-merchant's  yesterday  ;  and  we 
had  matter  against  him  then,  only  Master  Topham  did  not 
desire  us  to  bring  it  out." 

^'  Ye  may  bring  out  what  ye  will  against  him  now,"  said 
Topham,  '^for  he  hath  blasphemed  the  warrant  of  the 
House.     I  think  ye  said  ye  saw  him  somewhere  ?" 

"  Ay,  verily,"  said  Everett,  '^  I  have  seen  him  amongst 
the  seminary  pupils  at  St.  Omer's  ;  he  was  who  but  he  with 
the  regents  there." 

'^  Nay,  Master  Everett,  collect  yourself,"  said  Topham ; 
"  for,  as  I  think,  you  said  you  saw  him  at  a  consult  of  the 
Jesuits  in  London.'* 

''It  was  I  said  so.  Master  Topham,"  said  the  undaunted 
Dangerfield  ;  ''  and  mine  is  the  tongue  that  will  swear  it." 

''  Good  Master  Topham,"  said  Bridgenorth,  "  you  may 
suspend  farther  inquiry  at  present,  as  it  doth  but  fatigue 
and  perplex  the  memory  of  the  king's  witnesses." 


PEVJSBIL  OP  THJB  PEAK  269 

"  Foil  are  wrong.  Master  Bridgenorth — clearly  wrong.  It 
doth  but  keep  them  in  wind — only  breathes  them,  like  gray- 
hounds  before  a  coursing-match/^ 

^'  Be  it  so,^^  said  Bridgenorth,  with  his  usual  indifference 
of  manner  ;  "  but  at  present  this  youth  must  stand  com- 
mitted upon  a  warrant,  which  I  will  presently  sign,  of  hav- 
ing assaulted  me  while  in  discharge  of  my  duty  as  a  magis- 
trate, for  the  rescue  of  a  person  legally  attached.  Did  you 
not  hear  the  report  of  a  pistol  ?  " 

"  I  will  swear  to  it,"  said  Everett. 

''^And  I,"  said  Dangerfield.  ''While  we  were  making 
search  in  the  cellar,  I  heard  something  very  like  a  pistol- 
shot  ;  but  I  conceived  it  to  be  the  drawing  of  a  long-corked 
bottle  of  sack,  to  see  whether  there  were  any  Popish  relics 
in  the  inside  on't." 

''  A  pistol-shot ! "  exclaimed  Topham  ;  "  here  might  have 
been  a  second  Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey^s  matter.  Oh, 
thou  real  spawn  of  the  red  old  dragon  !  for  he  too  would 
have  resisted  the  House's  warrant,  had  we  not  taken  him 
something  at  unawares.  Master  Bridgenorth,  you  are  a  judi- 
cious magistrate  and  a  worthy  servant  of  the  state  ;  I  would 
we  had  many  such  sound  Protestant  justices.  Shall  I  have 
this  young  fellow  away  with  his  parents — what  think  you  ? 
or  will  you  keep  him  for  re-examination  ?" 

*'  Master  Bridgenorth,"  said  Lady  Peveril,  in  spite  of  her 
husband's  efforts  to  interrupt  her,  '^  for  God's  sake,  if  ever 
you  knew  what  it  was  to  love  one  of  the  many  children  you 
hav^e  lost,  or  her  who  is  now  left  to  you,  do  not  pursue  your 
vengeance  to  the  blood  of  my  poor  boy  !  I  will  forgive  you 
all  the  rest — all  the  distress  you  have  wrought — all  the  yet 
greater  misery  with  which  you  threaten  us  ;  but  do  not  be 
extreme  with  one  who  never  can  have  offended  you.  Be- 
lieve, that  if  your  ears  are  shut  against  the  cry  of  a  despair- 
ing mother,  those  which  are  open  to  the  complaint  of  all 
who  sorrow  will  hear  my  petition  and  your  answer." 

The  agony  of  mind  and  of  voice  with  which  Lady  Peveril 
uttered  these  words  seemed  to  thrill  through  all  present, 
though  most  of  them  were  but  too  much  inured  to  such 
scenes.  Every  one  was  silent  when,  ceasing  to  speak,  she 
fixed  on  Bridgenorth  her  eyes,  glistening  with  tears,  with 
the  eager  anxiety  of  one  whose  life  or  death  seemed  to  de- 
pend upon  the  answer  to  be  returned.  Even  Bridgenorth's 
inflexibility  seemed  to  be  shaken  ;  and  his  voice  was  tremu- 
lous;  as  he  answered,  "  Madam,  I  would  to  God  I  had  the 
present  means  of  relieving  your  great  distress  otherwise  than 


270  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

by  recommending  to  you  a  reliance  upon  Providence  :  and 
that  you  take  heed  to  your  spirit,  that  it  murmur  not  under 
this  crook  in  your  lot.  For  me,  I  am  but  as  a  rod  in  the 
hand  of  the  strong  man,  which  smites  not  of  itself,  but  be- 
cause it  is  wielded  by  the  arm  of  him  who  holds  the  same/' 

"  Even  if  I  and  my  black  rod  are  guided  by  the  Commons 
of  England,"  said  Master  Topham,  who  seemed  marvelously 
pleased  with  the  illustration. 

Julian  now  thought  it  time  to  say  something  in  his  own 
behalf ;  and  he  endeavored  to  temper  it  with  as  much  com- 
posure as  it  was  possible  for  him  to  assume.  ''  Master  Bride- 
north,"  he  said,  ''I  neither  dispute  your  authority  nor  this 
gentleman's  warrant " 

''  You  do  not  ?  "  said  Topham.  "  0  ho,  master  youngster, 
I  thought  we  would  bring  you  to  your  senses  presently  V 

"  Then,  if  you  so  will  it,  Master  Topham,"  said  Bridge- 
north,  "  thus  it  shall  be.  You  shall  set  out  with  early  day, 
taking  with  you,  towards  London,  the  persons  of  Sir  Geof- 
frey and  Lady  Peveril  ;  and  that  they,  may  travel  according 
to  their  quality,  you  will  allow  them  their  coach,  sufficiently 
guarded. 

*'  I  will  travel  with  them  myself,"  said  Topham  ;  "  for 
these  rough  Derbyshire  roads  are  no  easy  riding  ;  and  my 
very  eyes  are  weary  with  looking  on  these  bleak  hills.  In 
the  coach  I  can  sleep  as  sound  as  if  I  were  in  the  House,  and 
Master  Bodderbrains  on  his  legs." 

*'It  will  become  you  so  to  take  your  ease,  Master  Top- 
ham," answered  Bridgenorth.  *'  For  this  youth,  I  will  take 
him  under  my  charge  and  bring  him  up  myself." 

'^  I  may  not  be  answerable  for  that,  worthy  Master  Bridge- 
north,"  said  Topham,  "  since  he  comes  within  the  warrant 
of  the  House." 

"  Nay,  but,"  said  Bridgenorth,  "  he  is  only  under  custody 
for  an  assault,  with  the  purpose  of  a  rescue  ;  and  I  counsel 
you  against  meddling  with  him,  unless  you  have  stronger 
guard.  Sir  (reoffrey  is  now  old  and  broken,  but  this  young 
fellow  is  in  the  flower  of  his  youth,  and  hath  at  his  beck  all 
the  debauched  young  Cavaliers  of  the  neighborhood.  You 
will  scarce  cross  the  country  without  a  rescue." 

Topham  eyed  Julian  wistfully,  as  a  spider  may  be  supposed 
to  look  upon  a  stray  wasp  which  has  got  into  his  web,  and 
which  he  longs  to  secure,  though  he  fears  the  consequences 
of  attempting  him. 

Julian  himself  replied,  *'  I  know  not  if  this  separation  be 
well  or  ill  meant  on  your  part,  Master  Bridgenorth  ;  but  on 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  271 

mine,  I  am  only  desirous  to  share  the  fate  of  my  parents  ; 
and  therefore  I  will  give  my  word  of  honor  to  attempt  neither 
rescue  nor  escape,  on  condition  you  do  not  separate  me  from 
them/' 

*'Do  not  say  so,  Julian, ''  said  his  mother.  ''Abide  with 
Master  Bridgenorth  ;  my  mind  tells  me  he  cannot  mean  so 
ill  by  us  as  his  rough  conduct  would  now  lead  us  to  infer/' 

•'And  I"  said  Sir  Geoffre}^  "know,  that  between  the 
doors  of  my  father's  house  and  the  gates  of  hell  there  steps 
not  such  a  villain  on  the  ground.  And  if  I  wish  my  hands 
ever  to  be  unbound  again,  it  is  because  I  hope  for  one  down- 
right blow  at  a  gray  head  that  has  hatched  more  treason 
than  the  whole  Long  Parliament." 

"Away  with  thee  !  "  said  the  zealous  officer  ;  "  is  Parlia- 
ment a  word  for  so  foul  a  mouth  as  thine  ?  Gentlemen,"  he 
added,  turning  to  Everett  and  Dangerfield,  "you  will  bear 
witness  to  this." 

"  To  his  having  reviled  the  House  of  Commons — by  G — d, 
that  I  will  I"  said  Dangerfield;"!  will  take  it  on  my 
damnation." 

"  And  verily,"  said  Everett,  "  as  he  spoke  of  Parliament 
generally,  he  hath  even  contemned  the  House  of  Lords  also." 

"  Why,  ye  poor  insignificant  wretches,"  said  Sir  Geoifrey, 
"  whose  very  life  is  a  lie,  and  whose  bread  is  perjury,  would 
you  pervert  my  innocent  words  almost  as  soon  as  they  have 
quitted  my  lips  ?  I  tell  you  the  country  is  well  weary  of 
you  ;  and  should  Englishmen  come  to  their  senses,  the  jail, 
the  pillory,  the  whipping-post,  and  the  gibbet  will  be  too 
good  preferment  for  such  base  blood-suckers.  And  now. 
Master  Bridgenorth,  you  and  they  may  do  your  worst ;  for  I 
will  not  open  my  mouth  to  utter  a  single  word  while  I  am  in 
the  company  of  such  knaves." 

"  Perhaps,  Sir  Geoffrey,"  answered  Bridgenorth,  "  you 
would  better  have  consulted  your  own  safety  in  adopting 
that  resolution  a  little  sooner  ;  the  tongue  is  a  little  member, 
but  it  causes  much  strife.  You,  Master  Julian,  will  please 
to  follow  me,  and  without  remonstrance  or  resistance ;  for 
you  must  be  aware  that  I  have  the  means  of  compelling." 

Julian  was,  indeed,  but  too  sensible  that  he  had  no  other 
course  but  that  of  submission  to  superior  force  ;  but  ere  he 
left  the  apartment  he  kneeled  down  to  receive  his  father's 
blessing,  which  the  old  man  bestowed  not  without  a  tear  in 
his  eye,  and  in  the  emphatic  words,  "  God  bless  thee.,  my 
boy,  and  keep  thee  good  and  true  to  church  and  king, 
whatever  wina  shall  bring  foul  weather  I " 


2r72  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

His  mother  was  only  able  to  pass  her  hand  over  his  head, 
and  to  implore  him,  in  a  low  tone  to  voice,  not  to  be  rash 
or  violent  in  any  attempt  to  render  them  assistance.  ''  We 
are  innocent/'  she  said,  "  my  son — we  are  innocent ;  and  we 
are  in  God's  hands.  Be  the  thought  our  best  comfort  and 
protection.'' 

Bridgenorth  now  signed  to  Julian  to  follow  him,  which  he 
did,  accompanied,  or  rather  conducted,  by  the  two  guards 
who  at  first  disarmed  him.  When  they  had  passed  from  the 
apartment,  and  were  at  the  door  of  the  outward  hall.  Bridge- 
north  asked  Julian  whether  he  should  consider  him  as  under 
parole  ;  in  which  case,  he  said,  he  would  dispense  with  all 
other  security  but  his  own  promise. 

Peveril,  who  could  not  help  hoping  somewhat  from  the 
favorable  and  unresentful  manner  in  which  he  was  treated  by 
one  whose  life  he  had  so  recently  attempted,  replied,  with- 
out hesitation,  that  he  would  give  his  parole  for  twenty-four 
hours,  neither  to  attempt  to  escape  by  force  nor  by  flight. 

*'  It  is  wisely  said,"  replied  Bridgenorth  ;  ''  for  though  you 
might  cause  bloodshed,  be  assured  that  your  utmost  efforts 
could  do  no  service  to  your  parents.  Horses  there — horses 
to  the  courtyard  !  " 

The  trampling  of  the  horses  was  soon  heard  ;  and  in  obedi- 
ence to  Bridgenorth's  signal,  and  in  compliance  with  his 
promise,  Julian  mounted  one  which  was  presented  to  him, 
and  prepared  to  leave  the  house  of  his  fathers,  in  which  his 
parents  were  now  prisoners,  and  to  go,  he  knew  not  whither, 
under  the  custody  of  one  known  to  be  the  ancient  enemy  of 
Ills  family.  He  was  rather  surprised  at  observing  that 
Bridgenorth  and  he  were  about  to  travel  without  any  other 
attendants. 

When  they  were  mounted,  and  as  they  rode  slowly  towards 
the  outer  gate  of  the  courtyard,  Bridgenorth  said  to  him, 
^'  It  is  not  every  one  who  would  thus  unreservedly  commit  hia 
safety,  by  traveling  at  night  and  unaided,  with  the  hot- 
brained  youth  who  so  lately  attempted  his  life." 

''  Master  Bridgenorth,"  said  Julian,'*  I  might  tell  you  truly, 
that  I  knew  you  not  at  the  time  when  I  directed  my  weapon 
against  you  ;  but  I  must  also  add,  that  the  cause  in  which  I 
used  it  might  have  rendered  me,  even  had  I  known  you,  a 
slight  respecter  of  your  person.  At  present,  I  do  know  you, 
and  have  neither  malice  against  your  person  nor  the  liberty 
of  a  parent  to  fight  for.  Besides,  you  luive  my  word  ;  and 
when  was  a  Peveril  known  to  break  it  ?  " 

"Ay,"  replied  his  companion,  ''  a  Peveril — a  Peveril  of 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  278 

the  Peak  ! — a  name  which  has  long  sounded  like  a  war-trum- 
pet in  the  land  ;  but  which  has  now  perhaps  sounded  its  last 
loud  note.  Look  back,  young  man,  on  the  darksome  turrets 
of  your  father's  house,  which  uplift  themselves  as  proudly 
on  the  brow  of  the  hill  as  their  owners  raised  themselves 
above  the  sons  of  their  people.  Think  upon  your  father,  a 
captive  —  yourself,  in  some  sort  a  fugitive  —  your  light 
quenched — your  glory  abased — your  estate  wrecked  and  im- 
poverished. Think  that  Providence  has  subjected  the 
destinies  of  the  race  of  Peveril  to  one  whom,  in  their  aristo- 
cratic pride,  they  held  as  a  plebeian  upstart.  Think  of  this  ; 
and  when  you  again  boast  of  your  ancestry,  remember, 
that  He  who  raises  the  lowly  can  also  abase  the  high  in 
heart.'' 

Julian  did  indeed  gaze  for  an  instant,  with  a  swelling 
heart,  upon  the  dimly-seen  turrets  of  his  paternal  mansion, 
on  which  poured  the  moonlight,  mixed  with  long  shadows 
of  the  towers  and  trees.  But  while  he  sadly  acknowledged 
the  truth  of  Bridgenorth's  observation,  he  felt  indignant  at 
his  ill-timed  triumph.  '^  If  fortune  had  followed  worth,"  he 
said,  "  the  Castle  of  Martindale  and  the  name  of  Pevril  had 
afforded  no  room  for  their  enemy's  vainglorious  boast.  But 
those  who  have  stood  high  on  Fortune's  wheel  must  abide  by 
the  consequence  of  its  revolutions.  Thus  much  I  will  at 
least  say  for  my  father's  house,  that  it  has  not  stood  un- 
honored  ;  nor  will  it  fall — if  it  is  to  fall — unlamented.  For- 
bear, then,  if  you  are  indeed  the  Christian  you  call  yourself, 
to  exult  in  the  misfortunes  of  others,  or  to  confide  in  your 
now  prosperity.  If  the  light  of  our  house  be  now  quenched, 
God  can  rekindle  it  in  His  own  good  time." 

Peveril  broke  off  in  extreme  surprise  ;  for,  as  he  spoke  the 
last  words,  the  bright  red  beams  of  the  family  beacon  began 
again  to  glimmer  from  its  wonted  watch  tower,  checkering 
the  pale  moonbeam  with  a  rudder  glow.  Bridgenorth  also 
gazed  on  this  an  expected  illumination  with  surprise,  and  not, 
as  it  seemed,  without  disquietude.  ''  Young  man,"  he  re- 
sumed, ^'  it  can  scarcely  be  but  that  Heaven  intends  to  work 
great  things  by  your  hand,  so  singularly  has  that  augury 
followed  on  your  words." 

So  saying,  he  put  his  horse  once  more  in  motion  ;  and 
looking  back,  from  time  to  time,  as  if  to  assure  himself  that 
the  beacon  of  the  castle  was  actually  rekindled,  he  led  the 
way  through  the  well-known  paths  and  alleys,  to  his  own 
house  of  Moultrassie,  followed  by  Peveril,  who,  although 
sensible  that  the  light  might  be  altogether  accidental,  could 
i8 


274  WAVEELEY  NOVELS 

not  but  receive  as  a  good  omen  an  event  so  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  traditions  and  usages  of  his  family. 

They  alighted  at  the  hall-door,  which  was  hastily  opened 
by  a  female  ;  and  while  the  deep  tone  of  Bridgenorth  called 
on  the  groom  to  take  their  horses,  the  well-known  voice  of 
his  daughter  Alice  was  heard  to  exclaim  in  thanksgiving  to 
God,  who  had  restored  her  father  in  safety. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

We  meet,  as  men  see  phantoms  in  a  dream, 
Which  glide,  and  sigh,  and  sign,  and  move  their  lips, 
But  make  no  sound  ;  or  if  they  utter  voice, 
Tis  but  a  low  and  undistinguish'd  moaning, 
Which  has  nor  word  nor  sense  of  utter'd  sound. 

The  Chieftain, 

We  said,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  last  chapter,  that  a  female 
form  appeared  at  the  door  of  Moultrassie  Hall ;  and  that 
the  well-known  accents  of  Alice  Bridgenorth  were  heard  to 
hail  the  return  of  her  father,  from  what  she  naturally  dreaded 
as  a  perilous  visit  to  the  Castle  of  Martindale. 

Julian,  who  followed  his  conductor  with  a  throbbing  heart 
into  the  lighted  hall,  was  therefore  prepared  to  see  her  whom 
he  best  loved  with  her  arms  thrown  around  her  father.  The 
instant  she  had  quitted  his  paternal  embrace,  she  was  aware 
of  the  unexpected  guest  who  had  returned  in  his  company. 
A  deep  blush,  rapidly  succeeded  by  deadly  paleness,  and 
again  by  a  slighter  suffusion,  showed  plainly  to  her  lover 
that  his  sudden  appearance  was  anything  but  indifferent  to 
her.  He  bowed  profoundly,  a  courtesy  which  she  returned 
with  equal  formality,  but  did  not  venture  to  approach  more 
nearly,  feeling  at  once  the  delicacy  of  his  own  situation  and 
of  hers. 

Major  Bridgenorth  turned  his  cold,  fixed,  gray,  melan- 
choly glance  first  on  the  one  of  them  and  then  on  the  other. 
'^Some,^'  he  said,  gravely,  would,  in  my  case,  have  avoided 
this  meeting  ;  but  I  have  confidence  in  you  both,  although 
you  are  young,  and  beset  with  the  snares  incidental  to  your 
age.  Thqre  are  those  within  who  should  not  know  that  ye 
have  been  acquainted.  Wherefore,  be  wise,  and  be  as 
strangers  to  each  other.  ^' 

Julian  and  Alice  exchanged  glances  as  her  father  turned 
from  them,  and,  lifting  a  lamp  which  stood  in  the  entrance- 
hall,  led  the  way  to  the  interior  apartment.  There  was  little 
of  consolation  in  this  exchange  of  looks  ;  for  the  sadness  of 
Alice's  glance  was  mingled  with  fear,  and  that  of  Julian 
clouded  by  an  anxious  sense  of  doubt.  The  look  also  was 
but  momentary  ;  for  Alice,  springing  to  her  father,  took  th« 

d7o 


^16  WAVERLEY  NOVSL& 

light  out  of  his  hand,  and ,  stepping  before  him,  acted  as  the 
usher  of  both  into  the  large  oaken  parlor,  which  has  been 
already  mentioned  as  the  apartment  in  which  Bridgenorth 
had  spent  the  hours  of  dejection  which  followed  the  death 
of  his  consort  and  family.  It  was  now  lighted  up  as  for  the 
reception  of  company  ;  and  five  or  six  persons  sat  in  it,  in 
the  plain,  black,  stiff  dress  which  was  affected  by  tne  formal 
Puritans  of  the  time,  in  evidence  of  their  contempt  of  the 
manners  of  the  luxurious  court  of  Charles  the  Second, 
amongst  whom  excess  of  extravagance  in  apparel,  like 
excess  of  every  other  kind,  was  highly  fashionable. 

Julian  at  first  glanced  his  eyes  but  slightly  along  the  range 
of  grave  and  severe  faces  which  composed  this  society — men, 
sincere  perhaps  in  their  pretensions  to  a  superior  purity  of 
conduct  and  morals,  but  in  whom  that  high  praise  was 
somewhat  chastened  by  an  affected  austerity  in  dress  and 
manners  allied  to  those  Pharisees  of  old  who  made  broad 
their  phylacteries,  and  would  be  seen  of  men  to  fast,  and  to 
discharge  with  rigid  punctuality  the  observances  of  the  law. 
Their  dress  was  almost  uniformly  a  black  cloak  and  doublet, 
cut  straight  and  close,  and  undecorated  with  lace  or  em- 
broidery of  any  kind,  black  Flemish  breeches  and  hose, 
square-toed  shoes,  with  large  roses  made  of  serge  ribbon. 
Two  or  three  had  huge  loose  boots  of  calf-leather,  and  al- 
most every  one  was  begirt  with  a  long  rapier,  which  was 
suspended  by  leathern  thongs  to  a  plain  belt  of  buff  or  of 
black  leather.  One  or  two  of  the  elder  guests,  whose  hair 
had  been  thinned  by  time,  had  their  heads  covered  with  a 
skullcap  of  black  silk  or  velvet,  which,  being  drawn  down 
betwixt  the  ears  and  the  skull,  and  permitting  no  hair  to 
escape,  occasioned  the  former  to  project  in  the  ungraceful 
manner  which  may  be  remarked  in  old  pictures,  and  which 
procured  for  the  Puritans  the  term  of  ^*  prick-eared  Eound- 
heads,''  so  unceremoniously  applied  to  them  by  their  con- 
temporaries. 

These  worthies  were  ranged  against  the  wall,  each  in  his 
ancient,  high-backed,  long-legged  chair ;  neither  looking 
towards,  nor  apparently  discoursing  with,  each  other  ;  but 
plunged  in  their  own  reflections,  or  awaiting,  like  an  as- 
sembly of  Quakers,  the  quickening  power  of  Divine  inspir- 
ation. 

Major  Bridgenorth  glided  along  this  formal  society  with 
noiseless  step,  and  a  composed  severity  of  manner  resembling 
their  own.  He  paused  before  each  in  succession,  and  ap- 
parently communicated,  as  he  passed,  the  transactions  of  the 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  277 

evening,  and  tlie  circumstances  under  which  the  heir  of 
Martindale  Castle  was  now  a  guest  at  Moultrassie  Hall. 
Each  seemed  to  stir  at  his  brief  detail,  like  a  range  of 
statues  in  an  enchanted  hall,  starting  into  something  like 
life  as  a  talisman  is  applied  to  them  successively.  Most  of 
them,  as  they  heard  the  narrative  of  their  host,  cast  upon 
Julian  a  look  of  curiosity,  blended  with  haughty  scorn  and 
the  consciousness  of  spiritual  superiority  ;  though  in  one  or 
two  instances,  the  milder  influences  of  compassion  were  suf- 
ficiently visible.  Peveril  would  have  undergone  this  gaunt- 
let of  eyes  with  more  impatience  had  not  his  own  been  for 
the  time  engaged  in  following  the  motions  of  Alice,  who 
glided  through  the  apartment,  and,  only  speaking  very 
briefly,  and  in  whispers,  to  one  or  two  of  the  company  who 
addressed  her,  took  her  place  beside  a  treble-hooded  old  lady, 
the  only  female  of  the  party,  and  addressed  herself  to  her  m 
such  earnest  conversation  as  might  dispense  with  her  rais- 
ing her  head  or  looking  at  any  others  in  the  company. 

Her  father  put  a  question,  to  which  she  was  obliged  to  re- 
turn an  answer — ''  Where  was  Mistress  Debbitch  ?" 

^^  She  had  gone  out,^^  Alice  replied,  '*^  early  after  sunset, 
to  visit  some  old  acquaintances  in  the  neighborhood,  and  she 
had  not  yet  returned. '^ 

Major  Bridgenorth  made  a  gesture  indicative  of  displeas- 
ure ;  and,  not  content  with  that,  expressed  his  determined 
resolution  that  Dame  Deborah  should  no  longer  remain  a 
member  of  his  family.  ^'  I  will  have  those,^'  he  said  aloud. 
And  without  regarding  the  presence  of  his  guests,  ''  and 
those  only,  around  me,  who  know  to  keep  within  the  sober 
and  modest  bounds  of  a  Christian  family.  Who  pretends  to 
more  freedom  must  go  out  from  among  us,  as  not  being  of 
us." 

A  deep  and  emphatic  humming  noise,  which  was  at  that 
time  the  mode  in  which  the  Puritans  signified  their  applause, 
as  well  of  the  doctrines  expressed  by  a  favorite  divine  in  the 
pulpit  as  of  those  delivered  in  private  society,  ratified  the 
approbation  of  the  assessors,  and  seemed  to  secure  the  dis- 
mission of  the  unfortunate  governante,  who  stood  thus  de- 
tected of  having  strayed  out  of  bounds.  Even  Peveril, 
although  he  had  reaped  considerable  advantages,  in  his  early 
acquaintance  with  Alice,  from  the  mercenary  and  gossiping 
disposition  of  her  governess,  could  not  hear  of  her  dismis- 
sal without  approbation,  so  much  was  he  desirous  that,  in 
the  hour  of  difficulty,  which  mis^ht  soon  approach,  Alice 
might  have  the  benefit  of  countenance  and  advice  from  one 


278  WA VERLEY  NOVELS 

of  her  own  sex  of  better  manners  and  less  suspicious  probity 
than  Mistress  Debbitch. 

Almost  immediately  after  this  communication  had  taken 
place,  a  servant  in  mourning  showed  his  thin,  pinched,  and 
wrinkled  visage  in  the  apartment,  announcing,  with  a  voice 
more  like  a  passing  bell  than  the  herald  of  a  banquet,  that 
refreshments  were  provided  in  an  adjoining  apartment. 
Gravely  leading  the  way,  with  his  daughter  on  one  side  and 
the  Puritanical  female  whom  we  have  distinguished  on  the 
other,  Bridgenorth  himself  ushered  his  company,  who 
followed  with  little  attention  to  order  or  ceremony,  into  the 
eating-room,  where  a  substantial  supper  was  provided. 

In  this  manner,  Peveril,  although  entitled,  according  to 
ordinary  ceremonial,  to  some  degree  of  precedence — a  matter 
at  that  time  considered  of  much  importance,  although  now 
little  regarded — was  left  among  the  last  of  those  who  quitted 
the  parlor ;  and  might  indeed  have  brought  up  the  rear  of 
all,  had  not  one  of  the  company,  who  was  himself  late  in  the 
retreat,  bowed  and  resigned  to  Julian  the  rank  in  the  com- 
pany which  had  had  been  usurped  by  others. 

This  act  of  politeness  naturally  induced  Julian  to  examine 
the  features  of  the  person  who  had  offered  him  this  civility  ; 
and  he  started  to  observe,  under  the  pinched  velvet  cap  and 
above  the  short  band-strings,  the  countenance  of  Ganlesse, 
as  he  called  himself — his  companion  on  the  preceding  even- 
ing. He  looked  again  and  again,  especially  when  all  were 
placed  at  the  supper-board,  and  when,  consequently,  he  had 
frequent  opportunities  of  observing  this  person  fixedly, 
without  any  breach  of  good  manners.  At  first  he  wavered 
in  his  belief,  and  was  much  inclined  to  doubt  the  reality  of 
his  recollection  ;  for  the  difference  of  dress  was  such  as  to 
effect  a  considerable  change  of  appearance  ;  and  the  coun- 
tenance itself,  far  from  exhibiting  anything  marked  or 
memorable,  was  one  of  those  ordinary  visages  which  we  see 
almost  without  remarking  them,  and  which  leave  our  memory 
so  soon  as  the  object  is  withdrawn  from  our  eyes.  But  the 
impression  upon  his  mind  returned,  and  became  stronger, 
until  it  induced  him  to  watch  with  peculiar  attention  the 
manners  of  the  individual  who  had  thus  attracted  his 
notice. 

During  the  time  of  a  very  prolonged  grace  before  meat, 
which  was  delivered  by  one  of  the  company,  who,  from  his 
Geneva  band  and  serge  doublet,  presided,  as  Julian  supposed, 
over  some  dissenting  congregation,  he  noticed  that  this  man 
kept  the  same  demure  and.  severe  cast  of  countenance  usually 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  279 

affected  by  the  Puritans,  and  which  rather  caricatured  the 
reverence  unquestionably  due  upon  such  occasions.  His  eyes 
were  turned  upward,  and  his  huge  penthouse  hat,  with  a 
high  crown  and  broad  brim,  held  in  both  hands  before  him, 
rose  and  fell  with  the  cadences  of  the  speaker^s  voice  ;  thus 
marking  time,  as  it  were,  to  the  periods  of  the  benediction. 
Yet  when  the  slight  bustle  took  place  which  attends  the  ad- 
justing of  chairs,  etc.,  as  men  sit  down  to  table,  Julian's  eye 
encountered  that  of  the  stranger ;  and  as  their  looks  met, 
there  glanced  from  those  of  the  latter  an  expression  of 
satirical  humor  and  scorn,  which  seemed  to  intimate  internal 
ridicule  of  the  gravity  of  his  present  demeanor. 

Julian  again  sought  to  fix  his  eye,  in  order  to  ascertain 
that  he  had  not  mistaken  the  tendency  of  this  transient  ex- 
pression, but  the  stranger  did  not  allow  him  another  op- 
portunity. He  might  have  been  discovered  by  the  tone  of 
nis  voice  ;  but  the  individual  in  question  spoke  little,  and  in 
whispers,  which  was  indeed  the  fashion  of  the  whole  com- 
pany, whose  demeanor  at  table  resembled  that  of  mourners 
at  a  funeral  feast. 

The  entertainment  itself  was  coarse,  though  plentiful ; 
and  must,  according  to  Julian's  opinion,  be  distasteful  to 
one  so  exquisitely  skilled  in  good  cheer,  and  so  capable  of 
enjoying,  critically  and  scientifically,  the  genial  preparations 
of  his  companion,  Smith,  as  Ganlesse  had  shown  himself  on 
the  preceding  evening.  Accordingly,  upon  close  observa- 
tion, he  remarked  that  the  food  which  he  took  upon  his 
plate  remained  there  unconsumed  ;  and  that  his  actul  supper 
consisted  only  of  a  crust  of  bread  with  a  glass  of  wine. 

The  repast  was  hurried  over  with  the  haste  of  those  who 
think  it  shame,  if  not  sin,  to  make  mere  animal  enjoyments 
the  means  of  consuming  time  or  of  receiving  pleasure  ;  and 
when  men  wiped  their  mouths  and  mustachios,  Julian 
remarked  that  the  object  of  his  curiosity  used  a  handker- 
chief of  the  finest  cambric — an  article  rather  inconsistent 
with  the  exterior  plainness,  not  to  say  coarseness,  of  his  ap- 
pearance. He  used  also  several  of  the  more  minute  refine- 
ments, then  only  observed  at  tables  of  the  higher  rank  ;  and 
Julian  thought  he  could  discern  at  every  turn  something  of 
courtly  manners  and  gestures,  under  the  precise  and  rustic 
simplicity  of  the  character  which  he  had  assumed.* 

But  if  this  were  indeed  that  same  Ganlesse  with  whom 

*  A  Scottish  gentlemen  in  hiding,  as  it  was  emphatically  termed, 
for  some  concern  in  a  Jacobite  insurrection  or  plot,  was  discovered 
among  a  number  of  ordinary  persons  by  the  \ise  of  his  toothpick. 


^80  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Julian  had  met  on  the  preceding  evening,  and  who  had 
boasted  the  facility  with  which  he  could  assume  any  char- 
acter which  he  pleased  to  represent  for  the  time,  what  could 
be  the  purpose  of  his  present  disguise  ?  He  was,  if  his  own 
words  could  be  credited,  a  person  of  some  importance,  who 
dared  to  defy  the  danger  of  those  officers  and  informers  be- 
fore whom  all  ranks  at  that  time  trembled ;  nor  was  he 
likely,  as  Julian  conceived,  without  some  strong  purpose,  to 
subject  himself  to  such  a  masqurade  as  the  present,  which 
could  not  be  otherwise  than  irksome  to  one  whose  conversa- 
tion proclaimed  him  of  light  life  and  free  opinions.  Was 
his  appearance  here  for  good  or  for  evil  ?  Did  it  respect  his 
father's  house,  or  his  own  person,  or  the  family  of  Bridge- 
north  ?  Was  the  real  character  of  Ganlesse  known  to  the 
master  of  the  house,  inflexible  as  he  was  in  all  which  con- 
cerned morals  as  well  as  religion  ?  If  not,  might  not  the 
machinations  of  a  brain  so  subtle  affect  the  peace  and  hap- 
piness of  Alice  Bridgenorth  ? 

These  were  questions  which  no  reflection  could  enable 
Peveril  to  answer.  His  eyes  glanced  from  Alice  to  the 
stranger  ;  and  new  fears,  and  undefined  suspicions,  in  which 
the  safety  of  that  beloved  and  lovely  girl  was  implicated, 
mingled  with  the  deep  anxiety  which  already  occupied  his 
mind  on  account  of  his  father  and  his  father's  house. 

He  was  in  this  tumult  of  mind  when,  after  a  thanksgiving 
as  long  as  the  grace,  the  company  arose  from  table,  and  were 
instantly  summoned  to  the  exercise  of  family  worship.  A 
train  of  domestics,  grave,  sad,  and  melancholy  as  their  su- 
periors, glided  in  to  assist  at  this  act  of  devotion,  and  ranged 
themselves  at  the  lower  end  of  the  apartment.  Most  of  these 
men  were  armed  with  long  trucks,  as  the  straight  stabbing 
swords,  much  used  by  Cromwell's  soldiery,  were  then  called. 
Several  had  large  pistols  also  ;  and  the  corslets  or  cuirasses 
of  some  were  heard  to  clank  as  they  seated  themselves  to 
partake  in  this  act  of  devotion.  The  ministry  of  him  whom 
Julian  had  supposed  a  preacher  was  not  used  on  this  oc- 
casion. Major  Bridgenorth  himself  read  and  expounded  a 
chapter  of  Scripture  with  much  strength  and  manliness  of 
expression,  although  so  as  not  to  escape  the  charge  of  fana- 
ticism. The  nineteenth  chapter  of  Jeremiah  was  the  portion 
of  Scripture  which  he  selected  ;  in  which,  under  the  type  of 
breaking  a  potter's  vessel,  the  prophet  presages  the  desola- 
tion of  the  Jews.  The  lecturer  was  not  naturally  eloquent ; 
but  a  strong,  deep,  and  sincere  conviction  of  the  truth  of 
what  he  said  supplied  him  with  language  of  energy  and  fire,  i)^ 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  281 

he  drew  a  parallel  between  the  abominations  of  the  worship 
of  Baal  and  the  corruptions  of  the  Church  of  Eome — so 
favorite  a  topic  with  the  Puritans  of  that  period ;  and  de- 
nounced against  the  Catholics,  and  those  who  favored  them, 
that  hissing  and  desolation  which  the  prophet  directed 
against  the  city  of  Jerusalem.  His  hearers  made  a  yet  closer 
application  than  the  lecturer  himself  suggested  ;  and  many 
a  dark  proud  eye  intimated,  by  a  glance  on  Julian,  that  on 
his  father's  house  were  already,  in  some  part,  realized  those 
dreadful  maledictions. 

The  lecture  finished,  Bridgenorth  summoned  them  to 
unite  with  him  in  prayer ;  and  on  a  slight  change  of  ar- 
rangements amongst  the  company,  which  took  place  as  they 
were  about  to  kneel  down,  Julian  found  his  place  next  to 
the  single-minded  and  beautiful  object  of  his  affection,  as 
she  knelt,  in  her  loveliness,  to  adore  her  Creator.  A  short 
time  was  permitted  for  mental  devotion,  during  which  Peveril 
could  hear  her  half -breathed  petition  for  the  promised  bles- 
sings of  peace  on  earth  and  good-will  towards  the  children 
of  men. 

The  prayer  which  ensued  was  in  a  different  tone.  It  was 
poured  forth  by  the  same  person  who  had  officiated  as  chap- 
lain at  the  table,  and  was  in  the  tone  of  a  Boanerges,  or  Son 
of  Thunder — a  denouncer  of  crimes,  an  invoker  of  judg- 
ments, almost  a  prophet  of  evil  and  of  destruction.  The 
testimonies  and  the  sins  of  the  day  were  not  forgotten  :  the 
mysterious  murder  of  Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey  was  insisted 
upon ;  and  thanks  and  praise  were  offered,  that  the  very 
night  on  which  they  were  assembled  had  not  seen  another 
offering  of  a  Protestant  magistrate  to  the  bloodthirsty  fury 
of  the  revengeful  Catholics. 

Never  had  Julian  found  it  more  difficult,  during  an  act 
of  devotion,  to  maintain  his  mind  in  a  frame  befitting  the 
posture  and  the  occasion ;  and  when  he  heard  the  speaker 
return  thanks  for  the  downfall  and  devastation  of  his  family, 
he  was  strongly  tempted  to  have  started  upon  his  feet  and 
charged  him  with  offering  a  tribute  stained  with  falsehood 
and  calumny  at  the  throne  of  truth  itself.  He  resisted, 
however,  an  impulse  which  it  would  have  been  insanity  to 
have  yielded  to,  and  his  patience  was  not  without  its  reward  ; 
for  when  his  fair  neighbor  arose  from  her  knees,  the  length- 
ened and  prolonged  prayer  being  at  last  concluded,  he  ob- 
served that  her  eyes  were  streaming  with  tears ;  and  one 
glance  with  which  she  looked  at  him  in  that  moment  showed 
more  of  affectionate  interest  for  him  in  bis  fallen  fortunes 


282  WAVERLEY  NOVELS. 

and  precarious  condition  than  he  had  been  able  to  obtain 
from  her  when  his  worldly  estate  seemed  so  much  the  more 
exalted  of  the  two. 

Cheered  and  fortified  with  the  conviction  that  one  bosom 
in  the  company,  and  that  in  which  he  most  eagerly  longed 
to  secure  an  interest,  sympathized  with  his  distress,  he  felt 
strong  to  endure  whatever  was  to  follow,  and  shrunk  not 
from  the  stern  still  smile  with  which,  one  by  one,  the  meet- 
ing regarded  him,  as,  gliding  to  their  several  places  of 
repose,  they  indulged  themselves  at  parting  with  a  look  of 
triumph  on  one  whom  they  considered  as  their  captive 
enemy. 

Alice  also  passed  by  her  lover,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
ground,  and  answered  his  low  obeisance  without  raising 
them.  The  room  was  now  empty,  but  for  Bridgenorth  and 
his  guest,  or  prisoner,  for  it  is  difficult  to  say  in  which 
capacity  Peveril  ought  to  regard  himself.  He  took  an  old 
brazen  lamp  from  the  table,  and,  leading  the  way,  said  at 
the  same  time,  '*  I  must  be  the  uncourtly  chamberlain  who 
am  to  usher  you  to  a  place  of  repose  more  rude,  perhaps  than 
you  have  been  accustomed  to  occupy/' 

Julian  followed  him,  in  silence,  up  an  old-fashioned  wind- 
ing staircase,  within  a  turret.  At  the  landing  place  on  the 
top  was  a  small  apartment,  where  an  ordinary  pallet  bed, 
two  chairs,  and  a  small  stone  table,  were  the  only  furniture. 
''Your  bed,'*  continued  Bridgenorth,  as  if  desirous  to  pro- 
long their  interview,  "  is  not  of  the  softest ;  but  innocence 
sleeps  as  sound  upon  straw  as  on  down." 

"  Sorrow,  Major  Bridgenorth,  finds  little  rest  on  either," 
replied  Julian.  "Tell  me,  for  you  seem  to  await  some 
question  from  me,  what  is  to  be  the  fate  of  my  parents,  and 
why  you  separate  me  from  them  ?  " 

Bridgenorth,  for  answer,  indicated  with  his  finger  the 
mark  which  his  countenance  still  showed  from  the  explosion 
of  Julian's  pistol. 

'' That,"  replied  Julian,  "is  not  the  real  cause  of  your 
proceedings  against  me.  It  cannot  be  that  you,  who  nave 
been  a  soldier,  and  are  a  man,  can  be  surprised  or  displeased 
by  my  interference  in  the  defense  of  my  father.  Above  all, 
you  cannot,  and  I  must  needs  say  you  do  not,  believe  that  I 
would  have  raised  my  hand  against  you  personally,  had 
there  been  a  moment's  time  for  recognition. 

"  I  may  grant  all  this,"  said  Bridgenorth  ;  "  but  what  the 
better  are  you  for  my  good  opinion,  or  for  the  ease  with 
which  I  can  forgive  you  the  injury  which  you  aiiyje^  at  pie  f 


PBVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  283 

You  are  in  my  custody  as  a  magistrate,  accused  of  abetting 
the  foul,  bloody,  and  heathenish  plot  for  the  establishment 
of  Popery,  the  murder  of  the  King,  and  the  general 
massacre  of  all  true  Protestants." 

"  And  on  what  grounds,  either  of  fact  or  suspicion,  dare 
any  one  accuse  me  of  such  a  crime  ? "  said  Julian.  "  I 
have  hardly  heard  of  the  plot,  save  by  the  mouth  of  common 
rumor,  which,  while  it  speaks  of  nothing  else,  takes  care  to 
say  nothing  distinctly  even  on  that  subject." 

''  It  may  be  enough  for  me  to  tell  you,"  replied  Bridge- 
north,  '^  and  perhaps  it  is  a  word  too  much,  that  you  are 
a  discovered  intriguer,  a  spied  spy,  who  carries  tokens  and 
messages  betwixt  the  Popish  Countess  of  Derby  and  the 
Catholic  party  in  London.  You  have  not  conducted  your 
matters  with  such  discretion  but  that  this  is  well  known, 
and  can  be  sufficiently  proved.  To  this  charge,  which 
you  are  well  aware  you  cannot  deny,  these  men,  Everett  and 
Dangerfield,  are  not  unwilling  to  add,  from  the  recollection 
of  your  face,  other  passages,  which  will  certainly  cost  you 
your  life  when  you  come  before  a  Protestant  jury." 

"  They  lie  like  villains,"  said  Peveril,  ''  who  hold  me  ac- 
cessary to  any  plot  either  against  the  King,  the  nation,  or 
the  state  of  religion  ;  and  for  the  countess,  her  loyalty  has 
been  too  long  and  too  highly  proved  to  permit  her  being 
implicated  in  such  injurious  suspicious." 

'^What  she  has  already  done,"  said  Bridgenorth,  his  face 
darkening  as  he  spoke,  *'  against  the  faithful  champions  of 
pure  religion  hath  sufficiently  shown  of  what  she  is  capable. 
She  hath  betaken  herself  to  her  rock,  and  sits,  as  she  thinks, 
in  security,  like  the  eagle  reposing  after  his  bloody  banquet. 
But  the  arrow  of  the  fowler  may  yet  reach  her  :  the  shaft  is 
whetted,  the  bow  is  bended,  and  it  will  be  soon  seen  whether 
Amalek  or  Israel  shall  prevail.  But  for  thee,  Julian  Peveril 
— why  should  I  conceal  it  from  thee  ? — my  heart  yearns  for 
thee  as  a  woman's  for  her  first-born.  To  thee  I  will  give, 
at  the  expense  of  my  own  reputation,  perhaps  at  the  risk  of 
personal  suspicion,  for  who,  in  these  days  of  doubt,  shall 
be  exempted  from  it  ? — to  thee,  I  say,  I  will  give  means  of 
escape,  which  else  were  impossible  to  thee.  The  staircase 
of  this  turret  descends  to  the  gardens,  the  postern  gate  is 
unlatched,  on  the  right  hand  lie  the  stables,  where  you  will 
find  your  own  horse,  take  it,  and  make  for  Liverpool.  I 
will  give  you  credit  with  a  friend  under  the  name  of  Simon 
Simonson,  one  persecuted  by  the  prelates  ;  and  he  will 
expedite  your  passage  from  the  kingdom." 


284  }VA  VEMLEY  no VSl8 

"Major  Bridgenorth/'  said  Julian,  '^I  will  not  deceive 
you.  Were  I  to  accept  your  offer  of  freedom,  it  would  be 
to  attend  to  a  higher  call  than  that  of  mere  self-preservation. 
My  father  is  in  danger,  my  mother  in  sorrow  ;  the  voices  of 
religion  and  nature  call  me  to  their  side.  I  am  their  only 
child — their  only  hope  ;  I  will  aid  them,  or  perish  with  the 
them!^' 

*' Thou  art  mad,'^  said  Bridgenorth ;  "aid  them  thou 
canst  not,  perish  with  them  thou  well  mayst,  and  even  accel- 
erate their  ruin  ;  for,  in  addition  to  the  charges  with  which 
thy  unhappy  father  is  loaded,  it  would  be  no  slight  aggrava- 
tion that,  while  he  meditated  arming  and  calling  together 
the  Catholics  and  High  Churchmen  of  Cheshire  and  Derby- 
shire, his  son  should  prove  to  be  the  confidential  agent  of 
the  Countess  of  Derby,  who  aided  her  in  making  good  her 
stronghold  against  the  Protestant  commissioners,  and  was 
despatched  by  her  to  open  secret  communication  with 
Popish  interest  in  London.^' 

"  You  have  twice  stated  me  as  such  an  agent, '^  said  Pev- 
eril,  resolved  that  his  silence  should  not  be  construed  into 
an  admission  of  the  charge,  though  he  felt  that  it  was  in 
some  degree  well  founded.  "  What  reason  have  you  for  such 
an  allegation  ?  " 

"Will  it  suffice  for  a  proof  of  my  intimate  acquaintance 
with  your  mystery, '' replied  Bridgenorth,  "if  I  should  re- 
peat to  you  the  last  words  which  the  countess  used  to  you 
when  you  left  the  castle  of  that  Amalekitish  woman  ?  Thus 
she  spoke  :  ^  I  am  now  a  forlorn  widow,'  she  said,  '  whom 
sorrow  has  made  selfish.' '' 

Peveril  started,  for  these  were  the  very  words  the  coun- 
tess had  used  ;  but  he  instantly  recovered  himself,  and  re- 
plied, "  Be  your  information  of  what  nature  it  will,  I  deny 
and  I  defy  it  so  far  as  it  attaches  aught  like  guilt  to  me. 
There  lives  not  a  man  more  innocent  of  a  disloyal  thought 
or  of  a  traitorous  purpose.  What  I  say  for  myself,  I  will, 
to  the  best  of  my  knowledge,  say  and  maintain  on  account 
of  the  noble  countess,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  nurture.'* 

"  Perish,  then,  in  thy  obstinacy  !  "  said  Bridgenorth  ;  and 
turning  hastily  from  him,  he  left  the  room,  and  Julian 
heard  him  hasten  down  the  narrow  staircase,  as  if  distrust- 
ing his  own  resolution. 

With  a  heavy  heart,  yet  with  that  confidence  in  an  over- 
ruling Providence  which  never  forsakes  a  good  and  brave 
man,  Peveril  betook  himself  to  his  lowly  place  to  repose. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

The  course  of  human  Ufe  is  changeful  still, 

As  is  the  fickle  wind  and  wandering  rill  ; 

Or,  like  the  liglit  dance  which  the  wild  breeze  waves 

Amidst  the  fated  race  of  fallen  leaves, 

Which  now  its  breath  bears  down,  now  tosses  high, 

Beats  to  the  earth,  or  wafts  to  middle  sky. 

Such,  and  so  varied,  the  precarious  play 

Of  fate  with  Man,  frail  tenant  of  a  day  ! 

Anonymous,  i 

Whilst,  overcome  with  fatigue  and  worn  out  by  anxiety, 
Julian  Peveril  slumbered  as  a  prisoner  in  the  house  of  the 
hereditary  enemy,  Fortune  was  preparing  his  release  by  one 
of  those  sudden  frolics  with  which  she  loves  to  confound  the 
calculations  and  expectancies  of  humanity  ;  and  as  she  fixes 
on  strange  agents  for  such  purposes,  she  condescended  to 
employ,  on  the  present  occasion,  no  less  a  personage  than 
Mistress  Deborah  Debbitch. 

Instigated,  doubtless,  by  the  pristine  reminiscences  of 
former  times,  no  sooner  had  that  most  prudent  and  con- 
siderate dame  found  herself  in  the  vicinity  of  the  scenes  of 
her  earlier  days  than  she  bethought  herself  of  a  visit  to  the 
ancient  housekeeper  of  Martindale  Castle,  Dame  Ellesmere 
by  name,  who,  long  retired  from  active  service,  resided  at 
the  keeper's  lodge,  in  the  west  thicket,  with  her  nephew. 
Lance  Outram,  subsisting  upon  the  savings  of  her  better 
days,  and  on  a  small  pension  allowed  by  Sir  Geoffrey  to  her 
age  and  faithful  services. 

Now,  Dame  Ellesmere  and  Mistress  Deborah  had  not  by 
any  means  been  formerly  on  so  friendly  a  footing  as  this 
haste  to  visit  her  might  be  supposed  to  intimate.  But  years 
had  taught  Deborah  to  forget  and  forgive  ;  or  perhaps  she 
had  no  special  objection,  under  cover  of  a  visit  to  Dame 
Ellesmere,  to  take  the  chance  of  seeing  what  changes  time 
had  made  on  her  old  admirer  the  keeper.  Both  inhabitants 
were  in  the  cottage  when,  after  having  seen  her  master  set 
forth  on  his  expedition  to  the  castle,  Mistress  Debbitch, 
dressed  in  her  very  best  gown,  footed  it  through  gutter,  and 
over  stile,  and  by  pathway  green,  to  knock  at  their  door. 


m  waverlet  i^ovms 

daresay  he  will  not  grudge  you  the  little  matter  you  need, 
and  are  not  able  to  win/^ 

"  Out,  sordid  jade !  '*  exclaimed  Dame  Ellesmere,  her 
very  flesh  quivering  betwixt  apprehension  and  anger,  ^'and 
hold  your  peace  this  instant,  or  I  will  find  those  that  shall 
flay  the  very  hide  from  thee  with  dog- whips.  Hast  thou 
eat  thy  noble  master^s  bread,  not  only  to  betray  his  trust  and 
fly  from  his  service,  but  wouldst  thou  come  here,  like  an 
ill-omened  bird  as  thou  art,  to  triumph  over  his  down- 
fall ?" 

^'  Nay,  dame,^'  said  Deborah,  over  whom  the  violence  oi 
the  old  woman  had  obtained  a  certain  predominance  ;  *Ml 
is  not  I  that  say  it,  only  the  warrant  of  the  Parliament 
folks/' 

"I  thought  we  had  done  with  their  warrants  ever  since 
the  blessed  twenty-ninth  of  May,^'  said  the  old  housekeeper 
of  Martindale  Castle  ;  ''but  this  I  tell  thee,  sweetheart, 
that  I  have  seen  such  warrants  crammed,  at  the  sword^s 
point,  down  the  throats  of  them  that  brought  them  ;  and  so 
shall  this  be,  if  there  is  one  true  man  left  to  drink  of  the 
Dove." 

As  she  spoke.  Lance  Outram  re-entered  the  cottage. 
''Naunt,"  he  said  in  dismay,  ''1  doubt  it  is  true  what  she 
says.  The  beacon  tower  is  as  black  as  my  belt.  No  pole- 
star  of  Peveril.     What  does  that  betoken  ?" 

*'  Death,  ruin,  and  captivity,"  exclaimed  old  Ellesmere. 
"Make  for  the  castle,  thou  knave.  Thrust  in  thy  great 
body.  Strike  for  the  house  that  bred  thee  and  fed  thee  ; 
and  if  thou  art  buried  under  the  ruins,  thou  diest  a  man's 
death." 

''Nay,  naunt,  I  shall  not  be  slack,"  answered  Outram. 
"  But  here  come  folks  that  I  warrant  can  tell  us  more  on't." 

One  or  two  of  the  female  servants,  who  had  fled  from  the 
castle  during  the  alarm,  now  rushed  in  with  various  reports 
of  the  case  ;  but  all  agreeing  that  a  body  of  armed  men  wert3 
in  possession  of  the  castle,  and  that  Major  Bridgenorth  had 
taken  young  Master  Julian  prisoner,  and  conveyed  him  down 
to  Moultrassie  Hall,  with  his  feet  tied  under  the  belly  of  the 
nag — a  shameful  sight  to  be  seen,  and  he  so  well  born  and  so 
handsome. 

Lance  scratched  his  head  ;  and  though  feeling  the  duty 
incumbent  upon  him  as  a  faithful  servant,  which  was  indeed 
specially  dinned  into  him  by  the  cries  and  exclamations  of 
his  aunt,  he  seemed  not  a  little  dubious  how  to  conduct  hi.'v, 
self.     "I  would  to  God,  naunt,"  he  said  at  last,  "  that  olii 


PEVERtL  OF  THE  PEAK  28d 

Whitaker  were  alive  now,  with  his  long  stories  about  Mars- 
ton  Moor  and  Edge  Hill,  that  made  us  all  yawn  our  jaws 
off  their  hinges,  in  spite  of  broiled  rashers  and  double-beer  ! 
When  a  man  is  missed,  he  is  moaned,  as  they  say  ;  and  I 
would  rather  than  a  broad  piece  he  had  been  here  to  have 
sorted  this  matter,  for  it  is  clean  out  of  my  way  as  a  woods- 
man, that  have  no  skill  of  war.  But  dang  it,  if  old  Sir 
Geoffrey  go  to  the  wall  .without  a  knock  for  it !  Here  you, 
Nell  (speaking  to  one  of  the  fugitive  maidens  from  the  castle) 
— but  no,  you  have  not  the  heart  of  a  cat,  and  are  afraid  of 
your  own  shadow  by  moonlight.  But,  Cis,  you  are  a  stout- 
hearted wench,  and  know  a  buck  from  a  bullfinch.  Hark 
thee,  Ois,  as  you  would  wish  to  be  married,  get  up  to  the 
castle  again,  and  get  thee  in — thou  best  knowest  where,  for 
thou  hast  oft  gotten  out  of  postern  to  a  dance,  or  junket- 
ing, to  my  knowledge.  Get  -thee  back  to  the  castle,  as  ye 
hope  to  be  married  ;  see  my  lady — they  cannot  hinder  thee 
of  that — my  lady  has  a  head  worth  twenty  of  ours;  if  I  am 
to  gather  force,  light  up  the  beacon  for  a  signal,  and  spare 
not  a  tar  barrel  on't.  Thou  mayest  do  it  safe  enough.  I 
warrant  the  Roundheads  busy  with  drink  and  plunder.  And, 
hark  thee,  say  to  my  lady  I  am  gone  down  to  the  miners' 
houses  at  Bonadventure.  The  rogues  were  mutinying  for 
their  wages  but  yesterday  ;  they  will  be  all  ready  for  good 
or  bad.  Let  her  send  orders  down  to  me  ;  or  do  you  come 
yourself,  your  legs  are  long  enough.'' 

'*  Whether  they  are  or  not.  Master  Lance — and  you  know 
nothing  of  the  matter — they  shall  do  your  errand  to-night, 
for  love  of  the  old  knight  and  his  lady." 

So  Oisly  Sellok,  a  kind  of  Derbyshire  Camilla,  who  had 
won  the  smock  at  the  foot-race  at  Ashbourne,  sprung  for- 
ward towards  the  castle,  with  a  speed  which  few  could  have 
equaled. 

^'  There  goes  a  mettled  wench,"  ssid  Lance  ;  "  and  now, 
naunt,  give  me  the  old  broadsword — it  is  above  the  bed-head 
— and  my  wood-knife  ;  and  I  shall  do  well  enough." 

'^  And  what  is  to  become  of  me  ?  "  bleated  the  unfortunate 
Mistress  Deborah  Debbitch. 

^'  You  must  remain  here  with  my  aunt.  Mistress  Deb  ; 
and,  for  old  acquaintance'  sake,  she  will  take  care  no  harm 
befalls  you  ;  but  take  heed  how  you  attempt  to  break 
bounds." 

So  saying,  and  pondering  in  his  own  mind  the  task  which 
he  had  undertaken,  the  hardy  forester  strode  down  the  moon- 
light glade,  scarcely  hearing  the  blessings  and  cautions  which 


M  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Dame  Ellesmere  kept  showering  after  him.  His  thoughts 
were  not  altogether  warlike.  ''  What  a  tight  ankle  the  jade 
hath  !  she  trips  it  like  a  doe  in  summer  over  the  dew. 
''  Well,  but  here  are  the  huts.  Let  us  to  this  gear.  Are 
ye  all  asleep,  ye  dammers,  sinkers,  and  drift-drivers  ?  Turn 
out,  ye  subterranean  badgers.  Here  is  your  master.  Sir 
Oeoffrey,  dead,  for  aught  you  know  or  care.  Do  not  you 
see  the  beacon  is  unlit,  and  you  sit  there  like  so  many  asses  ?  " 
"  Why,"  answered  one  of  the  miners,  who  now  began  to 
>ome  out  of  their  huts, 

**  An  he  be  dead, 

He  will  eat  no  more  bread." 

"  And  you  are  like  to  eat  none  neither,"  said  Lance  ;  *'  for 
iixe  works  will  be  presently  stopped,  and  all  of  you  turned 

'^  Well/  and  what  of  it.  Master  Lance  ?  As  good  play  for 
naught  as  work  for  naught.  Here  is  four  weeks  we  have 
scarce  seen  the  color  of  Sir  Geoffrey's  coin  ;  and  you  ask  us 
to  care  whether  he  be  dead  or  in  life  ?  For  you,  that  goes 
about  trotting  upon  your  horse,  and  doing  for  work  what  all 
men  do  for  pleasure,  it  may  be  well  enough  ;  but  it  is  another 
matter  to  be  leaving  God's  light,  and  burrowing  all  day  and 
night  in  darkness,  like  a  toad  in  a  hole — that's  not  to  be 
done  for  naught,  I  trow  ;  and  if  Sir  Geoffrey  is  dead,  his 
soul  will  gnffer  for't ;  and  if  he's  alive,  we'll  have  him  in  the 
barmoot  court." 

'*^  Hark  ye,  gaffer,'*  said  Lance,  ''and  take  notice,  my 
mates,  all  of  you,"  for  a  considerable  number  of  these  rude 
and  subterranean  people  had  now  assembled  to  hear  the  dis- 
cussion— *'  Has  Sir  Geoffrey,  think  you,  ever  put  a  penny  in 
his  pouch  out  of  this  same  Bonadventure  mine  ?" 

"  I  cannot  say  as  I  think  he  has,"  answered  old  Ditchley, 
the  party  who  maintained  the  controversy. 

''  Answer  on  your  conscience,  though  it  be  but  a  leaden 
one.  Do  not  you  know  that  he  hath  lost  a  good  penny  ?  " 

''  Why,  I  believe  he  may,"  said  Gaffer  Ditchley.  ''  What 
then  ?  Lose  to-day,  win  to-morrow  ;  the  miner  must  eat  in 
the  mean  time." 

''  True  ;  but  what  will  you  eat  when  Master  Bridgenorth 
gets  the  land,  that  will  not  hear  of  a  mine  being  wrought  on 
his  own  ground  ?  Will  he  work  on  at  dead  loss  think  ye  ?  " 
demanded  trusty  Lance. 

*'  Bridgenorth  ! — he  of  Moultrassie  Hall,  that  stopped  tht 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  293 

great  Felicity  work,  on  which  his  father  laid  out,  some  say, 
ten  thousand  pounds,  and  never  got  in  a  penny  ?  Why,  what 
has  he  to  do  with  Sir  Geoffrey's  property  down  here  at  Bon- 
adventure  ?    It  was  never  his,  I  trow/' 

*'Nay,  what  do  I  know  ?"  answered  Lance  who  saw  the 
impression  he  had  made.  **  Law  and  debt  will  give  him 
half  Derbyshire,  I  think,  unless  you  stand  by  old  Sir  Geof- 
frey/' 

"  But  if  Sir  Geoffrey  be  dead,"  said  Ditchley,  cautiously, 
"  what  good  will  our  standing  by  do  to  him  ?" 

"I  did  not  say  he  was  dead  but  only  as  bad  as  dead  :  in 
the  hands  of  the  Koundheads — a  prisoner  up  yonder  at  his 
own  castle,"  said  Lance  ;  ''and  will  have  his  head  cut  off, 
like  the  good  Earl  of  Derby's,  at  Bolton-le-Moor." 

"Nay,  then,  comrades,"  said  Gaffer  Ditchley,  ''an  it  be 
as  Master  Lance  says,  I  think  we  should  bear  a  hand  for  stout 
old  Sir  Geoffrey,  against  a  low-born,  mean-spirited  fellow  like 
Bridgenorth,  who  shut  up  a  shaft  had  cost  thousands,  with- 
out getting  a  penny  profit  on't.  So  hurra  for  Sir  Geoffrey, 
and  down  with  the  Rump  !  But  hold  ye  a  blink — hold  (and 
the  waving  of  his  hand  stopped  the  commencing  cheer). 
Hark  ye.  Master  Lance,  it  must  be  all  over,  for  the  beacon 
is  as  black  as  night ;  and  you  know  yourself  that  marks  the 
lord's  death." 

"  It  will  kindle  again  in  an  instant,"  said  Lance  ;  internally 
adding,  "  I  pray  to  God  it  may  !  It  will  kindle  in  an  instant 
— lack  of  fuel,  and  the  confusion  of  the  family  ! " 

"  Ay,  like  enow — like  enow,"  said  Ditchley  ;  "  but  I  winna 
budge  till  I  see  it  blazing." 

"  Why  then,  there  a  goes  !  "  said  Lance.  "  Thank  thee, 
Cis — thank  thee,  my  good  wench.  Believe  your  own  eyes, 
my  lads,  if  you  will  not  believe  me  ;  and  now  hurrah  for  Pev- 
eril  of  the  Peak — the  King  and  his  friends — and  down  with 
Rumps  and  Roundheads  ! " 

The  sudden  rekindling  of  the  beacon  had  all  the  effect 
which  Lance  could  have  desired  upon  the  minds  of  his  rude 
and  ignorant  hearers,  who,  in  their  superstitious  humor, 
had  strongly  associated  the  polar  star  of  Peveril  with  the  for- 
tunes of  the  family.  Once  moved,  according  to  the  national 
character  of  their  countrymen,  they  soon  became  enthu- 
siastic ;  and  Lance  found  himself  at  the  head  of  thirty  stout 
fellows  and  upwards,  armed  with  their  pick-axes,  and  ready 
to  execute  whatever  task  he  should  impose  on  them. 

Trusting  to  enter  the  castle  by  the  postern,  which  had 
served  to  accommodate  himself  and  other  domestics  upon  an 


292  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

emergency,  his  only  anxiety  was  to  keep  his  march  silent ; 
and  he  earnestly  recommended  to  his  followers  to  reserve 
their  shouts  for  the  moment  of  the  attack.  They  had  not 
advanced  far  on  their  road  to  the  castle  when  Cisly  Sellok 
met  them,  so  breathless  with  haste  that  the  poor  girl  was 
obliged  to  throw  herself  into  Master  Lancets  arms. 

''  Stand  up,  my  mettled  wench,"  said  he,  giving  her  a  sly 
kiss  at  the  same  time,  ''  and  let  us  know  what  is  going  on  up 
at  the  castle." 

^'  My  lady  bids  you,  as  you  would  serve  God  and  your 
master,  not  to  come  up  to  the  castle,  which  can  but  make 
bloodshed  ;  for  she  says  Sir  Geoffrey  is  lawfully  in  hand,  and 
that  he  must  bide  the  issue  ;  and  that  he  is  innocent  of  what 
he  is  charged  with,  and  is  going  up  to  speak  for  himself 
before  King  and  Council,  and  she  goes  up  with  him.  And 
besides,  they  have  found  out  the  postern,  the  Eoundhead 
rogues  ;  for  two  of  them  saw  me  when  I  went  out  of  door, 
and  chased  me  ;     but  I  showed  them  a  fair  pair  of  heels." 

''As  ever  dashed  dew  from  the  cowslip,"  said  Lance. 
''  But  what  the  foul  fiend  is  to  be  done  ?  for  if  they  have 
secured  the  postern,  I  know  not  how  the  dickens  we  can 
get  in." 

"  All  is  fastened  with  bolt  and  staple,  and  guarded  with 
gun  and  pistol,  at  the  castle,"  quoth  Cisly  ;  "  and  so  sharp 
are  they,  that  they  nigh  caught  me  coming  with  my  lady's 
message,  as  I  told  you.  But  my  lady  says,  if  you  could 
deliver  her  son.  Master  Julian,  from  Bridgenorth,  that  she 
would  hold  it  good  service." 

''What  !"  said  Lance,  "  is  young  master  at  the  castle? 
I  taught  him  to  shoot  his  first  shaft.     But  how  to  get  in  !" 

"  He  was  at  the  castle  in  the  midst  of  the  ruffle,  but  old 
Bridgenorth  has  carried  him  down  prisoner  to  the  hall," 
answered  Cisly.  "There  was  never  faith  nor  courtesy  in  an 
old  Puritan,  who  never  had  pipe  and  tabor  in  his  house  since 
it  was  built." 

"  Or  who  stopped  a  promising  mine,"  said  Ditchley,  "  to 
save  a  few  thousand  pounds,  when  he  might  have  made  him- 
self as  rich  as  the  Lord  of  Chatsworth,  and  fed  a  hundred 
good  fellows  all  the  whilst." 

"  Why,  then,"  said  Lance,  "since  you  are  all  of  a  mind, 
we  will  go  draw  the  cover  for  the  old  badger  ;  and  I  promise 
you  that  the  hall  is  not  like  one  of  your  real  houses  of  quality, 
where  the  walls  are  as  thick  as  whinstone  dikes,  but  foolish 
brickwork,  that  your  pick-axes  will  work  through  as  if  it 
were  cheese.     Huzza  once  more  for  Peveril  of  the  Peak  ! 


PEVEEtL  OF  THE  PEAK  293 

down  with  Bridgenorth  and  all  upstart  cuckoldy  Round- 
heads !'* 

Having  indulged  the  throats  of  his  followers  with  one 
buxom  huzza,  Lance  commanded  them  to  cease  their  clam- 
ors, and  proceeded  to  conduct  them,  by  such  paths  as 
seemed  the  least  likely  to  be  watched,  to  the  courtyard  of 
Moultrassie  Hall.  On  the  road  they  were  joined  by  several 
stout  yeomen  farmers,  either  followers  of  the  Peveril  family 
or  friends  to  the  High  Church  and  Cavalier  party  ;  most  of 
whom,  alarmed  by  the  news  which  began  to  fly  fast  through 
the  neighborhood,  were  armed  with  sword  and  pistol. 

Lance  Outram  halted  his  party,  at  the  distance,  as  he  him- 
self described  it,  of  a  flight-shot  from  the  house,  and  advanced 
alone,  and  in  silence,  to  reconnoiter  ;  and  having  previously 
commanded  Ditchley  and  his  subterranean  allies  to  come  to 
his  assistance  whenever  he  should  whistle,  he  crept  cautiously 
forward,  and  soon  found  that  those  whom  he  came  to  sur- 
prise, true  to  the  discipline  which  had  gained  their  party  such 
decided  superiority  during  the  Civil  War,  had  posted'a  sen- 
tinel, who  paced  through  the  courtyard  piously  chanting  a 
psalm-tune,  while  his  arms,  crossed  on  his  bosom,  supported 
a  gun  of  formidable  length. 

^'  Now,  a  true  soldier,"  said  Lance  Outram  to  himself, 
*'  would  put  a  stop  to  thy  sniveling  ditty,  by  making  a  broad 
arrow  quiver  in  your  heart,  and  no  great  alarm  given.  But, 
dang  it,  I  have  not  the  right  spirit  for  a  soldier  :  I  cannot 
fight  a  man  till  my  blood^s  up  ;  and  for  shooting  him  from 
behind  a  wall,  it  is  cruelly  like  to  stalking  a  deer.  Til  e'en 
face  him  and  try  what  to  make  of  him.'' 

With  this  doughty  resolution,  and  taking  no  farther  care 
to  conceal  himself,  he  entered  the  courtyard  boldly,  and  was 
making  forward  to  the  front  door  of  the  hall,  as  a  matter  of 
course.  But  the  old  Cromwellian  who  was  on  guard  had  not 
so  learned  his  duty.  ''  Who  goes  there  ?  Stand,  friend — 
stand  ;  or,  verily,  I  will  shoot  thee  to  death  ! "  were  challenges 
which  followed  each  other  quick,  the  last  being  enforced  by 
the  leveling  and  presenting  the  said  long-barreled  gun 
with  which  he  was  armed. 

''  Why,  what  a  murrain  I"  answered  Lance.  "  Is  it  your 
fashion  to  go  a-shooting  at  this  time  o'  night  ?  Why,  this 
is  but  a  time  for  bat-fowling.*' 

"  Nay,  but  hark  thee,  friend,"  said  the  experienced  senti- 
nel, ^'  I  am  none  of  those  who  do  this  work  negligently. 
Thou  canst  not  snare  me  with  thy  crafty  speech,  though 
thou  wouldst  make  it  to  sound  simple  in  mine  ear.     Of  a 


294  WAVEULEY  N0VEL8 

verity  I  will  shoot,  unless  thou  tell  thy  name  and  busi- 
ness/^ 

'^  Name  !  "  said  Lance  ;  "  why,  what  a  dickens  should  it 
be  but  Kobin  Bound — honest  Robin  of  Redham  ;  and  for 
business,  an  you  must  needs  know,  I  come  on  a  message 
from  some  Parliament  man  up  yonder  at  the  castle,  with 
letters  for  worshipful  Master  Bridgenorth  of  Moultrassie 
Hall,  and  this  be  the  place,  as  I  think  ;  though  why  ye  be 
marching  up  an  down  at  his  door,  like  the  sign  of  the  Red 
Man,  with  your  old  firelock  there,  I  cannot  so  well  guess/' 

^*  Give  me  the  letters,  my  friend,"  said  the  sentinel,  to 
whom  this  explanation  seemed  very  natural  and  probable, 
'*  and  I  will  cause  them  forthwith  to  be  delivered  into  his 
worship's  own  hand/' 

Rummaging  in  his  pockets,  as  if  to  pull  out  the  letters 
which  never  existed,  Master  Lance  approached  within  the 
sentinel's  piece,  and,  before  he  was  aware,  suddenly  seized 
him  by  the  collar,  whistled  sharp  and  shrill,  and  exerting 
his  skill  as  a  wrestler,  for  which  he  had  been  distinguished 
in  his  youth,  he  stretched  his  antagonist  on  his  back — the 
musket  for  which  they  struggled  going  off  in  the  fall. 

The  miners  rushed  into  the  courtyard  at  Lance's  signal ; 
and,  hopeless  any  longer  of  prosecuting  his  design  in  silence. 
Lance  commanded  two  of  them  to  secure  the  prisoner,  and 
the  rest  to  cheer  loudly,  and  attack  the  door  of  the  house. 
Instantly  the  courtyard  of  the  mansion  rang  with  the  cry  of 
"  Peveril  of  the  Peak  forever  ! "  with  all  the  abuse  which 
the  Royalists  had  invented  to  cast  upon  the  Roundhead 
during  so  many  years  of  contention  ;  and  at  the  same  time, 
while  some  assailed  the  door  with  their  mining  implements, 
others  directed  their  attack  against  the  angle,  where  a  kind 
of  porch  joined  to  the  main  front  of  the  building  ;  and  there, 
in  some  degree  protected  by  the  projection  of  the  wall  and 
of  a  balcony  which  overhung  the  porch,  wrought  in  more 
security,  as  well  as  with  more  effect,  than  the  others ;  for 
the  doors  being  of  oak,  thickly  studded  with  nails,  offered  a 
more  effectual  resistance  to  violence  than  the  brickwork. 

The  noise  of  this  hubbub  on  the  outside  soon  excited  wild 
alarm  and  tumult  within.  Lights  flew  from  window  to 
window,  and  voices  were  heard  demanding  the  cause  of  the 
attack  ;  to  which  the  party  cries  of  those  who  were  in  the 
courtyard  afforded  a  sufficient,  or  at  least  the  only,  answer, 
which* was  vouchsafed.  At  length  the  window  of  a  project- 
ing staircase  opened,  and  the  voice  of  Bridgenorth  himself 
demanded  authoritatively  what  the  tumult  meant,  and  com' 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  295 

manded  the  rioters  to  desist,  upon  their  own  proper  and 
immediate  peril. 

''  We  want  our  young  master,  you  canting  old  thief,"  was 
the  reply  ;  "  and  if  we  have  him  not  instantly,  the  topmost 
stone  of  your  house  shall  lie  as  low  as  the  foundation  ! " 

'*  We  will  try  that  presently,"  said  Bridgenorth  ;  ''for  if 
there  is  another  blow  struck  against  the  walls  of  my  peace- 
ful house,  I  will  fire  my  carabine  among  you,  and  your  blood 
be  upon  your  own  head.  I  have  a  score  of  friends,  well 
armed  with  musket  and  pistol,  to  defend  my  house  ;  and  we 
have  both  the  means  and  heart,  with  Heaven^s  assistance,  to 
repay  any  violence  you  can  offer. " 

''  Master  Bridgenorth,"  replied  Lance,  who,  though  no 
soldier,  was  sportsman  enough  to  comprehend  the  advantage 
which  those  under  cover,  and  using  firearms,  must  necessarily 
have  over  his  party,  exposed  to  their  aim,  in  a  great  measure, 
and  without  means  of  answering  their  fire — ''  Master  Bridge- 
north,  let  us  crave  parley  with  you,  and  fair  conditions. 
We  desire  to  do  you  no  evil,  but  will  have  back  our  young 
master ;  it  is  enough  that  you  have  got  our  old  one  and  his 
lady.  It  is  foul  chasing,  to  kill  hart,  hind,  and  fawn  ;  and 
we  willgive  you  some  light  on  the  subject  in  an  instant." 

This  speech  was  followed  by  a  great  crash  amongst  the 
lower  windows  of  the  house,  according  to  a  new  species  of 
attack  which  had  been  suggested  by  some  of  the  assail- 
ants. 

''  I  would  take  the  honest  fellow's  word,  and  let  young 
Peveril  go,"  said  one  of  the  garrison,  who,  carelessly  yawn- 
ing, approached  on  the  inside  the  post  at  which  Bridgenorth 
had  stationed  himself. 

^'  Are  you  mad  ?"  said  Bridgenorth  ;  *'or  do  you  think 
me  poor  enough  in  spirit  to  give  up  the  advantages  I  now 
possess  over  the  family  of  Peveiil  for  the  awe  of  a  parcel  of 
boors,  whom  the  first  discharge  will  scatter  like  chaff  before 
the  whirlwind  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  answered  the  speaker,  who  was  the  same  individual 
that  had  struck  Julian  by  his  resemblance  to  the  man  who 
called  himself  Ganlesse,  ''  I  love  a  dire  revenge,  but  we  shall 
buy  it  somewhat  too  dear  if  these  rascals  set  the  house  on 
fire,  as  they  are  like  to  do,  while  you  are  parleying  from  the 
window.  They  have  thrown  torches  or  firebrands  into  the 
hall ;  and  it  is  all  our  friends  can  do  to  keep  the  flame  fr7)m 
catching  the  wainscoting,  which  is  old  and  dry." 

"  Now,  may  Heaven  judge  thee  for  thy  lightness  of  spirit," 
answered  Bridgenorth ;  '*  one  would  think  mischief  was  so 


296  WA  VEBLEY  NO  VELS 

properly  thy  element  that  to  thee  it  was  indifferent  whethei 
iriend  or  foe  was  the  sufferer." 

So  saying,  he  ran  hastily  downstairs  towards  the  hall,  into 
which,  through  broken  casements,  and  betwixt  the  iron  bars, 
which  prevented  human  entrance,  the  assailants  had  thrust 
lighted  straw,  sufficient  to  excite  much  smoke  and  some  fire, 
and  to  throw  the  defenders  of  the  house  into  great  confusion  ; 
insomuch,  that  of  several  shots  fired  hastily  from  the  win- 
dows little  or  no  damage  followed  to  the  besiegers,  who, 
getting  warm  in  the  onset,  answered  the  hostile  charges  with 
loud  shouts  of  "  Peveril  forever  ! "  and  had  already  made  a 
practicable  breach  through  the  brick  wall  of  the  tenement, 
through  which  Lance,  Ditchley,  and  several  of  the  most 
adventurous  among  their  followers,  made  their  way  into  the 
hall. 

The  complete  capture  of  the  house  remained,  however,  as 
far  off  as  ever.  The  defenders  mixed  with  much  coolness 
and  skill  that  solemn  and  deep  spirit  of  enthusiasm  which 
sets  life  at  less  than  nothing  in  comparison  to  real  or  sup- 
posed duty.  From  the  half-opened  doors  which  led  into  the 
hall,  they  maintained  a  fire  which  began  to  grow  fatal.  One 
miner  was  shot  dead  ;  three  or  four  were  wounded  ;  and 
Lance  scarce  knew  whether  he  should  draw  his  forces  from 
the  house  and  leave  it  a  prey  to  the  flames,  or,  making  a 
desperate  attack  on  the  posts  occupied  by  the  defenders,  try 
to  obtain  unmolested  possession  of  the  place.  At  this  mo- 
ment his  course  of  conduct  was  determined  by  an  unexpected 
occurrence,  of  which  it  is  necessary  to  trace  the  cause. 

Julian  Peveril  had  been,  like  other  inhabitants  of  Moul- 
trassie  Hall  on  that  momentous  night,  awakened  by  the  report 
of  the  sentineFs  musket,  followed  by  the  shouts  of  his 
father's  vassals  and  followers  ;  of  which  he  collected  enough 
to  guess  that  Bridgenorth's  house  was  attacked  with  a  view 
to  his  liberation.  Very  doubtful  of  the  issue  of  such  an 
attempt,  dizzy  with  the  slumber  from  which  he  had  been  so 
suddenly  awakened,  and  confounded  with  the  rapid  succes- 
sion of  events  to  which  he  had  been  lately  a  witness,  he 
speedily  put  on  a  part  of  his  clothes  and  hastened  to  the 
window  of  his  apartment.  From  this  he  could  see  nothing 
to  relieve  his  anxiety,  for  it  looked  towards  a  quarter  differ- 
ent from  that  on  which  the  attack  was  made.  He  attempted 
his  door ;  it  was  locked  on  the  outside  ;  and  his  perplexity 
and  anxiety  became  extreme,  when  suddenly  the  lock  was 
turned,  and  in  an  undress  hastily  assumed  in  the  moment  of 
alarm,  her  hair  streaming  on  her  shoulders,  her  eyes  gleam- 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  '201 

ing  betwixt  fear  and  resolution,  Alice  Bridgenorth  rushed 
into  his  apartment,  and  seized  his  hand  with  the  fervent 
exclamation,  "  Julian,  save  my  father  !  '^ 

The  light  which  she  bore  in  her  hand  served  to  show 
those  features  which  could  rarely  have  been  viewed  by  any 
one  without  emotion,  but  which  bore  an  expression  irresist- 
ible to  a  lover. 

''Alice,"  he  said,  "what  means  this?  What  is  the 
danger  ?    Where  is  your  father  ?  " 

"Do  not  stay  to  question,"  she  answered  ;  "but  if  yon 
wo  aid  save  him,  follow  me  !" 

At  the  same  time  she  led  the  way,  with  great  speed,  half- 
way down  the  turret  staircase  which  led  to  his  room,  thence 
turning  through  a  side  door,  along  a  long  gallery,  to  a  larger 
and  wider  stair,  at  the  bottom  of  which  stood  her  father, 
surrounded  by  four  or  five  of  his  friends,  scarce  discernible 
through  the  smoke  of  the  fire  which  began  to  take  hold  in 
the  hall,  as  well  as  that  which  arose  from  the  repeated 
discharge  of  their  own  firearms. 

Julian  saw  there  was  not  a  moment  to  be  lost,  if  he  meant 
to  be  a  successful  mediator.  He  rushed  through  Bridge- 
north's  party  ere  they  were  aware  of  his  approach,  and 
throwing  himself  among  the  assailants,  who  occupied  the 
hall  in  considerable  numbers,  he  assured  them  of  his  personal 
safety,  and  conjured  them  to  depart. 

'*  Not  without  a  few  more  slices  at  the  Eump,  master,'* 
answered  Lance.  "I  am  principally  glad  to  see  you  safe 
and  well ;  but  here  is  Joe  Rimegap  shot  as  dead  as  a  buck 
in  season,  and  more  of  us  are  hurt ;  and  we^'ll  have  revenge, 
and  roast  the  Puritans  like  apples  for  lambswool  ! " 

'^  Then  you  shall  roast  me  along  with  them,"  said  Julian ; 
"  for  I  vow  to  God,  I  will  not  leave  the  hall,  being  bound  by 
parole  of  honor  to  abide  with  Major  Bridgenorth  till  lawfully 
dismissed." 

"  Now  out  on  you,  an  you  were  ten  times  a  Peveril  ! "  said 
Ditchley  ;  "  to  give  so  many  honest  fellows  loss  and  labor  on 
your  behalf,  and  to  show  them  no  kinder  countenance.  I 
say,  beat  up  the  fire  and  burn  all  together  ! " 

"  Nay — nay  ;  but  peace,  my  masters,  and  hearken  to 
reason,"  said  Julian  ;  "  we  are  all  here  in  evil  condition,  and 
you  will  only  make  it  worse  by  contention.  Do  you  help  to 
put  out  this  same  fire,  which  will  else  cost  us  all  dear. 
Keep  yourselves  under  arms.  Let  Master  Bridgenorth  and 
me  settle  some  grounds  of  accommodation,  and  I  trust  all 
will  be  favorably  made  up  on  both  sides  ;  and  if  not,  you 


298  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

shall  have  my  consent  and  countenance  to  fight  it  out  ;  and 
come  on  it  what  will,  I  will  never  forget  this  night's  good 
service/' 

He  then  drew  Ditchley  and  Lance  Outram  aside,  while 
the  rest  stood  suspended  at  his  appearance  and  words,  and 
expressing  the  utmost  thanks  and  gratitude  for  what  they 
had  already  done,  urged  them,  as  the  greatest  favor  which 
they  could  do  towards  him  and  his  father's  house,  to  permit 
him  to  negotiate  the  terms  of  his  emancipation  from  thral- 
dom ;  at  the  same  time  forcing  on  Ditchley  five  or  six  gold 
pieces,  that  the  brave  lads  of  Bonadventure  might  drink  his 
health  ;  whilst  to  Lance  he  expressed  the  warmest  sense  of 
his  active  kindness,  but  protested  he  could  only  consider  it 
as  good  service  to  his  house  if  he  was  allowed  to  manage  the 
matter  after  his  own  fashion. 

'^  Why,''  answered  Lance,  "I  am  well  out  on  it,  Master 
Julian  ;  for  it  is  matter  beyond  my  mastery.  All  that  I 
stand  to  is,  that  I  will  see  you  safe  out  of  this  same  Moul- 
trassie  Hall  ;  for  our  old  naunt  Ellesmere  will  else  give  me 
but  cold  comfort  when  I  come  home.  Truth  is,  I  began 
nnwillingly  ;  but  when  I  saw  the  poor  fellow  Joe  shot  beside 
me,  why,  I  thought  we  should  have  some  amends.  But  I 
put  it  all  in  your  honor's  hands." 

During  this  colloquy  both  parties  had  been  amicably  em- 
ployed in  extinguishing  the  fire,  which  might  otherwise  have 
been  fatal  to  all.  It  required  a  general  eif ort  to  get  it  under  ; 
and  both  parties  agreed  on  the  necessary  labor  with  as  much 
unanimity  as  if  the  water  they  brought  in  leathern  buckets 
from  the  well  to  throw  upon  the  fire  had  had  some  effect  in 
•laking  their  mutual  hostility. 


CHAPTEK  XXVI 

Necessity,  thou  best  of  peacemakers, 
As  well  as  surest  prompter  of  invention. 
Help  us  to  composition  I 

Anonymous. 

While  the  fire  continued,  the  two  parties  labored  in  active 
union,  like  the  jarring  factions  of  the  Jews  during  the  siege 
of  Jerusalem,  when  compelled  to  unite  in  resisting  an  assault 
of  the  besiegers.  But  when  the  last  bucket  of  water  had 
hissed  on  the  few  embers  that  continued  to  glimmer  ;  when 
the  sense  of  mutual  hostility,  hitherto  suspended  by  a  feeling 
of  common  danger,  was  in  its  turn  rekindled,  the  parties, 
mingled  as  they  had  hitherto  been  in  one  common  exertion, 
drew  off  from  each  other,  and  began  to  arrange  themselves 
at  opposite  sides  of  the  hall,  and  handle  their  weapons,  as  if 
for  a  renewal  of  the  fight. 

Bridgenorth  interrupted  any  further  progress  of  this 
menaced  hostility.  "  Julian  Peveril,"  he  said,  '*  thou  art 
free  to  walk  thine  own  path,  since  thou  wilt  not  walk  with 
me  that  road  which  is  more  safe,  as  well  as  more  honorable. 
But  if  you  do  by  my  counsel,  you  will  get  soon  beyond  the 
British  seas.^' 

''  Ealph  Bridgenorth,'*  said  one  of  his  friends,  '*  this  is 
but  evil  and  feeble  conduct  on  thine  own  part.  Wilt  thou 
withhold  thy  hand  from  the  battle,  to  defend,  from  these 
sons  of  Belial,  the  captive  of  thy  bow  and  of  thy  spear  ? 
Surely  we  are  enow  to  deal  with  them  in  the  security  of  our 
good  old  cause  ;  nor  should  we  part  with  this  spawn  of  the 
old  serpent  until  we  essay  whether  the  Lord  will  not  give  us 
victory  therein/* 

A  hum  of  stern  assent  followed  ;  and  had  not  Ganlesse 
now  interfered,  the  combat  would  probably  have  been  re- 
newed. He  took  the  advocate  for  war  apart  into  one  of  the 
window  recesses,  and  apparently  satisfied  his  objections  ;  for 
as  he  returned  to  his  companions,  he  said  to  them,  "  Our 
friend  hath  so  well  argued  this  matter  that,  verily,  since  he 
is  of  the  same  mind  with  the  worthy  Major  Bridgenorth,  I 
think  the  youth  may  be  set  at  liberty." 

As  no  further  objection  was  offered,  it  only  remained  with 

:2d9 


300  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Julian  to  thank  and  reward  those  who  had  been  active  in 
his  assistance.  Having  first  obtained  from  Bridgenorth  a 
promise  of  indemnity  to  them  from  the  riot  they  had  com- 
mitted, a  few  kind  words  conveyed  his  sense  of  their  services  ; 
and  some  broad  pieces,  thrust  into  the  hand  of  Lance  Outram, 
furnished  the  means  for  affording  them  a  holyday.  They 
would  have  remained  to  protect  him  ;  but  fearful  of  farther 
disorder,  and  relying  entirely  on  the  good  faith  of  Major 
Bridgenorth,  he  dismissed  them  all  excepting  Lance,  whom 
he  detained  to  attend  upon  him  for  a  few  minutes,  till  he 
should  depart  from  Moultrassie.  But,  ere  leaving  the  hall, 
he  could  not  repress  his  desire  to  speak  with  Bridgenorth 
in  secret ;  and  advancing  towards  him,  he  expressed  such  a 
desire. 

Tacitly  granting  what  was  asked  of  him,  Bridgenorth  led 
the  way  to  a  small  summer  saloon  adjoining  to  the  hall, 
where,  with  his  usual  gravity  and  indifference  of  manner, 
he  seemed  to  await  in  silence  what  Peveril  had  to  communi- 
cate. 

Julian  found  it  difficult,  where  so  little  opening  was  af- 
forded him,  to  find  a  tone  in  which  to  open  the  subjects  he 
had  at  heart,  that  should  be  at  once  dignified  and  concili- 
ating, '^  Major  Bridgenorth,'^  he  said  at  length,  "you  have 
been  a  son,  and  an  affectionate  one.  You  may  conceive  my 
present  anxiety.  My  father  !  What  has  been  designed  for 
him  ?  " 

"  What  the  law  will,''  answered  Bridgenorth.  "  Had  he 
walked  by  the  counsels  which  I  procured  to  be  given  to  him, 
he  might  have  dwelt  safely  in  the  house  of  his  ancestors. 
His  fate  is  now  beyond  my  control — far  beyond  yours.  It 
must  be  with  him  as  his  country  shall  decide." 

''  And  my  mother  ?  "  said  Peveril. 

"  Will  consult,  as  she  has  ever  done,  her  own  duty  ;  and 
create  her  own  happiness  by  doing  so,"  replied  Bridgenorth. 
"  Believe,  my  designs  towards  your  family  are  better  than 
they  may  seem  through  the  mist  which  adversity  has  spread 
around  your  house.  I  may  triumph  as  a  man  ;  but  as  a  man 
I  must  also  remember,  in  my  hour,  that  mine  enemies  have 
had  theirs.  Have  you  aught  else  to  say  ?  "  he  added,  after 
a  momentary  pause.  '^You  have  rejected  once,  yea  and 
again,  the  hand  I  stretched  out  to  you.  Methinks  little 
more  remains  between  us." 

These  words,  which  seemed  to  cut  short  farther  discus- 
sion, were  calmly  spoken  ;  so  that,  though  they  appeared  to 
discourage  farther  question,  they  could  not  interrupt  that 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  301 

which  still  trembled  on  Julian's  tongue.  He  made  a  step 
or  two  towards  the  door  ;  then  suddenly  returned.  "  Your 
daughter  !  "  he  said — "  Major  Bridgenorth — I  should  ask — 
I  do  ask  forgiveness  for  mentioning  her  name — but  may  I 
not  inquire  after  her  ?  May  I  not  express  my  wishes  for  her 
future  happiness  ?  " 

"  Your  interest  in  her  is  hut  too  flattering,"  said  Bridge- 
north  ;  '*  but  you  have  already  chosen  your  part ;  and  you 
must  be,  in  future,  strangers  to  each  other.  I  may  have 
wished  it  otherwise,  but  the  hour  of  grace  is  passed,  during 
which  your  compliance  with  my  advice  might — I  will  speak 
it. plainly — have  led  to  your  union.  For  her  happiness — if 
such  a  word  belongs  to  a  mortal  pilgrimage — I  shall  care  for 
it  sufficiently.  She  leaves  this  place  to-day,  under  the  guard- 
ianship of  a  sure  friend." 

''  Not  of "  exclaimed  Peveril,  and  stopped  short ;  for 

he  felt  he  had  no  right  to  pronounce  the  name  which  came 
to  his  lips. 

i(  Why  do  you  pause  ?  "  said  Bridgenorth  ;  '^  a  sudden 
thought  is  often  a  wise,  almost  always  an  honest,  one.  With 
whom  did  you  suppose  I  meant  to  entrust  my  child,  that  the 
idea  called  forth  so  anxious  an  expression  ?  " 

"  Again  I  should  ask  your  forgiveness,"  said  Julian,  '^for 
meedling  where  I  have  little  right  to  interfere.  But  I  saw 
a  face  here  that  is  known  to  me  ;  the  person  calls  himself 
Ganlesse.  Is  it  with  him  that  you  mean  to  entrust  your 
daughter  ?  " 

^'  Even  to  the  person  who  calls  himself  Ganlesse,'  £aid 
Bridgenorth,  without  expressing  either  anger  or  surprise. 

'^  And  do  you  know  to  whom  you  commit  a  charge  so 
precious  to  all  who  know  her  and  so  dear  to  yourself  ? " 
said  Julian. 

''  Do  you  know,  who  ask  me  the  question  ?  "  answered 
Bridgenorth. 

*' 1  own  I  do  not,"  answered  Julian  ;  "but  I  have  seen 
him  in  a  character  so  different  from  what  he  now  wears, 
that  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  warn  you  how  you  entrust  the 
charge  of  your  child  to  one  who  can  alternately  play  the 
profligate  or  the  hypocrite,  as  it  suits  his  own  interest  or 
humor." 

Bridgenorth  smiled  contemptuously.  "  I  might  be  angry," 
he  said, ''  with  the  officious  zeal  which  supposes  that  its  green 
conceptions  can  instruct  my  gray  hairs  ;  but,  good  Julian,  I 
do  but  only  ask  from  you  the  liberal  construction  that  I,  who 
have  had  much  converse  with  mankind,  know  with  whom  I 


302  WjIVI^BLEY  novels 

trust  what  is  dearest  to  me.  He  of  whom  thou  speakest  hath 
one  visage  to  his  friends,  though  he  may  have  others  to  the 
world,  living  amongst  those  before  whom  honest  features 
should  be  coneealed  under  a  grotesque  vizard  ;  even  as  in  the 
sinful  sports  of  the  day,  called  maskings  and  mummeries, 
where  the  wise,  if  he  show  himself  at  all,  must  be  contented 
to  play  the  apish  and  fantastic  fool/' 

^'  I  would  only  pray  your  wisdom  to  beware,^'  said  Julian, 
"  of  one  who,  as  he  has  a  vizard  for  others,  may  also  have 
one  which  can  disguise  his  real  features  from  you  yourself/' 

^'  This  is  being  over  careful,  young  man,''  replied  Bridge- 
north,  more  shortly  than  he  had  hitherto  spoken  ;  ^'^if  you 
would  walk  by  my  counsel,  you  will  attend  to  your  own  af- 
fairs, which,  credit  me,  deserve  all  your  care,  and  leave  others 
to  the  management  of  theirs." 

This  was  too  plain  to  be  misunderstood  ;  and  Peveril  was 
compelled  to  take  his  leave  of  Bridgenorth  and  of  Moultrassie 
Hall  without  farther  parley  or  explanation.  The  reader  may 
imagine  how  oft  he  looked  back,  and  tried  to  guess,  amongst 
the  lights  which  continued  to  twinkle  in  various  parts  of  the 
building,  which  sparkle  it  was  that  gleamed  from  the  bower 
of  Alice.  When  the  road  turned  into  another  direction,  he 
sunk  into  a  deep  reverie,  from  which  he  was  at  length  roused 
by  the  voice  of  Lance,  who  demanded  where  he  intended  to 
quarter  for  the  night.  He  was  unprepared  to  answer  the 
question  ;  but  the  honest  keeper  himself  prompted  a  solution 
of  the  problem,  by  requesting  that  he  would  occupy  a  spare 
bed  in  the  lodge,  to  which  Julian  willingly  agreed.  The  rest 
of  the  inhabitants  had  retired  to  rest  when  they  entered  ; 
butDame  Ellesmere,  apprised  by  a  messenger  of  her  nephew's 
hospitable  intent,  had  everything  in  the  best  readiness  she 
could  for  the  son  of  her  ancient  patron.  Peveril  betook  him- 
self to  rest ;  and,  notwithstanding  so  many  subjects  of  anx- 
iety, slept  soundly  till  the  morning  was  far  advanced. 

His  slumbers  were  first  broken  by  Lance,  who  had  been 
long  up,  and  already  active  in  his  service.  He  informed  him 
that  his  horse,  arms,  and  small  cloak-bag  had  been  sent 
from  the  castle  by  one  of  Major  Bridgenorth's  servants,  who 
brought  a  letter,  discharging  from  the  major's  service  the 
unfortunate  Deborah  Debbitch,  and  prohibiting  her  return 
to  the  hall.  The  officer  of  the  House  of  Commons,  escorted 
by  a  strong  guard,  had  left  Martindale  Castle  that  morning 
early,  traveling  in  Sir  Geoffrey's  carriage — his  lady  being  also 
permitted  to  attend  on  him.  To  this  he  had  to  add,  that 
the  property  at  the  castle  was  taken  possession  of  by  Master 


l-EVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  303 

Win-the-Fight,  the  attorney,  from  Chesterfield,  with  other 
officers  of  law,  in  name  of  Major  Bridgenorth,  a  large  credi- 
tor of  the  unfortunate  knight. 

Having  told  these  JoVs  tidings.  Lance  paused  ;  and,  after  a 
moment's  hesitation,  declared  he  was  resolved  to  quit  the 
country  and  go  up  to  London  along  with  his  young  master. 
Julian  argued  the  point  with  him  ;  and  insisted  he  had 
better  stay  to  take  charge  of  his  aunt,  in  case  she  should  be 
disturbod  by  these  strangers.  Lance  replied,  '*She  would 
have  one  with  her  who  would  protect  her  well  enough  ;  for 
there  was  where  withal  to  buy  protection  amongst  them.  But 
for  himself,  he  was  resolved  to  follow  Master  Julian  to  the 
death." 

Julian  heartily  thanked  him  for  his  love. 

"  Nay,  it  is  not  altogether  out  of  love  neither/*  said  Lance, 
*'  though  I  am  as  loving  as  another ;  but  it  is,  as  it  were, 
partly  out  of  fear,  lest  I  be  called  over  the  coals  for  last  night's 
matter  ;  for  as  for  the  miners,  they  will  never  trouble  them, 
as  the  creatures  only  act  after  their  kind.'* 

*'  I  will  write  in  your  behalf  to  Major  Bridgenorth,  who  is 
bound  to  afford  you  protection,  if  you  have  such  fear,'*  said 
Julian. 

'"Nay,  for  that  matter,  it  is  not  altogether  fear,  more  than 
altogether  love,*'  answered  the  enigmatical  keeper;  ^'al- 
though it  hath  a  tasting  of  both  in  it.  And,  to  speak  plain 
truth,  thus  it  is — Dame  Debbitch  and  Naunt  Ellesmere  have 
resolved  to  set  up  their  houses  together,  and  have  made  up 
all  their  quarrels.  And  of  all  ghosts  in  the  world,  the  worst 
is,  when  an  old  true-love  comes  back  to  haunt  a  poor  fellow 
like  me.  Mistress  Deborah,  though  distressed  enow  for  the 
loss  of  her  place,  has  been  already  speaking  of  a  broken  six- 
pence, or  some  such  token,  as  if  a  man  could  remember  such 
things  for  so  many  years,  even  if  she  had  not  gone  over  seas, 
like  a  woodcock,  in  the  meanwhile.*' 

Julian  could  scarce  forbear  laughing.  *  *  I  thought  you 
too  much  of  a  man.  Lance,  to  fear  a  woman  marrying  you 
whether  you  would  or  no." 

"  It  has  been  many  an  honest  man's  luck,  for  all  that," 
said  Lance  ;  '^  and  a  woman  in  the  very  house  has  so  many 
deuced  opportunities.  And  then  there  would  be  two  upon 
one  ;  for  Naunt,  though  high  enough  when  any  of  your  folks 
are  concerned,  hath  some  look  to  the  main  chance ;  and  it 
seems  Mistress  Deb  is  as  rich  as  a  Jew." 

*'  And  you.  Lance,"  said  Julian,  ''have  no  mind  to  marry 
for  cake  and  pudding  ?  " 


304  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''No,  truly,  master,''  answered  Lance,  "  nnless  I  knew 
of  what  dough  they  were  baked.  How  the  devil  do  1  know 
how  the  jade  came  by  so  much  ?  And  then  if  she  speaks  of 
tokens  and  love-passages,  let  her  be  the  same  tight  lass  I 
broke  the  sixpence  with,  and  I  will  be  the  same  true  lad  to 
her.  But  I  never  heard  of  true  love  lasting  ten  years  ;  and 
hers,  if  it  lives  at  all,  must  be  nearer  twenty." 

"Well,  then.  Lance,"  said  Julian,  "since  you  are  resolved 
on  the  thing,  we  will  go  to  London  together ;  where,  if  I 
cannot  retain  you  in  my  service,  and  if  my  father  recovers 
not  these  misfortunes,  I  will  endeavor  to  promote  you  else- 
where." 

"  Nay — nay,"  said  Lance,  "  I  trust  to  be  back  to  bonny 
Martindale  before  it  is  long,  and  to  keep  the  greenwood,  as 
I  have  been  wont  to  do  ;  for,  as  to  Dame  Debbitch,  when 
they  have  not  me  for  their  common  butt,  naunt  and  she 
will  soon  bend  bows  on  each  other.  So  here  comes  old  Dame 
Ellesmere  with  your  breakfast.  I  will  but  give  some  direc- 
tions about  the  deer  to  Eough  Ealph,  my  helper,  and  saddle 
my  forest  pony,  and  your  honor's  horse,  which  is  no  prime 
one,  and  we  will  be  ready  to  trot." 

Julian  was  not  sorry  for  this  addition  to  his  establishment ; 
for  Lance  had  shown  himself,  on  the  preceding  evening,  a 
shrewd  and  bold  fellow,  and  attached  to  his  master.  He 
therefore  set  himself  to  reconcile  his  aunt  to  parting  with 
her  nephew  for  some  time.  Her  unlimited  devotion  for 
"  the  family  "  readily  induced  the  old  lady  to  acquiesce  in 
his  proposal,  though  not  without  a  gentle  sigh  over  the  ruins 
of  a  castle  in  the  air,  which  was  founded  on  the  well-saved 
purse  of  Mistress  Deborah  Debbitch.  "  At  any  rate,"  she 
thought,  "  it  was  as  well  that  Lance  should  be"  out  of  the 
way  of  that  bold,  long-legged,  beggarly  trollop,  Cis  Sellok." 
But  to  poor  Deb  herself,  the  expatriation  of  Lance,  whom 
she  had  looked  to  as  a  sailor  to  a  port  under  his  lee,  for 
which  he  can  run  if  weather  becomes  foul,  was  a  second 
severe  blow,  following  close  on  her  dismissal  from  the  pro- 
fitable service  of  Major  Bridgenorth. 

Julian  visited  the  disconsolate  damsel,  in  hopes  of  gaining 
some  light  upon  Bridgenorth's  projects  regarding  his 
daughter,  the  character  of  this  Ganlesse,  and  other  matters, 
with  which  her  residence  in  the  family  might  have  made 
her  acquainted  ;  but  he  found  her  by  far  too  much  troubled 
in  mind  to  afford  him  the  least  information.  The  name  of 
Ganlesse  she  did  not  seem  to  recollect,  that  of  Alice  rendered 
her  hysterical,  that  of  Bridgenorth  furious.     She  numbered 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  305 

np  the  various  services  she  had  rendered  in  the  family  ;  and 
denounced  the  plague  of  swartness  to  the  linen,  of  leanness 
to  the  poultry,  of  dearth  and  dishonor  to  the  housekeeping, 
and  of  lingering  sickness  and  early  death  to  Alice — all  which 
evils,  she  averred,  had  only  been  kept  off  by  her  continued, 
watchful,  and  incessant  cares.  Then  again  turning  to  the 
subject  of  the  fugitive  Lance,  she  expressed  such  a  total  con- 
tempt of  that  mean-spirited  fellow,  in  a  tone  between  laugh- 
ing and  crying,  as  satisfied  Julian  it  was  not  a  topic  likely 
to  act  as  a  sedative ;  and  that,  therefore,  unless  he  made  a 
longer  stay  than  the  urgent  state  of  his  affairs  permitted, 
he  was  not  likely  to  find  Mistress  Deborah  in  such  a  state 
of  composure  as  might  enable  him  to  obtain  from  her  any 
rational  or  useful  information. 

Lance,  who  good-naturedly  took  upon  himself  the  whole 
burden  of  Dame  Debbitch's  mental  alienation,  or  "  taking 
on,^^  as  such  fits  of  passio  hysterica  are  usually  termed  in 
the  country,  had  too  much  feeling  to  present  himself  before 
the  victim  of  her  own  sensibility  and  of  his  obduracy.  He 
therefore  intimated  to  Julian,  by  his  assistant  Ralph,  that 
the  horses  stood  saddled  behind  the  lodge,  and  that  all  was 
ready  for  their  departure. 

Julian  took  the  hint,  and  they  were  soon  mounted,  and 
clearing  the  road  at  a  rapid  trot  in  the  direction  of  London  ; 
but  not  by  the  most  usual  route.  Julian  calculated  that 
the  carriage  in  which  his  father  was  transported  would  travel 
slowly,  and  it  was  his  purpose,  if  possible,  to  get  to  London 
before  it  should  arrive  there,  in  order  to  have  time  to  con- 
sult with  the  friends  of  his  family  what  measures  should  be 
taken  in  his  fathers  behalf. 

In  this  manner,  they  advanced  a  day^s  journey  towards 
London  ;  at  the  conclusion  of  which,  Julian  found  his  rest- 
ing-place in  a  small  inn  upon  the  road.  No  one  came,  at 
the  first  call,  to  attend  upon  the  guests  and  their  horses, 
although  the  house  was  well  lighted  up ;  and  there  was  a 
prodigious  chattering  in  the  kitchen,  such  as  can  only  be 
produced  by  a  French  cook,  when  his  mystery  is  in  the  Very 
moment  of  projection.  It  instantly  occurred  to  Julian — so 
rare  was  the  ministry  of  these  Gallic  artists  at  that  time — 
that  the  clamor  he  heard  must  necessarily  be  produced  by 
the  Sieur  Chaubert,  on  whose  plats  he  had  lately  feasted, 
along  with  Smith  and  Ganlesse. 

One  or  both  of  these  were  therefore  probably  in  the  little 
inn  ;  and  if  so,  he  might  have  some  opportunitjr  to  discover 
their  real  purpose  and  character.     How  to  avail  himself  of 


306  WAVER..KY    .VOl  it^o 

auch  a  meeting  he  know  not ;  but  chance  favored  him  more 
than  he  could  have  expected. 

''  I  can  scarce  receive  you,  gentlefolks/'  said  the  landlord, 
who  at  length  appeared  at  the  door  ;  **  here  be  a  sort  ol 
quality  in  my  house  to-night  whom  less  than  all  will  not 
satisfy  ;  nor  all  neither,  for  that  matter." 

*' We  are  but  plain  fellows,  landlord, ''  said  Julian;  '*we 
are  bound  for  Mosely  market,  and  can  get  no  farther  to- 
night.    Any  hole  will  serve  us,  no  matter  what." 

*' Why,"  said  the  honest  host,  '^if  that  be  the  case,  I 
must  e'en  put  one  of  you  behind  the  bar,  though  the  gentle- 
men have  desired  to  be  private  ;  the  other  must  take  heart  of 
grace,  and  help  me  at  the  tap." 

'^  The  tap  for  me,"  said  Lance,  without  waiting  his  mas- 
ter's decision.  '*  It  is  an  element  which  I  could  live  and 
die  in." 

"  The  bar,  then,  for  me,"  said  Peveril ;  and  stepping  back, 
whispered  to  Lance  to  exchange  cloaks  with  him,  desirous,  if 
possible,  to  avoid  being  recognized. 

The  exchange  was  made  in  an  instant ;  and  presently  af- 
terwards the  landlord  brought  a  light ;  and  as  he  guided 
Julian  into  his  hostelry,  cautioned  him  to  sit  quiet  in  the 
place  where  he  should  stow  him  ;  and  if  he  was  discovered 
to  say  that  he  was  one  of  the  house,  and  leave  him  to  make 
it  good.  "  You  will  hear  what  the  gallants  say,"  he  added  ; 
**  but  I  think  thou  wilt  carry  away  but  little  on  it ;  for  when 
it  is  not  French  it  is  court  gibberish,  and  that  is  as  hard  to 
construe." 

The  bar,  into  which  our  hero  was  inducted  on  these  con- 
ditions, seemed  formed,  with  respect  to  the  public  room, 
upon  the  principle  of  a  citadel,  intended  to  observe  and  bridle 
a  rebellious  capital.  Here  sat  the  host  on  the  Saturday  even- 
ings, screened  from  the  observation  of  his  guests,  yet  with 
the  power  of  observing  both  their  wants  and  their  behavior, 
and  also  that  of  overhearing  their  conversation — a  practise 
which  he  was  much  addicted  to,  being  one  of  that  numerous 
class  of  philanthropists  to  whom  their  neighbors'  business  is 
of  as  much  consequence,  or  rather  more,  than  their  own. 

Here  he  planted  his  new  guest,  with  a  repeated  caution 
not  to  disturb  the  gentlemen  by  speech  or  motion  ;  and  a 
promise  that  he  should  be  speedily  supplied  with  a  cold 
buttock  of  beef  and  a  tankard  of  home-brewed.  And  here 
he  left  him,  with  no  other  light  than  that  which  glimmered 
from  the  well-illuminated  apartment  within,  through  a  sort  of 
Bhuttle  which  accommodated  the  landlord  with  a  view  into  it 


PBVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  80? 

This  situation,  inconvenient  enough  in  itself,  was,  on  the 
present  occasion,  precisely  what  Julian  would  have  selected. 
He  wrapped  himself  in  the  weather-beaten  cloak  of  Lance 
Outram,  which  had  been  stained,  by  age  and  climate,  into  a 
thousand  variations  of  its  original  Lincoln  green  ;  and,  with 
as  little  noise  as  he  could,  set  himself  to  observe  the  two  in- 
mates, who  had  engrossed  to  themselves  the  whole  of  the 
apartment,  which  was  usually  open  to  the  public.  They  sat 
by  a  table,  well  covered  with  such  costly  rarities  as  could 
only  have  been  procured  by  much  forecast,  and  prepared  by 
the  exquisite  Mons.  Chaubert ;  to  which  both  seemed  to  do 
much  justice. 

Julian  had  little  difficulty  in  ascertaining  that  one  of  the 
travelers  was,  as  he  had  anticipated,  the  master  of  the  said 
Chaubert,  or,  as  he  was  called  by  Ganlesse,  Smith ;  the 
other,  who  faced  him,  he  had  never  seen  before.  This  last 
was  dressed  like  a  gallant  of  the  first  order.  His  periwig, 
indeed,  as  he  traveled  on  horseback,  did  not  much  exceed 
in  size  the  bar-wig  of  a  modern  lawyer  ;  but  then  the  essence 
which  he  shook  from  it  with  every  motion  impregnated  a 
whole  apartment  which  was  usually  only  perfumed  by  that 
vulgar  herb,  tobacco.  His  riding-coat  was  laced  in  the  new- 
est and  most  courtly  style  ;  and  Grammont  himself  might  have 
envied  the  embroidery  of  his  waistcoat,  and  the  peculiar  cut 
of  his  breeches,  which  buttoned  above  the  knee,  permitting 
the  shape  of  every  handsome  leg  to  be  completely  seen. 
This,  by  the  proprietor  thereof,  had  been  stretched  out  upon 
a  stool,  and  he  contemplated  its  proportions,  from  time  to 
time,  with  infinite  satisfaction. 

The  conversation  between  these  worthies  was  so  interest- 
ing, that  we  propose  to  assign  to  it  another  chapter. 


CHAPTEE  XXVII 

This  is  some  creature  of  the  elements, 
Most  like  your  sea-gull.     He  can  wheel  and  whistle 
His  screaming  song  e'en  when  the  storm  is  loudest, 
Take  for  his  sheeted  couch  the  restless  foam 
Of  the  wild  wave-crest,  slumber  in  the  calm. 
And  dally  with  the  storm.     Yet  'tis  a  gull, 
An  arrant  gull,  with  all  this. 

The  Chieftain. 

*'  K^n  here  is  to  thee,"  said  the  fashionable  gallant  whom 
we  have  described,  ^'  honest  Tom  ;  and  a  cup  of  welcome  to 
thee  out  of  Looby -land.  Why,  thou  hast  been  so  long  in  the 
country,  that  thou  hast  got  a  bumpkinly  clod-compelling 
sort  of  look  thyself.  That  greasy  doublet  fits  thee  as  if  it  were 
thine  reserved  Sunday^s  apparel ;  and  the  points  seemed  as  if 
they  were  stay-laces  bought  for  thy  true-love  Marjory.  I 
marvel  thou  canst  still  relish  a  ragout.  Methinks  now,  to  a 
stomach  bound  in  such  a  jacket,  eggs  and  bacon  were  a  diet 
more  conforming." 

''  Eally  away,  my  good  lord,  while  wit  lasts,"  answered  his 
companion  ;  ''  yours  is  not  the  sort  of  ammunition  which  will 
bear  much  expenditure.  Or  rather,  tell  me  news  from  court, 
since  we  have  met  so  opportunely." 

"  You  would  have  asked  me  these  an  hour  ago,"  said  the 
lord,  ''  had  not  your  very  soul  been  under  Chaubert^s  covered 
dishes.  You  remembered  king's  affairs  will  keep  cool,  and 
entremets  must  be  eaten  hot." 

^'  Not  so,  my  lord  ;  I  only  kept  common  talk  whilst  that 
eavesdropping  rascal  of  a  landlord  was  in  the  room  ;  so  that^ 
now  the  coast  is  clear  once  more,  I  pray  you  for  news  from 
court." 

''  The  Plot  is  nonsuited,"  answered  the  courtier,  *'  Sir 
George  Wakeman  acquitted,*  the  witnesses  discredited  by  the 
jury  ;  Scroggs,  who  ranted  on  one  side,  is  now  ranting  on 
t'other." 

'*  Eat  the  Plot,  Wakeman,  witnesses.  Papists,  and  Protes- 
tants all  together  !  Do  you  think  I  care  for  such  trash  as 
^hat  ?    Till  the  Plot  comes  up  the  palace  back-stair  and  gets 

*  See  First  Check  to  the  Plot.    Note  24. 
308 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  309 

possession  of  Old  Kowley's  own  imagination,  I  care  not  a 
farthing  who  believes  or  disbelieves.  I  hang  by  him  will 
bear  me  out/' 

"  Well,  then,*'  said  my  lord,  ^'  the  next  news  is  Eochester's 
disgrace/' 

''  Disgraced  !  How,  and  for  what  ?  The  morning  I  came 
off  he  stood  as  fair  as  any  one." 

*'  That's  over — the  epitaph*  has  broken  his  neck  ;  and  now 
he  may  write  one  for  his  own  court  favor,  for  it  is  dead  and 
buried." 

"  The  epitaph  !  '*  exclaimed  Tom.  "  Why,  I  was  by  when 
it  was  made  ,  and  it  passed  for  an  excellent  good  jest  with 
him  whom  it  was  made  upon." 

**  Ay,  so  it  did  among  ourselves,"  answered  his  companion  ; 
"  but  it  got  abroad,  and  had  a  run  like  a  mill-race.  It 
was  in  every  coffee-house  and  in  half  the  diurnals.  Gram- 
mont  translated  it  into  French  too  ;  and  there  is  no  laughing 
at  so  sharp  a  jest,  when  it  is  dinned  into  your  ears  on  all 
sides.  So,  disgraced  is  the  author  ;  and  but  for  his  Grace  of 
Buckingham,  the  court  would  be  as  dull  as  my  Lord  Chan- 
cellor's wig." 

"  Or  as  the  head  it  covers.  Well,  my  lord,  the  fewer  at 
court,  there  is  the  more  room  for  those  that  can  bustle  there. 
But  there  are  two  main-strings  of  Shaftesbury's  fiddle  broken 
— the  Popish  Plot  fallen  into  discredit,  and  Kochester  dis- 
graced. Changeful  times  ;  but  here  is  to  the  little  man  who 
shall  mend  them." 

'*  I  apprehend  you,"  replied  his  lordship  ;  '^  and  meet  your 
health  with  my  love.  •  Trust  me,  my  lord  loves  you  and  longs 
for  you.  Nay,  I  have  done  you  reason.  By  your  leave,  the 
cup  is  with  me.     Here  is  to  his  buxom  Grace  of  Bucks." 

''  As  blythe  a  peer,"  said  Smith,  "  as  ever  turned  night  to 
day.  Nay,  it  shall  be  an  overflowing  bumper,  and  you  will ; 
and  I  will  drink  it  super  naculum.  And  how  stands  the 
great  Madam  ?  "  f 

*^  Stoutly  against  all  change,"  answered  my  lord.  '*  Little 
Anthony  \  can  make  nought  of  her," 

"  Then  he  shall  bring  her  influence  to  nought.     Hark  in 

thine  ear.     Thou  knowest "  here  he  whispered  so  low  that 

Julian  could  not  catch  the  sound. 

"  Know  him  ?"  answered  the  other — ^'know  Ned  of  the 
Island  ?     To  be  sure  I  do." 

^  See  Eochester's  Epitaph  on  Charles  II.     Note  25.     f  See  Note  26. 
f  Anthony  Ashley  Cooper,  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  the  politician 
and  intriguer  of  the  period. 


810  WA  VEBLE Y  NO  VEL8 

*'  He  is  the  man  that  shall  knot  the  great  fiddle-s  ings 
that  have  snapped.  Say  I  told  you  so;  and  thereupon  I 
give  thee  his  health/' 

^'  And  thereupon  I  pledge  thee/'  said  the  young  noble- 
man, ^'  which  on  any  other  argument  I  were  loth  to  do, 
thinking  of  Ned  as  somewhat  the  cut  of  a  villain/' 

'* Granted,  man — granted/'  said  the  other,  ''a  very 
thorough-paced  rascal,  but  able,  my  lord — able  and  neces- 
sary, and  in  this  plan  indispensable.  Pshaw  !  This  cham- 
pagne turns  stronger  as  it  gets  older,  I  think." 

'^  Hark,  mine  honest  fellow,"  said  the  courtier ;  '*  I 
would  thou  wouldst  give  me  some  item  of  all  this  mystery. 
Thou  hast  it,  I  know  ;  for  whom  do  men  entrust  but  trusty 
Ohiffinch?" 

"  It  is  your  pleasure  to  say  so,  my  lord,"  answered  Smith 
(whom  we  shall  hereafter  call  by  his  real  name  of  Chiffinch), 
with  much  drunken  gravity,  for  his  speech  had  become  a 
little  altered  by  his  copious  libations  in  the  course  of  the 
evening  ;  "  few  men  know  more,  or  say  less,  than  I  do  ;  and 
it  well  becomes  my  station.  Conticuere  omnes,  as  the 
grammar  hath  it :  all  men  should  learn  to  hold  their  tongue." 

'^  Except  with  a  friend,  Tom — except  with  a  friend. 
Thou  wilt  never  be  such  a  dog-bolt  as  to  refuse  a  hint  to  a 
friend  ?  Come,  you  get  too  wise  and  statesmanlike  for  youi 
office.  The  ligatures  of  thy  most  peasantly  jacket  there  are 
like  to  burst  with  thy  secret.  Come,  undo  a  button,  man  ; 
it  is  for  the  health  of  thy  constitution.  Let  out  a  reef ;  and 
let  thy  chosen  friend  know  what  is  meditating.  Thou 
knowest  1  am  as  true  as  thyself  to  little  Anthony,  if  he  can 
but  get  uppermost." 

''If,  thou  lordly  infidel !"  said  Chiffinch  y  '^alk'st  thou 
to  me  of  ifs'^  There  is  neither  if  nor  and  in  the  matter. 
The  great  Madam  shall  be  pulled  a  peg  down — the  great 
Plot  screwed  a  peg  or  two  up.  Thou  knowest  Ned  ? 
Honest  Ned  had  a  brother's  death  to  revenge." 

''  I  have  heard  so,"  said  the  nobleman ;  "  and  that  his 
persevering  resentment  of  that  injury  was  one  of  the  few 
points  which  seemed  to  be  a  sort  of  heathenish  virtue  in 
him." 

"Well,"  continued  Chiffinch,  "in  maneuvering  to  bring 
about  this  revenge,  which  he  hath  labored  at  many  a  day,  he 
hath  discovered  a  treasure/' 

"  What !     In  the  Isle  of  Man  ?"  said  his  companion. 

"  Assure  yourself  of  it.  She  is  a  creature  so  lovely,  that 
she  needs  but  be  seen  to  put  down  every  one  of  the  favor- 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  8H 

ites,  from  Portsmouth  and  Cleveland  down  to  that  three- 
penny baggage.  Mistress  Nelly/' 

*'  By  my  word,  Chiffinch,''  said  my  lord,  "  that  is  a  rein- 
forcement after  the  fashion  of  thine  own  best  tactics.  But 
bethink  thee,  man  !  To  make  such  a  conquest,  there  wants 
more  than  a  cherry  cheek  and  a  bright  eye  :  there  must  be 
wit — wit,  man,  and  manners,  and  a  little  sense  besides,  to 
keep  influence  when  it  is  gotten/' 

'^  Pshaw  !  will  you  tell  me  what  goes  to  this  vocation  ?" 
said  Chiffinch.  "  Here,  pledge  me  her  health  in  a  brimmer. 
Nay,  you  shall  do  it  on  knees,  too.  Never  such  a  trium- 
phant beauty  was  seen.  I  went  to  church  on  purpose,  for  the 
first  time  these  ten  years.  Yet  Hie,  it  was  not  to  church 
neither — it  was  to  chapel." 

''To  chapel  !  What  the  devil,  is  she  a  Puritan?''  ex- 
claimed the  other  courtier. 

"  To  be  sure  she  is.  Do  you  think  I  would  be  accessary 
to  bringing  a  Papist  into  favor  in  these  times,  when,  as  my 
good  lord  said  in  the  House,  there  should  not  be  a  Popish 
man-servant,  nor  a  Popish  maid-servant,  not  so  much  as  dog 
or  cat,  left  to  bark  or  mew  about  the  King  !"  * 

''  But  consider,  Chiffie,  the  dislikelihood  of  her  pleasing," 
said  the  noble  courtier.  *'  What !  Old  Eowley,  with  his 
wit  and  love  of  wit,  his  wildness  and  love  of  wildness — he 
form  a  league  with  a  silly,  scrupulous,  nnidea'd  Puritan ! 
Not  if  she  were  Venus." 

''  Thou  knowest  nought  of  the  matter,"  answered  Chif- 
finch. ''  I  tell  thee,  the  fine  contrast  between  the  seeming 
saint  and  falling  sinner  will  give  zest  to  the  old  gentleman's 
inclinations.  If  I  do  not  know  him,  who  does  ?  Her  health, 
my  lord,  on  your  bare  knee,  as  you  would  live  to  be  of  the 
bedchamber ! " 

''I  pledge  you  most  devoutly,"  answered  his  friend. 
''  But  you  have  not  told  me  how  the  acquaintance  is  to  be 
made  ;  for  you  cannot,  I  think,  carry  her  to  Whitehall." 

*'  Aha,  my  dear  lord,  you  would  have  the  whole  secret ! 
but  that  I  cannot  afford.  I  can  spare  a  friend  a  peep  at  my 
ends,  but  no  one  must  look  on  the  means  by  which  they  are 
achieved/'  So  saying,  he  shook  his  drunken  head  most 
wisely. 

The  villainous  design  which  this  discourse  implied,  and 
which  his  heart  told  him  was  designed  against  Alice  Bridge- 
north,   stirred   Julian   so   extremely   that   he   involuntarily 
shifted  his  posture  and  laid  his  hand  on  his  sword  hilt» 
*  Such  was  the  extravagance  of  Shaftesbury's  eloqueno*. 


812  WA  VERLEY  NO VEL8 

Chiffinch  heard  a  rustling,  and  broke  off,  exclaiming, 
*■"  Hark  !  Zounds,  something  moved.  I  trust  I  have  told  the 
tale  to  no  ears  but  thine/' 

*'  I  will  cut  off  any  which  have  drunk  in  but  a  syllable  of 
thy  words,''  said  the  nobleman  ;  and  raising  a  candle,  he  took 
a  hasty  survey  of  the  apartment.  Seeing  nothing  that  could 
incur  his  menaced  resentment,  he  replaced  the  light  and 
continued  :  *^'Well,  suppose  the  Belle  Louise  de  Querouaille* 
shoots  from  her  high  station  in  the  firmament,  how  will  you 
rear  up  the  down-fallen  Plot  again  ;  for  without  that  same 
Plot,  think  of  it  as  thou  wilt,  we  have  no  change  of  hands, 
and  matters  remain  as  they  were,  with  a  Protestant  courtesan 
instead  of  a  Papist.  Little  Anthony  can  but  little  speed 
without  that  Plot  of  his.  I  believe,  in  my  conscience,  he 
begot  it  himself."  f 

*' Whoever  begot  it,''  said  Chiflanch,  "  he  hath  adopted  it ; 
and  a  thriving  babe  it  has  been  to  him.  "Well,  then,  though 
it  lies  out  of  my  way,  I  will  play  St.  Peter  again — up  with 
t'other  key  and  unlock  t'other  mystery." 

"  Now  thou  speakest  like  a  good  fellow  ;  and  I  will,  with 
my  own  hands,  unwire  this  fresh  flask,  to  begin  a  brimmer 
to  the  success  of  thy  achievement." 

''  Well,  then,'*  continued  the  communicative  Chiffinch, 
**  thou  knowest  that  they  have  long  had  a  nibbling  at  the  old 
Countess  of  Derby.  So  Ned  was  sent  down — he  owes  her  an 
old  accompt,  thou  knowest — with  private  instructions  to 
possess  himself  of  the  island,  if  he  could,  by  help  of  some  of 
his  old  friends.  He  hath  ever  kept  up  spies  upon  her  ;  and 
happy  man  was  he  to  think  his  hour  of  vengeance  was  come 
so  nigh.  But  he  missed  his  blow  ;  and  the  old  girl,  being  placed 
on  her  guard,  was  soon  in  a  condition  tomake  Ned  smoke 
for  it.  Out  of  the  island  he  came  with  little  advantage  for 
having  entered  it ;  when,  by  some  means — for  the  devil,  I 
think,  stands  ever  his  friend — he  obtained  information  con- 
cerning a  messenger,  whom  her  old  Majesty  of  Man  had  sent 
to  London  to  make  party  in  her  behalf.  Ned  stuck  himself 
to  this  fellow — a  raw,  half-bred  lad,  son  of  an  old  blundering 
Cavalier  of  the  old  stamp,  down  in  Derbyshire,  and  so  man- 
aged the  swain,  that  he  brought  him  to  the  place  where 
I  was  waiting,  in  anxious  expectation  of  the  pretty  one  I  told 

*  Charles's  principal  mistress  en  titre.  She  was  created  Duchess  of 
Portsmouth.     (See  Note  26.) 

f  Shaftesbury  himself  is  supposed  to  have  said  that  he  knew  not 
who  was  the  inventor  of  the  Plot,  but  that  he  himself  had  all  the 
advantage  of  the  discovery. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  318 

you  of.  By  St.  Anthony,  for  I  will  swear  by  no  meaner 
oath,  I  stared  when  I  saw  this  great  lout — not  that  the  fellow 
is  so  ill-looked  neither — I  stared  like — like — good  now,  help 
me  to  a  simile."' 

'•  Like  St.  Anthony's  pig,  an  it  were  sleek,"  said  the 
young  lord  ;  *'yonr  eyes,  Chiffie,  have  the  very  blink  of  one. 
But  what  hath  all  this  to  do  with  the  Plot  ?  Hold  ;  I  have 
had  wine  enough/' 

"  You  shall  not  balk  me,"  said  Chiffinch  ;  and  a  jingling 
was  heard,  as  if  he  were  filling  his  comrade's  glass  with  a 
very  unsteady  hand.  "  Hey  !  What  the  devil  is  the  mat- 
ter ?     I  used  to  carry  my  glass  steady — very  steady," 

"  Well,  but  this  stranger  ?" 

^'  Why,  he  swept  at  game  and  ragout  as  he  would  at  spring 
beef  or  summer  mutton.  Never  saw  so  unnurtured  a  cub. 
Knew  no  more  what  he  eat  than  an  infidel.  I  cursed  him 
by  my  gods  when  I  saw  Ohaubert's  cJief-d  muvres  glutted 
down  so  indifferent  a  throat.  We  took  the  freedom  to  spice 
his  goblet  a  little,  and  ease  him  of  his  packet  of  letters  ;  and 
the  fool  went  on  his  way  the  next  morning  with  a  budget 
artificially  filled  with  gray  paper.  Ned  would  have  kept 
him,  in  hopes  to  have  made  a  witness  of  him,  but  the  boy 
was  not  of  that  mettle." 

^'  How  will  you  prove  your  letters  ?"  said  the  courtier. 

''  La  you  there,  my  lord,"  said  Chiffinch  ;  '^  one  may  see 
with  half  an  eye,  for  all  your  laced  doublet,  that  you  have 
been  of  the  family  of  Furnival's,  before  your  brother's  death 
sent  you  to  court.  How  prove  the  letters  ?  Why,  we  have 
but  let  the  sparrow  fly  with  a  string  round  his  foot.  We 
have  him  again  so  soon  as  we  list." 

"  Why,  thou  art  turned  a  very  Machiavel,  Chiffinch,"  said 
his  friend.  ''  But  how  if  the  youth  proved  restive  ?  I  have 
heard  these  Peak  men  have  hot  heads  and  hard  hands." 

*'  Trouble  not  yourself,  that  was  cared  for,  my  lord,"  said 
Chiffinch:  ^'his  pistols  might  bark,  but  they  could  not 
bite." 

*'  Most  exquisite  Chiffinch,  thou  art  turned  micher  as  well 
as  padder.     Canst  both  rob  a  man  and  kidnap  him  ! " 

'^  Micher  and  padder — what  terms  be  these  ?"  said  Chif- 
finch. '^  Methinks  these  are  sounds  to  lug  out  upon.  You 
will  have  me  angry  to  thee  degree  of  falling  foul — robber  and 
kidnapper  ! " 

''You  mistake  verb  for  noun-substantive,"  replied  hia 
lordship  -,  "1  said  roh  and  kidnap — a  man  may  do  either  oncq 
and  away  without  being  professional. '' 


314  WA  VEBLET  NO  VELS 

"  But  not  without  spilling  a  little  foolish  noble  blood,  or 
some  such  red-colored  gear/'  said  Chiffinch,  starting  up. 

"  Oh  yes/'  said  his  lordship ;  "all  this  may  be  without 
these  direful  consequences,  and  so  you  will  find  to-morrow, 
when  you  return  to  England ;  for  at  present  you  are  in  the 
land  of  champagne,  Chiffie  ;  and  that  you  may  continue  so, 
I  drink  thee  this  parting  cup  to  line  thy  night-cap/' 

*'  I  do  not  refuse  your  pledge,"  said  Chiffinch  ;  "  but  I 
drink  to  thee  in  dudgeon  and  in  hostility.  It  is  a  cup  of 
wrath  and  a  gage  of  battle.  To-morrow,  by  dawn,  I  will 
have  thee  at  point  of  fox,  wert  thou  the  last  of  the  Savilles. 
What  the  devil  I  think  you  I  fear  you  because  you  are  a 
lord?'' 

'^  Not  so,  Chiffinch,'^  answered  his  companion.  ''I  know 
thou  fearest  nothing  but  beans  and  bacon,  washed  down  with 
bumpkin-like  beer.  Adieu,  sweet  Chiffinch — to  bed,  Chif- 
finch—to  bed." 

So  saying,  he  lifted  a  candle  and  left  the  apartment.  And 
Chiffinch,  whom  the  last  draught  had  nearly  overpowered, 
had  just  strength  enough  left  to  do  the  same,  muttering,  as 
he  staggered  out,  "  Yes,  he  shall  answer  it.  Dawn  of  day  ! 
D — n  me,  it  is  come  already.  Yonder's  the  dawn.  No, 
d — n  me,  'tis  the  fire  glacning  on  the  cursed  red  lattice.  I 
am  whistle-drunk,  I  think.  This  comes  of  a  country  inn. 
It  is  the  smell  of  the  brandy  in  this  cursed  room.  It  could 
not  be  the  wine.  Well,  Old  Rowley  shall  send  me  no  more 
errands  to  the  country  again.     Steady — steady." 

So  saying,  he  reeled  out  of  the  apartment,  leaving  Peveril 
to  think  over  the  extraordinary  conversation  he  had  just 
heard. 

The  name  of  Chiffinch,  the  well-known  minister  of  Charles's 
pleasures,  was  nearly  allied  to  the  part  which  he  seemed 
about  to  x>lay  in  the  present  intrigue  ;  but  that  Christian, 
whom  he  had  always  supposed  a  Puritan  as  strict  as  his 
brother-in-law  Bridgenorth,  should  be  associated  with  him 
in  a  plot  so  infamous,  seemed  alike  unnatural  and  monstrous. 
The  near  relationship  might  blind  Bridgenorth,  and  warrant 
him  in  confiding  his  daughter  to  such  a  man's  charge  ;  but 
what  a  wretch  he  must  be  that  could  coolly  meditate  such  an 
ignominious  abuse  of  his  trust !  In  doubt  whether  he  could 
credit  for  a  moment  the  tale  which  Chiffinch  had  revealed, 
he  hastily  examined  his  packet,  and  found  that  the  sealskin 
case  in  which  it  had  been  wrapped  up  now  only  contained 
an  equal  quantity  of  waste-paper.  If  he  had  wanted  further 
confirmation,  the  failure  of  the  shot  which  he  had  fired  at 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  815 

Bridgenorth,  and  of  which  the  wadding  only  struck  him, 
showed  that  his  arms  had  been  tampered  with.  He  exam- 
ined the  pistol  which  still  remained  charged,  and  found  that 
the  ball  had  been  drawn.  ''  May  I  perish/^  said  he  to  him- 
self, ''  amid  these  villainous  intrigues,  but  thou  shalt  be  more 
surely  loaded,  and  to  better  purpose  !  The  contents  of  these 
papers  may  undo  my  benefactress  ;  their  having  been  found 
on  me  may  ruin  my  father  ;  that  I  have  been  the  bearer  of 
them  may  cost,  in  these  fiery  times,  my  own  life — that  I  care 
least  for ;  they  form  a  branch  of  the  scheme  laid  against  the 
honor  and  happiness  of  a  creature  so  innocent,  that  it  is  al- 
most a  sin  to  think  of  her  within  the  neighborhood  of  such 
infamous  knaves.  I  will  recover  the  letters  at  all  risks. 
But  how  ?  that  is  to  be  thought  on.  Lance  is  stout  and 
trusty  ;  and  when  a  bold  deed  is  once  resolved  upon,  there 
never  yet  lacked  the  means  of  executing  it.'' 

His  host  now  entered  with  an  apology  for  his  long  absence  ; 
and  after  providing  Peveril  with  some  refreshments,  invited 
him  to  accept,  for  his  night-quarters,  the  accommodation  of 
a  remote  hay-loft,  which  he  was  to  share  with  his  comrade  ; 
professing,  at  the  same  time,  he  could  hardly  have  afforded 
them  this  courtesy,  but  out  of  deference  to  the  exquisite  tal- 
ents of  Lance  Outram,  as  assistant  at  the  tap  ;  where,  indeed, 
it  seems  probable  that  he,  as  well  as  the  admiring  landlord, 
did  that  evening  contrive  to  drink  nearly  as  much  liquor  as 
they  drew. 

But  Lance  was  a  seasoned  vessel,  on  whom  liquor  made 
no  lasting  impression  ;  so  that,  when  Peveril  awaked  that 
trusty  follower  at  dawn,  he  found  him  cool  enough  to  com- 
prehend and  enter  into  the  design  which  he  expressed  of 
recovering  the  letters  which  had  been  abstracted  from  his 
person. 

Having  considered  the  whole  matter  with  much  attention. 
Lance  shrugged,  grinned,  and  scratched  his  head ;  and  at 
length  manfully  expressed  his  resolution.  '*  Well,  my  naunt 
speaks  truth  in  her  old  saw — 

He  that  serves  Peveril  maunna  be  slack, 
Neither  for  weather  nor  yet  for  wrack. 

And  then,  again,  my  good  dame  was  wont  to  say,  that  when- 
ever Peveril  was  in  a  broil,  Outram  was  in  a  stew  ;  so  I  will 
never  bear  a  base  mind,  but  even  hold  a  part  with  you,  as 
my  fathers  have  done  with  yours,  for  four  generations, 
whatever  more.'* 

"  Spoken  like  a  most  gallant  Outram,"  said  Julian ;  "  and 


316  WA  VEBLEY  NO  VELS 

were  we  but  rid  of  that  puppy  lord  and  his  retinire,  we  two 
could  easily  deal  with  the  other  three." 

''Two  Londoners  and  a  Frenchman  ! "  said  Lance.  ''I 
would  take  them  in  mine  own  hand.  And  as  for  my  Lord 
Saville,  as  they  call  him,  I  heard  word  last  night  that  he 
and  all  his  men  of  gilded  gingerbread — that  looked  at  an 
honest  fellow  like  me  as  if  they  were  the  ore  and  I  the  dross 
— are  all  to  be  off  this  morning  to  some  races,  or  such-like 
junketings,  about  Tutbury.  It  was  that  brought  him  down 
here,  where  he  met  this  other  civet-cat  by  accident. ''' 

In  truth,  even  as  Lance  spoke,  a  trampling  was  heard  of 
horses  in  the  yard  ;  and  from  the  hatch  of  their  hay- loft 
they  bedeld  Lord  Saville's  attendants  mustered,  and  ready 
to  set  out  as  soon  as  he  should  make  his  appearance. 

"  So  ho.  Master  Jeremy,"  said  one  of  the  fellows  to  a  sort 
of  principal  attendant,  who  just  came  out  of  the  house, 
"  methinks  the  wine  has  proved  a  sleeping-cup  to  my  lord 
this  morning." 

''No,"  answered  Jeremy,  "he  hath  been  up  before  light, 
writing  letters  for  London  ;  and  to  punish  thy  irreverence, 
thou,  Jonathan,  shalt  be  the  man  to  ride  back  with  them." 

"  And  so  to  miss  the  race  !"  said  Jonathan,  sulkily.  "I 
thank  you  for  this  good  turn,  good  Master  Jeremy  ;  and 
hang  me  if  I  forget  it," 

Further  discussion  was  cut  short  by  the  appearance  of  the 
young  nobleman,  who,  as  he  came  out  of  the  inn,  said  to 
Jeremy,  ''  These  be  the  letters.  Let  one  of  the  knaves  ride 
to  London  for  life  and  death,  and  deliver  them  as  directed  ; 
and  the  rest  of  them  get  to  horse  and  follow  me." 

Jeremy  gave  Jonathan  the  packet  with  a  malicious  smile  ; 
and  the  disappointed  groom  turned  his  horse's  head  sullenly 
towards  London,  while  Lord  Saville  and  the  rest  of  his  ret- 
inue rode  briskly  off  in  an  opposite  direction,  pursued  by 
the  benedictions  of  the  host  and  his  family,  who  stood  bow- 
ing and  courtseying  at  the  door,  in  gratitude,  doubtless,  for 
the  receipt  of  an  unconscionable  reckoning. 

It  was  full  three  hours  after  their  departure  that  Ohiffinch 
lounged  into  the  room  in  which  they  had  supped,  in  a  bro- 
cade nightgown,  and  green  velvet  cap,  turned  up  with  the 
most  costly  Brussels  lace.  He  seemed  but  half  awake  ;  and 
it  was  with  drowsy  voice  that  he  called  for  a  cup  of  cold 
small  beer.  His  manner  and  appearance  were  those  of  a 
man  who  had  wrestled  hard  with  Bacchus  on  the  preceding 
evening,  and  had  scarce  recovered  the  effects  of  his  contest 
with  the  jolly  god.     Lance,  instructed  by  his  master  to 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  817 

watch  the  motions  of  the  courtier,  officiously  attended  with 
the  cooling  beverage  he  called  for,  pleading,  as  an  excuse  to 
the  landlord,  his  wish  to  see  a  Londoner  in  his  morning 
gown  and  cap. 

No  sooner  had  Chiffinch  taken  his  morning  draught  than 
he  inquired  after  Lord  Saville. 

•'  His  lordship  was  mounted  and  away  by  peep  of  dawn,^^ 
was  Lance's  reply. 

"  What  the  devil  :"  exclaimed  Chiffinch  ;  ''^why,  this  is 
scarce  civil.  What  !  off  for  the  races  with  his  whole  ret- 
inue ?" 

*'  All  but  one,''  replied  Lance,  "  whom  his  lordship  sent 
back  to  London  with  letters." 

^'To  London  with  letters!"  said  Chiffinch.  '^  Why,  I 
am  for  London,  and  could  have  saved  his  express  a  labor. 

But  stop — hold — I  begin  to  recoillect ;  d n,  can  I  have 

blabbed  ?  I  have — I  have — I  remember  it  all  now — I  have 
blabbed,  and  to  the  very  weasel  of  the  court,  who  sucks  the 
yolk  out  of  every  man's  secret.  Furies  and  fire — that  my 
afternoons  should  ruin  my  mornings  thus  !  I  must  turn 
boon  companion  and  good  fellow  in  my  cups  ;  and  have  my 
confidences  and  my  quarrels,  my  friends  and  my  enemies, 
with  a  plague  to  me,  as  if  any  one  could  do  a  man  much 
good  or  harm  but  his  own  self  !  His  messenger  must  be 
stopped,  though ;  I  will  put  a  spoke  in  his  wheel.  Hark 
ye,  drawer-fellow,  call  my  groom  hither — call  Tom  Beacon." 

Lance  obeyed  ;  but  failed  not,  when  he  had  introduced 
the  domestic,  to  remain  in  the  apartment,  in  order  to  hear 
what  should  pass  betwixt  him  and  his  master. 

"  Hark  ye,  Tom,"  said  Chiffinch,  '^  here  are  five  pieces  for 
you." 

''  What's  to  be  done  now,  I  trow  ?  "  said  Tom,  without 
even  the  ceremony  of  returning  thanks,  which  he  was  proba- 
bly well  aware  would  not  be  received  even  in  part  payment 
of  the  debt  he  was  incurring. 

''Mount  your  fleet  nag,  Tom — ride  like  the  devil — over- 
take the  groom  whom  Lord  Saville  despatched  to  London 
this  morning — lame  his  horse — break  his  bones — fill  him  as: 
drunk  as  the  Baltic  Sea — or  do  whatever  may  best  and  most 
effectually  stop  his  journey.  Why  does  the  lout  stand  there 
without  answering  me  ?     Dost  understand  me  ?  " 

''Why,  ay,  Master  Chiffinch,"  said  Tom  ;  "and  so  I  am 
thinking  doth  this  honest  man  here,  who  need  not  have 
heard  quite  so  much  of  your  counsel,  an  it  had  been  your 
will." 


318  WA  VERLEY  NO VELS 

"  I  am  bewitched  this  raorning/'  said  Chiffinch  to  himself, 
"  or  else  the  champagne  runs  in  my  head  still.  My  brain 
has  become  the  very  lowlands  of  Holland  :  a  gill  cup  would 
inundate  it.  Hark  thee,  fellow/*  he  added,  addressing  Lance, 
"  keep  my  counsel ;  there  is  a  wager  betwixt  Lord  Saville 
and  me,  which  of  us  shall  first  have  a  letter  in  London. 
Here  is  to  drink  my  health  and  bring  luck  on  my  side.  Say 
nothing  of  it ;  but  help  Tom  to  his  nag.  Tom,  ere  thou 
startest,  come  for  thy  credentials.  I  will  give  thee  a  letter 
to  the  Duke  of  Bucks,  that  may  be  evidence  thou  wert  first 
in  town.'' 

Tom  Beacon  ducked  and  exit ;  and  Lance,  after  having 
made  some  show  of  helping  him  to  horse,  ran  back  to  tell  his 
master  the  joyful  intelligence  that  a  lucky  accident  had 
abated  Chiffinch's  party  to  their  own  number. 

Peveril  immediately  ordered  his  horses  to  be  got  ready ; 
and,  so  soon  as  Tom  Beacon  was  despatched  towards  London 
on  a  rapid  trot,  had  the  satisfaction  to  observed  ChiflSnch, 
with  his  favorite  Ohaubert,  mount  to  pursue  the  same  journey, 
though  at  a  more  moderate  rate.  He  permitted  them  to  attain 
such  a  distance  that  they  might  be  dogged  without  suspi- 
cion ;  then  paid  his  reckoning,  mounted  his  horse,  and  fol- 
lowed, keeping  his  men  carefully  in  view,  until  he  should 
come  to  a  place  proper  for  the  enterprise  which  he  meditated. 

It  had  been  Peveril's  intention  that,  when  they  came  to 
some  solitary  part  of  the  road,  they  should  gradually  mend 
their  pace,  until  they  overtook  Chaubert ;  that  Lance  Out- 
ram  should  then  drop  behind,  in  order  to  assail  the  man  of 
spits  and  stoves,  while  he  himself,  spurring  onward,  should 
grapple  with  Chifl&nch.  But  this  scheme  presupposed  that 
the  master  and  servant  should  travel  in  the  usual  manner — 
the  latter  riding  a  few  yards  behind  the  former.  Whereas, 
such  and  so  interesting  were  the  subjects  of  discussions  be- 
twixt Chiffinch  and  the  French  cook,  that,  without  heeding 
the  rules  of  etiquette,  they  rode  on  together,  amicably  abreast, 
carrying  on  a  conversation  on  the  mysteries  of  the  tabla, 
which  the  ancient  Comus,  or  a  modern  gastronome,  might 
have  listened  to  with  pleasure.  It  was  therefore,  necessary 
to  venture  on  them  both  at  once. 

For  this  purpose,  when  they  saw  a  long  tract  of  road  be- 
fore them,  unvaried  by  the  least  appearance  of  man,  beast, 
or  human  habitation,  they  began  to  mend  their  pace,  that 
they  might  come  up  to  Chiffinch,  without  giving  him  any 
alarm  by  a  sudden  and  suspicious  increase  of  haste.  In  this 
manner,  they  lessened  the  distance  which  separated  them  till 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  818 

they  were  within  about  twenty  yards,  when  Peveril,  afraid 
that  Ohiffinch  might  recognize  him  at  a  nearer  approach,  and 
so  trust  to  his  horse's  heels,  made  Lance  the  signal  to  charge. 

At  the  sudden  increase  of  their  speed,  and  the  noise  with 
which  it  was  necessarily  attended,  Chiffinch  looked  around, 
but  had  time  to  do  no  more,  for  Lance,  who  had  pricked  his 
pony,  which  was  much  more  speedy  than  Julian's  horse,  into 
full  gallop,  pushed,  without  ceremony,  betwixt  the  courtier 
and  his  attendant ;  and  ere  Ohaubert  had  time  for  more 
than  one  exclamation,  he  upset  both  horse  and  Frenchman ; 
^'mortUeu!"  thrilling  from  his  tongue  as  he  rolled  on  the 
ground  amongst  the  various  articles  of  his  occupation,  which, 
escaping  from  the  budget  in  which  he  bore  them,  lay  tumbled 
upon  the  highway  in  strange  disorder  ;  while  Lance,  spring- 
ing from  his  palfrey,  commanded  his  foeman  to  be  still, 
under  no  less  a  penalty  than  that  of  death,  if  he  attempted 
to  rise. 

Before  Chiffinch  could  avenge  his  trusty  follower's  down- 
fall, his  own  bridle  was  seized  by  Julian,  who  presented  a 
pistol  with  the  other  hand,  and  commanded  him  to  stand  or 
die. 

Chiffinch,  though  effeminate,  was  no  coward.  He  stood 
still  as  commanded,  and  said,  with  firmness,  ^'  Kogue,  you 
have  taken  me  at  surprise.  If  you  are  a  highwayman,  there 
is  my  purse.  Do  us  no  bodily  harm,  and  spare  the  budget 
of  spices  and  sauces." 

*' Look  you  Master  Chiffinch,"  said  Peveril,  ^'this  is  no 
time  for  dallying.  I  am  no  highwayman,  but  a  man  of  honor. 
Give  me  back  that  packet  which  you  stole  from  me  the  other 
night ;  or,  by  all  that  is  good,  I  will  send  a  brace  of  balls 
through  you,  and  search  for  it  at  leisure." 

*^  What  night  ?  What  packet  ?  answered  Chiffinch,  con- 
fused ;  yet  willing  to  protract  the  time  for  the  chance  of 
assistance,  or  to  put  Peveril  off  his  guard.  '*  I  know  nothing 
of  what  you  mean.  If  you  are  a  man  of  honor,  let  me  draw 
my  sword,  and  I  will  do  you  right,  as  a  gentleman  should 
do  to  another." 

'^  Dishonorable  rascal ! "  said  Peveril,  "you  escape  not  in 
this  manner.  You  plundered  me  when  you  had  me  at  odds  ; 
and  I  am  not  the  fool  to  let  my  advantage  escape,  now  that 
iny  turn  is  come.  Yield  up  the  packet ;  and  then,  if  you 
will,  I  will  fight  you  on  equal  terms.  But  first,"  he  reiter- 
ated, ^'  yield  up  the  packet,  or  I  will  instantly  send  you  where 
the  tenor  of  your  life  will  be  hard  to  answer  for." 

The  tone  of  Peveril's  voice,  the  fierceness  of  his  eye,  and 


S20  WAVEB1.J1.X  NOVELS 

the  manner  in  which  he  held  the  loaded  weapon,  within  si 
handVbreadth  of  Ohiffinch's  head,  convinced  the  last  there 
was  neither  room  for  compromise  nor  time  for  trifling.  He 
thrust  his  hand  into  a  side-pocket  of  his  cloak,  and  with 
visible  reluctance  produced  those  papers  and  despatches  with 
which  Julian  had  been  entrusted  by  the  Countess  of  Derby. 

'^  They  are  five  in  number,"'  said  Julian  ;  '^  and  you  have 
given  me  only  four.     Your  life  depends  on  full  restitution.'* 

*'  It  escaped  from  my  hand,''  said  Ohiffinch,  producing  the 
missing  document.  '^  There  it  is.  Now,  sir,  your  pleasure 
is  fulfilled,  unless,"  he  added,  sulkily,  "  you  design  either 
murder  or  farther  robbery." 

'^  Base  wretch  ! "  said  Peveril,  withdrawing  his  pistol,  yet 
keeping  a  watchful  eye  on  Ohiffinch's  motions,  ''thou  art 
unworthy  any  honest  man's  sword  ;  and  yet,  if  you  dare 
draw  your  own,  as  you  proposed  but  now,  I  am  willing  to 
give  you  a  chance  upon  fair  equality  of  terms." 

"Equality  !"  said  Ohiffinch,  sneeringly  ;  "yes,  a  proper 
equality — sword  and  pistol  against  single  rapier,  and  two 
men  upon  one,  for  Ohaubert  is  no  fighter.  No,  sir  ;  I  shall 
seek  amends  upon  some  more  fitting  occasion,  and  with  more 
equal  weapons." 

"■  By  backbiting  or  by  poison,  base  pander  !  "  said  Julian  ; 
"  these  are  thy  means  of  vengeance.  But  mark  me — I  know 
your  vile  purpose  respecting  a  lady  who  is  too  worthy  that 
her  name  should  be  uttered  in  such  a  worthless  ear.  Thou 
hast  done  me  one  injury,  and  thou  see'st  I  have  repaid  it. 
But  prosecute  this  farther  villainy,  and  be  assured  I  will  put 
thee  to  death  like  a  foul  reptile,  whose  very  slaver  is  fatal  to 
humanity.  Rely  upon  this,  as  if  Machiavel  had  sworn  it ; 
for  so  surely  as  you  keep  your  purpose,  so  surely  will  I  pro- 
secute my  revenge.  Follow  me.  Lance,  and  leave  him  to 
think  on  what  I  have  told  him." 

Lance  had,  after  the  first  shock,  sustained  a  very  easy  part 
in  this  rencontre  ;  for  all  he  had  to  do  was  to  point  the  butt 
of  his  whip,  in  the  manner  of  a  gun,  at  the  intimidated 
Frenchman,  who,  lying  on  his  back  and  gazing  at  random 
on  the  skies,  had  as  little  the  power  or  purpose  of  resistance 
as  any  pig  which  had  ever  come  under  his  own  slaughter- 
knife. 

Summoned  by  his  master  from  the  easy  duty  of  guarding 
8uch  an  unresisting  prisoner.  Lance  remounted  his  horse, 
and  they  both  rode  off,  leaving  their  discomfited  antagonists 
^  «iOxisole  themselves  for  their  misadventure  as  they  best 
dould.     But  consolation  was  hard  to  come  by  in  the  circum- 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  821 

stances.  The  French  artist  had  to  lament  the  dispersion  of 
his  spices  and  the  destruction  of  his  magazine  of  sauces — an 
enchanter  despoiled  of  his  magic  wand  and  talisman  could 
scarce  have  been  in  more  desperate  extremity.  Chiffinch 
had  to  mourn  the  downfall  of  his  intrigue  and  its  prema- 
ture discovery.  "  To  this  fellow,  at  least/'  he  thought,  *'  I 
can  have  bragged  none  ;  here  my  evil  genius  alone  has  be- 
trayed me.  With  this  infernal  discovery,  which  may  cost 
me  so  dear  on  all  hands,  champagne  had  nought  to  do.  If 
there  be  a  flask  left  unbroken,  1  will  drink  it  after  dinner, 
and  try  if  it  may  not  even  yet  suggest  some  scheme  of 
redemption  and  of  revenge. '' 

With  this  manly  resolution,  he  prosecuted  his  journey  t« 
Loudon. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

A  man  so  various,  that  he  seemed  to  be 
Not  one,  but  all  mankind's  epitome  ; 
Still  in  opinions,  always  in  the  wrong, 
Was  everything  by  starts,  but  nothing  long ; 
Who,  in  the  course  of  one  revolving  moon, 
Was  chemist,  fiddler,  statesman,  and  buffoon  ; 
Then,  all  for  women,  painting,  fiddling,  drinking  ; 
Besides  a  thousand  freaks  that  died  in  thinking. 

Dryden. 

We  must  now  transport  the  reader  to  the  magnificent  hotel 

in Street,  inhabited  at  this  time  by  the  celebrated  George 

Villiers,  Duke  of  Buckingham,  whom  Dryden  has  doomed 
to  a  painful  immortality  by  the  few  lines  which  we  have  pre- 
fixed to  this  chapter.  Amid  the  gay  and  the  licentious  of 
the  laughing  court  of  Charles,  the  duke  was  the  most  licen- 
tious and  most  gay  ;  yet,  while  expending  a  princely  fortune, 
a  strong  constitution,  and  excellent  talents,  in  pursuit  of 
frivolous  pleasures,  he  nevertheless  nourished  deeper  and 
more  extensive  designs  ;  in  which  he  only  failed  from  want 
of  that  fixed  purpose  and  regulated  perseverance  essential 
to  all  important  enterprises,  but  particularly  in  politics. 

It  was  long  past  noon  ;  and  the  usual  hour  of  the  duke's 
levee — if  anything  could  be  termed  usual  where  all  was  ir- 
regular— had  been  long  past.  His  hall  was  filled  with  lackeys 
and  footmen  in  the  most  splendid  liveries,  the  interior  apart- 
ments with  the  gentlemen  and  pages  of  his  household  arrayed 
as  persons  of  the  first  quality,  and,  in  that  respect,  rather 
exceeding  than  falling  short  of  the  duke  in  personal  splendor. 
But  his  ante-chamber,  in  particular,  might  be  compared  to 
a  gathering  of  eagles  to  the  slaughter,  were  not  the  simile 
too  dignified  to  express  that  vile  race  who,  by  a  hundred 
devices,  all  tending  to  one  common  end,  live  upon  the  wants 
of  needy  greatness,  or  administer  to  the  pleasures  of  summer- 
teeming  luxury,  or  stimulate  the  wild  wishes  of  lavish  and 
wasteful  extravagance,  by  devising  new  modes  and  fresh 
motives  of  profusion.  There  stood  the  projector,  with  his 
mysterious  brow,  promising  unbounded  wealth  to  whomsoever 
might  choose  to  furnish  the  small  preliminary  sum  necessary 
to  change  egg-shells  into   the  great  arcanum.     There  was 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  823 

Captain  Seagall,  undertaker  for  a  foreign  settlement,  with 
the  map  under  his  arm  of  Indian  or  American  kingdoms, 
beautiful  as  the  primitive  Eden,  waiting  the  bold  occupants, 
for  whom  a  generous  patron  should  equip  two  brigantines 
and  a  fly-boat.  Thither  came,  fast  and  frequent,  the  game- 
sters, in  their  different  forms  and  calling.  This,  light, 
young,  gay  in  appearance,  the  thoughtless  youth  of  wit  and 
pleasure — the  pigeon  rather  than  the  rook — but  at  heart  the 
same  sly,  shrewd,  cold-blooded  calculator  as  yonder  old 
hard-featured  professor  of  the  same  science,  whose  eyes  are 
grown  dim  with  watching  the  dice  at  midnight,  and  whose 
lingers  are  even  now  assisting  his  mental  computation  of 
chances  and  of  odds.  The  fine  arts,  too — I  would  it  were 
otherwise — have  their  professors  amongst  this  sordid  train. 
The  poor  poet,  half  ashamed,  in  spite  of  habit,  of  the  part 
which  he  is  about  to  perform,  and  abashed  by  consciousness 
at  once  of  his  base  motive  aud  his  shabby  black  coat,  lurks 
in  yonder  corner  for  the  favorable  moment  to  offer  his 
dedication.  Much  better  attired,  the  architect  presents  his 
splendid  vision  of  front  and  wings,  and  designs  a  palace  the 
expense  of  which  may  transfer  his  employer  to  a  jail.  But 
uppermost  of  all,  the  favorite  musician,  or  singer,  who 
waits  on  my  lord  to  receive,  in  solid  gold,  the  value  of  the 
dulcet  sounds  which  solaced  the  banquet  of  the  preceding 
evening. 

Such,  and  many  such  like,  were  the  morning  attendants 
of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham — all  genuine  descendants  of  the 
daughter  of  the  horse-leech,  whose  cry  is  ''  Give — give.'' 

But  the  levee  of  his  Grace  contained  other  and  very  dif- 
ferent characters ;  and  was  indeed  as  various  as  his  own 
opinions  and  pursuits.  Besides  many  of  the  young  nobility 
and  wealthy  gentry  of  England,  who  made  his  Grace  the 
glass  at  which  they  dressed  themselves  for  the  day,  and  who 
learned  from  him  how  to  travel,  with  the  newest  and  best 
grace,  the  general  "  road  to  ruin,''  there  were  others  of  a 
graver  character — discarded  statesmen,  political  spies,  op- 
position orators,  servile  tools  of  administration,  men  who 
met  not  elsewhere,  but  who  regarded  the  duke's  mansion  as 
a  sort  of  neutral  ground,  sure  that,  if  he  was  not  of  their 
opinion  to-day,  this  very  circumstance  rendered  it  most 
likely  he  should  think  with  them  to-morrow.  The  Puritans 
themselves  did  not  shun  intercourse  with  a  man  whose  talents 
must  have  rendered  him  formidable,  even  if  they  had  not 
been  united  with  high  rank  and  an  immense  fortune.  Sev- 
eral grave  personages,  with  black  suits,  short  cloaks,  and 


324  WAVEELET  NOVELS 

bandstrings  of  a  formal  cut,  were  mingled,  as  we  see  their 
portraits  in  a  gallery  of  paintings,  among  the  gallants  who 
ruffled  in  silk  and  embroidery.  It  is  true,  they  escaped  the 
scandal  of  being  thought  intimates  of  the  duke,  by  their 
business  being  supposed  to  refer  to  money  matters.  Whether 
these  grave  and  professing  citizens  mixed  politics  with  money- 
lending  was  not  known  ;  but  it  had  been  long  observed  that 
the  Jews,  who  in  general  confine  themselves  to  the  latter  de- 
partment, had  become  for  some  time  faithful  attendants  at 
the  duke's  levee. 

It  was  high-tide  in  the  ante-chamber,  and  had  been  so  for 
more  than  an  hour,  ere  the  duke's  gentleman  in  ordinary 
ventured  into  his  bedchamber,  carefully  darkened  so  as  to 
make  midnight  at  noonday,  to  know  his  Grace's  pleasure. 
His  soft  and  serene  whisper,  in  which  he  asked  whether  it 
were  his  Grace's  pleasure  to  rise,  was  briefly  and  sharply 
answered  by  the  counter  questions,  "  Who  waits  ?  What's 
o'clock?" 

**  It  is  Jerningham,  your  Grace,"  said  the  attendant.  "  It 
is  one  afternoon  ;  and  your  Grace  appointed- some  of -th0- 
people  without  at  eleven."  dw  to  rvHit/^qz;* 

"  Who  are  they  ?    What  do  they  want  ? "  -  .    ■■  - . 

"  A  message  from  Whitehall,  your  Grace." 

*'  Pshaw  !  it  will  keep  cold.  Those  who  make  all  others 
wait  will  be  the  better  of  waiting  in  their  turn.  Were  I  to 
be  guilty  of  ill-breeding,  it  should  rather  be  to  a  kiiig  than 
a  beggar." 

'*  The  gentlemen  from  the  city." 

*'  I  am  tired  of  them — tired  of  their  all  cant  and  no  relig- 
ion— all  Protestantism  and  no  charity.  Tell  them  to  go  to 
Shaftesbury — to  Aldersgate  Street  with  them — that's  the  best 
market  for  their  wares." 

*' Jockey,  my  lord,  from  Newmarket." 
j.*' Let  him  ride  to  the  devil  ;  he  has  horse  of  mine  and 
spurs  of  his  own.     Any  more  ?  " 

**The  whole  ante-chamber  is  full,  my  lord — knights  and 
squires,  doctors  and  dicers." 

"The  dicers,  with  their  doctors  in  their  pockets,  I  pre- 
sume." 

*'  Counts,  captains,  and  clergymen." 

"  You  are  alliterative,  Jerningham,"  said  the  duke  ;  ''  and 
that  is  a  proof  you  are  poetical.  Hand  me  my  writing- 
things." 

Getting  half  out  of  bed — thrusting  one  arm  into  a  bro- 
cade nightgown,  deeply  furred  with  sables,  and   one  foot 


PtSViiRIL  OF  THE  PEAK  325 

into  a  velvet  slipper,  while  the  other  pressed  in  primitive 
nudity  the  rich  carpet — his  Grace,  without  thinking  farther 
on  the  assembly  without,  began  to  pen  a  few  lines  of  a 
satirical  poem  ;  then  suddenly  stopped — threw  the  pen  into 
the  chimney — exclaimed  that  the  humor  was  past,  and  asked 
his  attendant  if  there  were  any  letters.  Jerningham  pro- 
duced a  huge  packet. 

'^  What  the  devil ! "  said  his  Grace,  ''  do  you  think  I  will 
read  all  these  ?  I  am  like  Clarence,  who  asked  a  cup  of 
wine,  and  was  soused  into  a  butt  of  sack.  I  mean,  is  there 
anything  which  presses  ? " 

**  This  letter,  your  Grace,"  said  Jerningham,  ''  concerning 
the  Yorkshire  mortgage." 

*'  Did  I  not  bid  thee  carry  it  to  old  Gatheral,  my  steward  ?" 

''I  did,  my  lord,"  answered  the  other,  *'but  Gatheral 
says  there  are  difficulties." 

''  Let  the  usurers  foreclose,  then  ;  there  is  no  difficultv  in 
that  ;  and  out  of  a  hundred  manors  I  shall  scarce  miss  one," 
answered  the  duke.  "■  And  hark  ye,  bring  me  my  choco- 
late." 

"  Nay,  my  lord,  Gatheral  does  not  say  it  is  impossible, 
only  difficult."; 

"  And  what  is  the  use  of  him,  if  he  cannot  make  it  easy  ? 
But  you  are  all  born  to  make  difficulties,"  replied  the  duke. 

*'S"ay,  if  your  Grace  approves  the  terms  in  this  schedule, 
and  pleases  to  sign  it,  Gatheral  will  undertake  for  the  mat- 
ter," answered  Jerningham. 

"  And  could  you  not  have  said  so  at  first,  you  blockhead  ?  " 
said  the  duke,  signing  the  paper  without  looking  at  the  con- 
tents. "  What  other  letters  ?  And  remember,  I  must  be 
plagued  with  no  more  business." 

"  Billets-doux,  my  lord — five  or  six  of  them.  This  left  at 
the  porters  lodge  by  a  vizard  mask." 

''Pshaw  !"  answered  the  duke,  tossing  them  over,  while 
his  attendant  assisted  in  dressing  him  ;  *'  an  acquaintance 
of  a  quarterns  standing." 

"  This  given  to  one  of  the  pages  by  my  Lady 's  wait- 
ing-woman." 

"  Plague  on  it !  a  jeremiade  on  the  subject  of  perjury  and 
treachery,  and  not  a  single  new  line  to  the  old  tune,"  said 
the  duke,  glancing  over  the  billet.  *'  Here  is  the  old  cant 
— ^'  cruel  man — broken  vows — Heaven's  just  revenge." 
Why,  the  woman  is  thinking  of  murder,  not  of  love.  No 
one  should  pretend  to  write  upon  so  threadbare  a  topic 
without  having  at  least  some  novelty  of  expression.      *  The 


826  WA  VBBLEY  NOVELS 

despairing  Araminto.'      Lie  there,  fair   desperate.      And 
this — how  comes  it  ?  " 

**  Flung  into  the  window  of  the  hall,  by  a  fellow  who  ran 
off  at  full  speed,''  answered  Jerningham. 

''  This  is  a  better  text,''  said  the  duke  ;  ''and  yet  it  is  an 
old  one  too — three  weeks  old  at  least.  The  little  countess 
with  the  jealous  lord.  I  should  not  care  a  farthing  for  her, 
saye  for  that  same  jealous  lord.  Plague  on't,  and  he's  gone 
down  to  the  country — '  this  evening — in  silence  and  safety 
— written  with  a  quill  pulled  from  the  wing  of  Cupid.* 
Your  ladyship  has  left  him  pen-feathers  enough  to  fly  away 
with  ;  better  clipped  his  wings  when  you  had  caught  him, 
my  lady.  And  *  so  confident  of  her  Buckingham's  faith.' 
I  hate  confidence  in  a  young  person.  She  must  be  taught 
better.     I  will  not  go." 

^'  Your  Grace  will  not  be  so  cruel ! "  said  Jerningham. 

*'  Thou  art  a  compassionate  fellow,  Jerningham ;  but 
conceit  must  be  punished." 

"  But  if  your  lordship  should  resume  your  fancy  for  her  ?  " 

"Why,  then,  you  must  swear  the  billet-doux  miscarried," 
answered  the  duke.  "  And  stay,  a  thought  strikes  me  :  it 
shall  miscarry  in  great  style.  Hark  ye,  is — what  is  the 
fellow's  name — the  poet — is  he  yonder  ?  " 

"  There  are  six  gentlemen,  sir,  who,  from  the  reams  of 
paper  in  their  pocket  and  the  threadbare  seams  at  their 
elbows,  appear  to  wear  the  livery  of  the  Muses. " 

''Poetical  once  more,  Jerningham.  He,  I  mean,  who 
wrote  the  last  lampoon,"  said  the  duke. 

"  To  whom  your  Grace  said  you  owed  five  pieces  and  a 
beating  ?"  replied  Jerningham. 

"  The  money  for  his  satire,  and  the  cudgel  for  his  praise. 
Good — find  him — give  him  the  five  pieces,  and  thrust  the 
countess's  billet-doux — hold — take  Araminta's  and  the  rest 
of  them — thrust  them  all  into  his  portfolio.  All  will  come 
out  at  the  Wits'  Coffee-house  ;  and  if  the  promulgator  be 
not  cudgeled  into  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  there  is  no 
spite  in  woman,  no  faith  in  crabtree,  or  pith  in  heart  of 
oak.  Araminta's  wrath  alone  would  overburden  one  pair  of 
mortal  shoulders." 

"  But,  my  lord  duke,"  said  his  attendant,  "  this  Settle  * 
is  so  dull  a  rascal,  that  nothing  he  can  write  will  take." 

"  Then,  as  we  have  given  him  steel  to  head  the  arrow," 
said  the  duke,  "  we  will  give  him  wings  to  waft  it  with  ; 
wood  he  has  enough  of  his  own  to  make  a  shaft  or  bolt  of 
*n«p/saq  *  See  Note  37.  >'«'"«'*  ^' 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  321 

Hand  me  my  own  unfinished  lampoon  ;  give  it  to  him  with 
the  letters,  let  him  make  what  he  can  of  them  all/* 

My  lord  duke — I  crave  pardon — but  your  Grace's  style 
will  be  discovered  ;  and  though  the  ladies'  names  are  not  at 
the  letters,  yet  they  will  be  traced/* 

"I  would  have  it  so,  you  blockhead.  Have  you  lived 
with  me  so  long,  and  cannot  discover  that  the  Sclat  of  an 
intrigue  is,  with  me,  worth  all  the  rest  of  it  ?  •" 

"  But  the  danger,  my  lord  duke  ?  "  replied  Jeningham. 
**  There  are  husbands,  brothers,  friends,  whose  revenge  may 
be  awakened.*' 

*'  And  beaten  to  sleep  again,"  said  Buckingham,  haugh- 
tily. "  I  have  Black  Will  and  his  cudgel  for  plebeian 
frumblers;*  and  those  of  quality  I  can  deal  with  myself, 
lack  breathing  and  exercise  of  late.** 

"  But  yet  your  Grace— — ■** 

*'  Hold  your  peace,  fool !  I  tell  you  that  your  poor 
dwarfish  spirit  cannot  measure  he  scope  of  mine.  I  tell 
thee  I  would  have  the  course  of  my  life  a  torrent  •  I  am 
weary  of  easy  achievements,  and  wish  for  obstacles,  that  1 
can  sweep  before  my  irresistible  course.*' 

Another  gentleman  now  entered  the  apartment.  *'  I 
humbly  crave  your  Grace's  pardon,"'  he  said  ;  '^  but  Master 
Christian  is  so  importunate  for  admission  instantly,  that  I 
am  obliged  to  take  your  Grace*s  pleasure." 

''  Tell  him  to  call  three  hours  hence.  Damn  his  politic 
pate,  that  would  make  all  men  dance  after  his  pipe  ! " 

''  I  thank  you  for  the  compliment,  my  lord  duke,"  said 
Christian,  entering  the  apartment  in  somewhat  a  more 
courtly  garb,  but  with  the  same  unpretending  and  undis- 
tinguished mien,  and  in  the  same  placid  and  indifferent 
manner  with  which  he  had  accosted  Julian  Peveril  upon 
different  occasions  during  his  journey  to  London.  ''  It  is 
precisely  my  present  object  to  pipe  to  you  ;  and  you  may 
dance  to  your  own  profit,  if  you  will." 

"  On  my  word.  Master  Christian,"  said  the  duke,  haugh- 
tily, "  the  affair  should  be  weighty  that  removes  ceremony 
so  entirely  from  betwixt  us.  If  it  relates  to  the  subject  of 
our  last  conversation,  I  must  request  our  interview  be  post- 
poned to  some  further  opportunity.  I  am  engaged  in  an 
affair  of  some  weight."  Then  turning  his  back  on  Chris- 
tian, he  went  on  with  his  conversation  with  Jerningham. 
**  Find  the  person  you  wot  of,  and  give  him  the  papers ; 

*  See  Employment  of  Assassins  in  England.    Note  38. 


328  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  hark  ye,  give  him  this  gold  to  pay  for  the  shaft  of  his : 
arrow  ;  the  steel-head  and  peacock's  wing  we  have  already 
provided. " 

''This  is  all  well,  my  lord/'  said  Christian,  calmly,  and 
taking  his  seat  at  the  same  time  in  an  easy-chair  at  some 
distance  ;  ''but  your  Grace's  levity  is  no  match  for  my 
equanimity.  It  is  necessary  I  should  speak  with  you  ;  and  X, 
will  await  your  Grace's  leisure  in  the  apartment."  ;|i!t 

"Fery  well,  sir,"  said  the  duke,  peevishly  ;  "if  an  evil  is 
to  be  undergone,  the  sooner  it  is  over  the  better  ;  I  can  take 
measures  to  prevent  its  being  renewed.  So  let  me  hear  your 
errand  without  further  delay." 

"  I  will  wait  till  your  Grace's  toilet  is  completed,"  said 
Christian,  with  the  indifferent  tone  which  was  natural  to 
him.     "What  I  have  to  say  must  be  between  ourselves." 

"  Begone,  Jerningham,  and  remain  without  till  I  call. 
Leave  my  doublet  on  the  couch.  How  now  ?  I  have  worn 
this  cloth  of  silver  a  hundred  times." 

"  Only  twice,  if  it  please  your  Grace,"  replied  Jerningham. 

"As  well  twenty  times;  keep  it  for  yourself,* or  give  it  to 
my  valet,  if  you  are  too  proud  of  your  gentility." 

"  Your  Grace  has  made  better  men  than  me  wear  your  cast 
clothes,"  said  Jerningham,  submissively. 

"Thou  art  sharp,  Jerningham,"  said  the  duke;  "in  one 
sense  I  have,  and  I  may  again.  So  now,  that  pearl-colored 
thing  will  do  with  the  ribbon  and  George.  Get  away  with 
thee.  And  now  that  he  is  gone.  Master  Christian,  may  I 
once  more  crave  your  pleasure  ?" 

"My  lord  duke,"  said  Christian,"  "you  are  a  worshiper  of 
difficulties  in  state  affairs,  as  in  love  matters." 

"I  trust  you  have  been  no  eavesdropper,  Master  Chris- 
tian," replied  the  duke  ;  "it  scarce  argues  the  respect  due 
to  me  or  to  my  roof." 

"I  know  not  what  you  mean,  my  lord,"  replied  Christian. 

"  Nay,  I  care  not  if  the  whole  world  heard  what  I  said 
but  now  to  Jerningham.  But  to  the  matter,"  replied  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham. 

"Your  Grace  is  so  much  occupied  with  conquests  over  the 
fair  and  over  the  witty,  that  you  have  perhaps  forgotten  what 
a  stake  you  have  in  the  little  Island  of  Man." 

"  Not  a  whit.  Master  Christian.  I  remember  well  enough 
that  my  Koundheaded  father-in-law,  Fairfax,  had  tlie  island 
from  the  Long  Parliameift  ;  and  was  ass  enough  to  quit  hold 
of  it  at  the  Restoration,  when,  if  he  had  closed  his  clutches 
and  held  fast,  like  a  true  bird  of ,  prey,  as  he  should  have 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  329 

done,  he  might  have  kept  it  for  him  and  his.  It  had  been  a 
rare  thing  to  have  had  a  little  kingdom — made  laws  of  my 
own — had  my  chamberlain  with  his  white  staff ;  I  would 
have  taught  Jerningham,  in  half  a  day,  to  look  as  wise, 
walk  as  stiffly,  and  speak  as  sillily,  as  Harry  Bennet."* 

''You  might  have  done  this,  and  more,  if  it  had  pleased 
your  Grace/' 

''Ay,  and  if  it  had  pleased  my  Grace,  thou,  Ned  Christian, 
shouldst  have  been  the  Jack  Ketch  of  my  dominions." 

"/your  Jack  Ketch,  my  lord  ?"  said  Christian,  more  in  a 
tone  of  surprise  than  of  displeasure. 

"  Why,  ay  ;  thou  hast  been  perpetually  intriguing  against 
the  life  "of  yonder  poor  old  woman.  It  were  a  kingdom  to 
thee  to  gratify  thy  spleen  with  thy  own  hands." 

"  I  only  seek  justice  against  the  countess,"  said  Christian. 

"And  the  end  of  justice  is  always  a  gibbet,"  said  the  duke. 

'^  Be  it  so."  answered  Christian.  "  Well,  the  countess  is 
in  the  Plot." 

"The  devil  confound  the  Plot,  as  I  believe  he  first  in- 
vented it ! "  said  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  ;  "  I  have  heard 
of  nothing  else  for  months.  If  one  must  go  to  hell,  I  would 
it  were  by  some  new  road,  and  in  gentlemen's  company.  I 
should  not  like  to  travel  with  Gates,  Bedloe,  and  the  rest  of 
that  famo'us  cloud  of  witnesses." 

"  Your  grace  is  then  resolved  to  forego  all  the  advantages 
which  may  arise  T  If  the  house  of  Derby  fall  under  for- 
feiture, the  grant  to  Fairfax,  now  worthily  represented  by 
your  duchess,  revives ;  and  you  become  the  lord  and  sov- 
ereign of  Man." 

"  In  right  of  a  woman,"  said  the  duke  ;  "  but,  in  troth  my 
godly  dame  owes  me  some  advantage  for  having  lived  the 
first  year  of  our  marriage  with  her  and  old  Black  Tom,  her 
grim,  fighting,  Puritanic  father.  A  man  might  as  well  have 
married  the  devil's  daughter,  and  set  up  housekeeping  with 
his  father-in-law."  t 

"I  understand  you  are  willing,  then,  to  join  your  interest 
for  a  heave  at  the  house  of  Derby,  my  Lord  Duke  ?" 

"As  they  are  unlawfully   possessed   of   my   wife's   king- 
dom, they  certainly  can  expect  no  favor  at  my  hand.     But 
thou  knowest  there  is  an  interest  at  Whitehall  predominant 
•  mine." 
That  is  only  by  your  Grace's  sufferance, "said  Christian. 

<*  ]j^o — no  ;  I  tell  thee  a  hundred  times  no,"  said  the  duke, 

*  See  Earl  of  Arlington.     Note  29. 

\  See  Buckingham's  Father-in-law.    Note  30. 


330  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

rousing  himself  to  anger  at  the  recollection.  "  I  tell  thee 
that  base  courtesan,  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  hath  im- 
pudently set  herself  to  thwart  and  contradict  me  ;  and  Charles 
has  given  me  both  cloudy  looks  and  hard  words  before  the 
court.  I  would  he  could  but  guess  what  is  the  offense  be- 
tween her  and  me  !  I  would  he  but  knew  that  !  But  I  will 
have  her  plumes  plucked,  or  my  name  is  not  Villiers.  A 
worthless  French  JiUe-de-joie  to  brave  me  thus  !  Christian, 
thou  art  right  :  there  is  no  passion  so  spirit-stirring  as  re- 
venge. I  will  patronize  the  Plot,  if  it  be  but  to  spite  her, 
and  make  it  impossible  for  the  King  to  uphold  her.'' 

As  the  duke  spoke,  he  gradually  wrought  himself  into  a 
passion,  and  traversed  the  apartment  with  as  much  vehe- 
mence as  if  the  only  object  he  had  on  earth  was  to  deprive 
the  duchess  of  her  power  and  favor  with  the  King.  Christian 
smiled  internally  to  see  him  approaching  fhe  state  of  mind 
in  which  he  was  most  easily  worked  upon,  and  judiciously 
kept  silence,  until  the  duke  called  out  to  him  in  a  pet, 
*' Well,  Sir  Oracle,  you  that  have  laid  so  many  schemes  to 
supplant  this  she-wolf  of  Gaul,  where  are  all  your  contriv- 
ances now  ?  Where  is  the  exquisite  beauty  who  was  to  catch 
the  sovereign's  eye  at  the  first  glance  ?  Chiffinch,  hath  he 
seen  her  ?  and  what  does  he  say,  that  exquisite  critic  in 
beauty  and  blanc-mange,  women  and  wine  ? 

"  He  has  seen  and  approves,  but  has  not  yet  heard  her  ; 
and  her  speech  answers  to  all  the  rest.  We  came  here  yes- 
terday ;  and  to-day  I  intend  to  introduce  Chiffinch  to  her,  the 
instant  he  arrives  from  the  country  ;  and  I  expect  him  every 
hour.  I  am  but  afraid  of  the  damsel's  peevish  virtue, 
for  she  hath  been  brought  up  after  the  fashion  of  out 
grandmothers ;  our  mothers  had  better  sense." 

''  What  !  so  fair,  so  young,  so  quick-witted,  and  so  diffi- 
cult ?"  said  the  duke.  ^^  By  your  leave,  you  shall  introduce 
me  as  well  as  Chiffinch." 

*'  That  your  Grace  may  cure  her  of  her  intractable 
modesty  ?  "  said  Christian. 

*'  Why,"  replied  the  duke,  *'  it  will  but  teach  her  to  stand 
in  her  own  light.  Kings  do  not  love  to  court  and  sue  ;  they 
should  have  their  game  run  down  for  them." 

**  Under  your  Grace's  favor,"  said  Christian,  ''  this  cannot 
be.  Non  omnibus  dormio — your  Grace  knows  the  classic 
allusion.  If  this  maiden  become  a  prince's  favorite,  rank 
gilds  the  shame  and  the  sin.  But  to  any  under  Majesty  she 
must  not  vail  topsail."' 

"  Why,  thou  suspicious  fool,  I  was  but  in  jest,"  said  the 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  33t 

duke.  "  Do  you  think  I  would  interfere  to  spoil  a  plan  so 
much  to  my  own  advantage  as  that  which  you  have  laid 
before  me  ?  " 

Christian  smiled  and  shook  his  head.  *'  My  lord/'  he 
said,  ^'^I  know  your  G-race  as  well,  or  better  perhaps,  than 
you  know  yourself.  To  spoil  a  well-concerted  intrigue  by 
some  cross  stroke  of  your  own  would  give  you  more  pleasure 
than  to  bring  it  to  a  successful  termination  according  to  the 
plans  of  others.  But  Shaftesbury,  and  all  concerned,  have 
determined  that  our  scheme  shall  at  least  have  fair  play. 
We  reckon,  therefore,  on  your  help  ;  and — forgive  me  when 
I  say  so — we  will  not  permit  ourselves  to  be  impeded  by  your 
levity  and  fickleness  of  purpose.  *' 

*'  Who  ?  /light  and  fickle  of  purpose  ?  "  said  the  duke. 
*' You  see  me  here  as  resolved  as  any  of  you  to  dispossess  the 
mistress  and  to  carry  on  the  Plot ;  these  are  the  only  two 
things  I  live  for  in  this  world.  No  one  can  play  the  man 
of  business  like  me  when  I  please,  to  the  very  filing  and 
labeling  of  my  letters.     I  am  regular  as  a  scrivener. '' 

''  You  have  Ohiffinch's  letter  from  the  country  ;  he  told 
me  he  had  written  to  you  about  some  passages  betwixt  him 
and  the  young  Lord  Saville.'' 

"  He  did  so — he  did  so,''  said  the  duke,  looking  among 
his  letters  ;  ''but  I  see  not  his  letter  just  now.  I  scarcely 
noted  the  contents — I  was  busy  when  it  came ;  but  I  have  it 
safely." 

"You  should  have  acted  on  it,"  answered  Christian. 
'*  The  fool  suffered  himself  to  be  choused  out  of  his  secret, 
and  prayed  you  to  see  that  my  lord's  messenger  got  not  to 
the  Duchess  with  some  despatches  which  he  sent  up  from 
Derbyshire,  betraying  our  mystery." 

The  duke  was  now  alarmed,  and  rang  the  bell  hastily. 
Jerningham  appeared.  ''Where  is  the  letter  I  had  from 
Master  Chiffinch  some  hours  since  ?  " 

"  If  it  be  not  amongst  those  your  Grace  has  before  you,  I 
know  nothing  of  it,"  said  Jerningham.  "  I  saw  none  such 
arrive." 

"  You  lie,  you  rascal,"  said  Buckingham ;  "  have  you  a 
right  to  remember  better  than  I  do  ?  " 

"  If  your  Grace  will  forgive  me  reminding  you,  you  have 
scarce  opened  a  letter  this  week,"  said  his  gentleman. 

"Did  you  ever  hear  such  a  provoking  rascal !"  said  the 
duke.  "  He  might  be  a  witness  in  the  Plot.  He  has 
knocked  my  character  for  regularity  entirely  on  the  head 
with  his  damned  counter-evidence," 


882  WA  VERLET  NO  VELS 

"  Your  Grace's  talent  and  capacity  will  at  least  remain 
unimpeached/'  said  Christian ;  and  it  is  those  that  must 
serve  yourself  and  your  friends.  If  I  might  advise,  you  will 
hasten  to  court,  and  lay  some  foundation  for  the  impression 
we  wish  to  make.  If  your  Grace  can  take  the  first  word, 
and  throw  out  a  hint  to  cross-bite  Saville,  it  will  be  well. 
But  above  all,  keep  the  King^s  ear  employed,  which  no  one 
can  do  so  well  as  you.  Leave  Chiffinch  to  fill  his  heart  with 
a  proper  object.  Another  thing  is,  there  is  a  blockhead  ol 
an  old  Cavalier,  who  must  needs  be  a  bustler  in  the  Countess 
of  Derby^s  behalf  ;  he  is  fast  in  hold,  with  the  whole  tribe 
of  witnesses  at  his  haunches.'' 

"Nay,  then,  take  him,  Topham." 

"  Topham  has  taken  him  already,  my  lord,'*  said  Chris- 
tian ;  "and  there  is,  beside,  a  young  gallant,  a  son  of  the 
said  knight,  who  was  bred  in  the  household  of  the  Countess 
of  Derby,  and  who  has  brought  letters  from  her  to  the  Pro- 
vincial of  the  Jesuits  and  others  in  London." 

"  What  are  their  names  ?  "  said  the  duke,  drily. 

"  Sir  Geoffrey  Peverilof  Martindale  Castle,  in  Derbyshire, 
and  his  son  Julian." 

"  What !  Peveril  of  the  Peak  ?  "  said  the  duke—"  a  stout 
old  Cavalier  as  ever  swore  an  oath.  A  Worcester  man, 
too,  and,  in  truth,  a  man  of  all  work,  when  blows  were 
going  ?  I  will  not  consent  to  his  ruin.  Christian.  These 
fellows  must  be  flogged  off  such  false  scents  ;  flogged  in 
every  sense,  they  must,  and  will  be,  when  the  nation  comes 
to  its  eyesight  again." 

"  It  is  of  more  than  the  last  importance,  in  the  mean  time, 
to  the  furtherance  of  our  plan,"  said  Christian,  "  that  your 
Grace  should  stand  for  a  space  between  them  and  the  King's 
favor.  The  youth  hath  influence  with  the  maiden,  which 
we  should  find  scarce  favorable  to  our  views  ;  besides,  her 
father  holds  him  as  high  as  he  can  any  one  who  is  no  such 
Puritanic  fool  as  himself." 

"Well,  most  Christian  Christian,"  said  the  duke,  "  I  have 
heard  your  commands  at  length.  I  will  endeavor  to  stop 
the  earths  under  the  throne,  that  neither  the  lord,  knight, 
nor  squire  in  question  shall  find  it  possible  to  burrow  there. 
For  the  fair  one,  I  must  leave  Chiffinch  and  you  to  manage 
her  introduction  to  her  high  destinies,  since  I  am  not  to  be 
trusted.     Adieu,  most  Christian  Christian." 

He  fixed  his  eyes  on  him,  and  then  exclaimed,  as  he  shut 
the  door  of  the  apartment — "  Most  profligate  and  damnable 
villain  !     And  what  provokes  me  most  of  all  is  the  knave's 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  333 

composed  insolence.  '  Your  Grace  will  do  this  '  and  '  Your 
Grace  will  condescend  to  do  that/  A  pretty  puppet  I  should 
be,  to  play  the  second  part,  or  rather  the  third,  in  such  a 
scheme  I  No,  they  shall  all  walk  according  to  my  pur- 
pose, or  I  will  cross  them.  I  will  find  this  girl  out  in  spite 
of  them,  and  judge  if  their  scheme  is  likely  to  be  success- 
ful. If  so,  she  shall  be  mine — mine  entirely,  before  she  be- 
comes the  King^s  ;  and  I  will  command  her  who  is  to  guide 
Charles.  Jerningham  *  (his  gentleman  entered),  cause 
Christian  to  be  dogged  wherever  he  goes  for  the  next  four- 
and-twenty  hours,  and  find  out  where  he  visits  a  female 
newly  come  to  town.     You  smile,  you  knave  " 

''I  did  but  suspect  a  fresh  rival  to  Araminta  and  the  little 
countess,^'  said  Jerningham. 

"  Away  to  your  business,  knave/'  said  the  duke,  ''and  let 
me  think  of  mine.  To  subdue  a  Puritan  in  esse,  a  king's 
favorite  in  posse — the  very  muster  of  western  beauties — that 
is  point  first.  The  impudence  of  this  Manx  mongrel  to  be 
corrected — the  pride  of  Madame  la  Duchesse  to  be  pulled 
down — an  important  state  intrigue  to  be  furthered,  or 
baffled,  as  circumstances  render  most  to  my  own  honor  and 
glory — I  wished  for  business  but  now,  and  I  have  got  enough 
of  it.  But  Buckingham  will  keep  his  own  steerage-way 
through  shoal  and  through  weather.'' 

*  See  Letter  from  the  Dead  to  the  Living.    Note  81, 


)OXi(q 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

Mark  you  this,  Bassanio — 
The  devil  can  quote  Scripture  for  his  purpose. 

Merchant  of  Venice, 

After  leaving  the  proud  mansion  of  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, Christian,  full  of  the  deep  and  treacherous  schemes 
which  he  meditated,  hastened  to  the  city,  where,  in  a  decent 
inn,  kept  by  a  person  of  his  own  persuasion,  he  had  been 
unexpectedly  summoned  to  meet  with  Ralph  Bridgenorth  of 
Moultrassie.  He  was  not  disappointed  :  the  major  had  ar- 
rived that  morning,  and  anxiously  expected  him.  The  usual 
gloom  of  his  countenance  was  darkened  into  a  yet  deeper 
shade  of  anxiety,  which  was  scarcely  relieved  even  while,  in 
answer  to  his  inquiry  after  his  daughter.  Christian  gave  the 
most  favorable  account  of  her  health  and  spirits,  naturally 
and  unaffectedly  intermingled  with  such  praises  of  her  beauty 
and  her  disposition  as  were  likely  to  be  most  grateful  to  a 
father's  ear. 

But  Christian  had  too  much  cunning  to  expatiate  on  this 
theme,  however  soothing.  He  stopped  short  exactly  at  the 
point  where,  as  an  afiectionate  relative,  he  might  be  supposed 
to  have  said  enough.  "The  lady,'' he  said,  "with  whom 
he  had  placed  Alice  was  delighted  with  her  aspect  and  man- 
ners, and  undertook  to  be  responsible  for  her  health  and 
happiness.  He  had  not,"  he  said,  "  deserved  so  little  confi- 
dence at  the  hand  of  his  brother  Bridgenorth,  as  that  the 
major  should,  contrary  to  his  purpose  and  to  the  plan  which 
they  had  adjusted  together,  have  hurried  up  from  the 
country,  as  if  his  own  presence  were  necessary  for  Alice's 
protection.'* 

"  Brother  Christian,"  said  Bridgenorth  in  reply,  "  I  must 
see  my  child — I  must  see  this  person  with  whom  she  is 
entrusted." 

"  To  what  purpose  ?  "  answered  Christian.  "  Have  you 
not  often  confessed  that  the  over  excess  of  the  carnal  affec- 
tion which  you  have  entertained  for  your  daughter  hath 
been  a  snare  to  you  ?  Have  you  not,  more  than  once,  been 
on  the  point  of  resigning  those  great  designs  which  should 
place  righteousness  as  a  counselor  beside  the  throne,  be- 

334 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  335 

cause  you  desired  to  gratify  your  daughter's  girlish  passion 
for  this  descendant  of  your  old  persecutor — this  Julian 
Peveril?'' 

"  I  own  it/'  said  Bridgenorth  ;  *'  and  worlds  would  I  have 
given,  and  would  yet  give,  to  clasp  that  youth  to  my  bosom 
and  call  him  my  son.  The  spirit  of  his  mother  looks  from  his 
eye,  and  his  stately  step  is  as  that  of  his  father,  when  he  daily 
spoke  comfort  to  me  in  my  distress,  and  said,  '  The  child 
iiveth/'' 

*'  But  the  youth  walks,''  said  Christian,  ''  after  his  own 
lights,  and  mistakes  the  meteor  of  the  marsh  for  the  Polar 
star.  Ealph  Bridgenorth,  I  will  speak  to  thee  in  friendly 
sincerity.  Thou  must  not  think  to  serve  both  the  good 
cause  and  Baal.  Obey,  if  thou  wilt,  thine  own  carnal  affec- 
tions :  summon  this  Julian  Peveril  to  thy  house,  and  let  him 
wed  thy  daughter  ;  but  mark  the  reception  she  will  meet 
with  from  the  proud  old  knight,  whose  spirit  is  now,  even 
now,  as  little  broken  with  his  chains  as  after  the  sword  of 
the  saints  had  prevailed  at  Worcester.  Thou  wilt  see  thy 
daughter  spurned  from  his  feet  like  an  outcast." 

''  Christian,"  said  Bridgenorth,  interrupting  him,  ''  thou 
dost  urge  me  hard ;  but  thou  dost  it  in  love,  my  brother, 
and  I  forgive  thee.  Alice  shall  never  be  spurned.  But  this 
friend  of  thine — this  lady — thou  art  my  child's  uncle,  and, 
after  me,  thou  art  next  to  her  in  love  and  affection — still, 
thou  art  not  her  father — hast  not  her  father's  fears — art 
thou  sure  of  the  character  of  this  woman  to  whom  my  child 
is  entrusted  ?  " 

*'  Am  I  sure  of  my  own  ?  Am  I  sure  that  my  name  is 
Christian,  yours  Bridgenorth  ?  Is  it  a  thing  I  am  likely  to 
be  insecure  in  ?  Have  I  not  dwelt  for  many  years  in  this 
city  ?  Do  I  not  know  this  court  ?  And  am  I  likely  to  be 
imposed  upon  ?  For  I  will  not  think  you  can  fear  my 
imposing  upon  you." 

''  Thou  art  my  brother,"  said  Bridgenorth,  'Hhe  blood  and 
bone  of  my  departed  saint ;  and  I  am  determined  that  I  will 
trust  thee  in  this  matter." 

**  Thou  dost  well,"  said  Christian  ;  ''  and  who  knows  what 
reward  may  be  in  store  for  thee  ?  I  cannot  look  upon  Alice 
but  it  is  strongly  borne  in  on  my  mind  that  there  will  be 
work  for  a  creature  so  excellent  beyond  ordinary  women. 
Courageous  Judith  freed  Bethulia  by  her  valor,  and  the 
comely  features  of  Esther  made  her  a  safeguard  and  a  defense 
to  her  people  in  the  land  of  captivity,  when  she  found  favor 
in  the  sight  of  King  Ahasuerus." 


836  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

"  Be  it  with  her  as  Heaven  wills,"  said  Bridgenorth  ; 
'*  and  now  tell  me  what  progress  there  is  in  the  great  work/* 

"  The  people  are  weary  of  the  iniquity  of  this  court,"  said 
Christian  ;  '^  and  if  this  man  will  continue  to  reign,  it  must 
be  by  calling  to  his  councils  men  of  another  stamp.  The 
alarm  excited  by  the  damnable  practises  of  the  Papists  has 
called  up  men's  souls,  and  awakened  their  eyes,  to  the  dan- 
gers of  their  state.  He  himself — for  he  will  give  up  brother 
and  wife  to  save  himself — is  not  averse  to  a  change  of  meas- 
ures ;  and  though  we  cannot  at  first  see  the  court  purged 
as  with  a  winnowing  fan,  yet  there  will  be  enough  of  the 
good  to  control  the  bad — enough  of  the  sober  party  to  com- 
pel the  grant  of  that  universal  toleration  for  which  we  have 
sighed  so  long,  as  a  maiden  for  her  beloved.  Time  and 
opportunity  will  lead  the  way  to  more  thorough  reformation  ; 
and  that  will  be  done  without  stroke  of  sword  which  our 
friends  failed  to  establish  on  a  sure  foundation,  even  when 
their  victorious  blades  were  in  their  hands." 

''  May  God  grant  it ! "  said  Bridgenorth  ;  '^  for  I  fear  me 
I  should  scruple  to  do  aught  which  should  once  more  un- 
sheath  the  civil  sword  ;  but  welcome  all  that  comes  in  a 
peaceful  and  parliamentary  way." 

^'  Ay,"  said  Christian,  '*  and  which  will  bring  with  it  the 
bitter  amends  which  our  enemies  have  so  long  merited  at 
our  hands.  How  long  hath  our  brother's  blood  cried  for 
vengeance  from  the  altar  !  Now  shall  that  cruel  French- 
woman find  that  neither  lapse  of  years,  nor  her  powerful 
friends,  nor  the  name  of  Stanley,  nor  the  sovereignty  of 
Man,  shall  stop  the  stern  course  of  the  pursuer  of  blood. 
Her  name  shall  be  struck  from  the  noble,  and  her  heritage 
shall  another  take." 

"  Nay,  but,  brother  Christian,"  said  Bridgenorth,  ^'  art 
thou  not  over  eager  in  pursuing  this  thing  ?  It  is  thy  duty 
as  a  Christian  to  forgive  thine  enemies." 

"  Ay,  but  not  the  enemies  of  Heaven — not  those  who  shed 
the  blood  of  the  saints,"  said  Christian,  his  eyes  kindling 
with  that  vehement  and  fiery  expression  which  at  times  gave 
to  his  uninteresting  countenance  the  only  character  of  pas- 
sion which  it  ever  exhibited.  "  No,  Bridgenorth,"  he  con- 
tinued, "I  esteem  this  purpose  of  revenge  holy — I  account 
it  a  propitiatory  sacrifice  for  what  may  have  been  evil  in  my 
life.  I  have  submitted  to  be  spurned  by  the  haughty — I 
have  humbled  myself  to  be  as  a  servant ;  but  in  my  breast 
was  the  proud  thought,  ''I  who  do  this,  do  it  that  I  may 
avenge  my  brother's  blood." ' 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  837 

*'  Still,  my  brother/'  said  Bridgenorth,  ''  although  I  parti- 
cipate thy  purpose,  and  have  aided  thee  against  this  Moabi- 
tish  woman,  I  cannot  but  think  thy  revenge  is  more  after 
the  law  of  Moses  thun  after  the  law  of  love/^ 

**  This  comes  wek  from  thee,  Ealph  Bridgenorth,'*  an- 
swered Christian — ''  from  thee,  who  hast  just  smiled  over 
the  downfall  of  thine  own  enemy  ! " 

**  If  you  mean  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,*'  said  Bridgenorth, 
"  I  smile  not  on  his  ruin.  It  is  well  he  is  abased  ;  but  if  it 
lies  with  me,  I  may  humble  his  pride,  but  will  never  ruin  his 
house/' 

''You  know  your  purpose  best/*  said  Christian,  ''and  I 
do  justice,  brother  Bridgenorth,  to  the  purity  of  your  prin- 
ciples ;  but  men  who  see  with  but  worldly  eyes  would  discern 
little  parpose  of  mercy  in  the  strict  magistrate  and  severe 
creditor,  and  such  have  you  been  to  Peveril/' 

"  And,  brother  Christian,''  said  Bridgenorth,  his  color 
rising  as  he  spoke,  "  neither  do  I  doubt  your  purpose,  nor 
deny  the  surprising  address  with  which  you  have  procured 
such  perfect  information  concerning  the  purposes  of  yonder 
woman  of  Amnion  ;  but  it  is  free  to  me  to  think  that,  in 
your  intercourse  with  the  court  and  with  courtiers,  you  may, 
in  your  carnal  and  worldly  policy,  sink  the  value  of  those 
spiritual  gifts  for  which  you  were  once  so  much  celebrated 
among  the  brethren/' 

"Do  not  apprehend  it,"  said  Christian,  recovering  his 
temper,  which  had  been  a  little  ruffled  by  the  previous  dis- 
cussion. "  Let  us  but  work  together  as  heretofore  ;  and  I 
trust  each  of  us  shall  be  found  doing  the  work  of  a  faithful 
servant  to  that  good  old  cause  for  which  we  have  heretofore 
drawn  the  sword." 

So  saying,  he  took  his  hat,  and  bidding  Bridgenorth  fare- 
well, declared  his  intention  of  returning  in  the  evening. 

" Fare  thee  well  ! "  said  Bridgenorth  ;  "to  that  cause 
wilt  thou  find  me  ever  a  true  and  devoted  adherent.  I  will 
act  by  that  counsel  of  thine,  and  will  not  even  ask  thee — 
though  it  may  grieve  my  heart  as  a  parent — with  whom,  or 
where,  thou  hast  entrusted  my  child.  I  will  try  to  cut  off 
and  cast  from  me  even  my  right  hand  and  my  right  eye ; 
but  for  thee.  Christian,  if  thou  dost  deal  otherwise  than  pru- 
dently and  honestly  in  this  matter,  it  is  what  God  and  man 
will  require  at  thy  hand." 

"  Fear  not  me,"  said  Christian,  hastily,  and  left  the  place, 
agitated  by  reflections  of  no  pleasant  kind. 

"  I  ought  to  have  persuaded  him  to  return,"  he  said,  as 


338  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

he  stepped  out  into  the  street.  "  Even  his  hovering  in  this 
neighborhood  may  spoil  the  plan  on  which  depends  the  rise 
of  my  fortunes — ay,  and  of  his  child^s.  Will  men  say  I  have 
ruined  her,  when  I  shall  have  raised  her  to  the  dazzling 
height  of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  and  perhaps  made  her 
mother  to  a  long  line  of  princes  ?  Chiffinch  hath  vouched 
for  opportunity  ;  and  the  voluptuary's  fortune  depends  on 
his  gratifying  the  taste  of  his  master  for  variety.  If  she 
makes  an  impression,  it  must  be  a  deep  one  ;  and  once  seated 
in  his  affections,  I  fear  not  her  being  supplanted.  What 
will  her  father  say  ?  Will  he,  like  a  prudent  man,  put  his 
shame  in  his  pocket,  because  it  is  well  gilded  ?  or  will  he 
think  it  fitting  to  make  a  display  of  moral  wrath  and  paren- 
tal frenzy  ?  I  fear  the  latter.  He  has  ever  kept  too  strict 
a  course  to  admit  his  conniving  at  such  license.  But  what 
will  his  anger  avail.  I  need  not  be  seen  in  the  matter  ; 
those  who  are  will  care  little  for  the  resentment  of  a  country 
Puritan.  And,  after  all,  what  I  am  laboring  to  bring  about 
is  best  for  himself,  the  wench,  and,  above  all,  for  me,  Edward 
Christian.^'  ^  .   ^ 

With  such  base  opiates  did  this  unhappy  wretch  stifle  his 
own  conscience,  while  anticipating  the  disgrace  of  hisfriend^s 
family,  and  the  ruin  of  a  near  relative,  committed  in  con- 
fidence to  his  charge.  The  character  of  this  man  was  of  no 
common  description,  nor  was  it  by  an  ordinary  road  that  he 
had  arrived  at  the  present  climax  of  unfeeling  and  infamous 
selfishness. 

Edward  Christian,  as  the  reader  is  aware,  was  the  brother 
of  that  William  Christian  who  was  the  principal  instrument 
in  delivering  up  the  Island  of  Man  to  the  Republic,  and  who 
became  the  victim  of  the  Countess  of  Derby's  revenge  on  that 
account.  Both  had  been  educated  as  Puritans,  but  William 
was  a  soldier,  which  somewhat  modified  the  strictness  of  his 
religious  opinions  ;  Edward,  a  civilian,  seemed  to  entertain 
these  principles  in  the  utmost  rigor.  But  it  was  only  seem- 
ing. The  exactness  of  deportment  which  procured  him  great 
honor  and  influence  among  the  "  sober  party,''  as  they  were 
wont  to  term  themselves,  covered  a  voluptuous  disposition, 
the  gratification  of  which  was  sweet  to  him  as  stolen  waters, 
and  pleasant  as  bread  eaten  in  secret.  While,  therefore,  his 
seeming  godliness  brought  him  worldly  gain,  his  secret 
pleasures  compensated  for  his  outward  austerity  ;  until  the 
Restoration,  and  the  countess's  violent  proceedings  against 
his  brother,  interrupted  the  course  of  both.  He  then  fled 
from  bis  native  island,  burning  witli  tbe  desire  of  revenging 


PEVEBIL  Of  THE  PEAK  ^9 

his  brother's  death — the  only  passion  foreign  to  his  own  gratis 
fication  which  he  was  ever  known  to  cherish,  and  which  was 
also  at  least  partly  selfish,  since  it  concerned  the  restoration 
of  his  own  fortunes. 

He  found  easy  access  to  Villiers,  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
who,  in  right  of  his  duchess,  claimed  such  of  the  Derby 
estates  as  had  been  bestowed  by  the  Parliament  on  his  cele- 
brated father-in-law.  Lord  Fairfax.  His  influence  at  the 
court  of  Charles,  where  a  jest  was  a  better  plea  than  a  long 
claim  of  faithful  service,  was  so  successfully  exerted  as  to 
contribute  greatly  to  the  depression  of  that  loyal  and  ill- 
rewarded  family.  But  Buckingham  was  incapable,  even  for 
his  own  interest,  of  pursuing  the  steady  course  which 
Christian  suggested  to  him  ;  and  his  vacillation  probably 
saved  the  remnant  of  the  large  estates  of  the  Earl  of  Derby. 

Meantime,  Christian  was  too  useful  a  follower  to  be  dis- 
missed. From  Buckingham  and  others  of  that  stamp  he 
did  not  affect  to  conceal  the  laxity  of  his  morals  ;  but,  to- 
wards the  numerous  and  powerful  party  to  which  he  belonged, 
he  was  able  to  disguise  them  by  a  seeming  gravity  of  exterior, 
which  he  never  laid  aside.  Indeed,  so  wide  and  absolute 
was  then  the  distinction  betwixt  the  court  and  the  city,  that 
a. man  might  have  for  some  time  played  two  several  parts,  as 
in  two  different  spheres,  without  its  being  discovered  in  the 
one  that  he  exhibited  himself  in  a  different  light  in  the 
other.  Besides,  when  a  man  of  talent  shows  himself  an  able 
and  useful  partizan,  his  party  will  continue  to  protect  and 
accredit  him,  in  spite  of  conduct  the  most  contradictory  to 
their  own  principles.  Some  facts  are,  in  such  cases,  denied, 
some  are  glossed  over ;  and  party  zeal  is  permitted  to  cover 
at  least  as  many  defects  as  ever  doth  charity. 

Edward  Christian  had  often  need  of  the  partial  indulgence 
of  his  friends  ;  but  he  experienced  it,  for  he  was  eminently 
useful.  Buckingham,  and  other  courtiers  of  the  same  class, 
however  dissolute  in  their  lives,  were  desirous  of  keeping 
some  connection  with  the  Dissenting  or  Puritanic  party,  as 
it  was  termed  ;  thereby  to  strengthen  themselves  against 
their  opponents  at  court.  In  such  intrigues.  Christian  was 
a  noble  agent ;  and  at  one  time  had  nearly  procured  an  ab- 
solute union  between  a  class  which  professed  the  most  rigid 
principles  of  religion  and  morality  and  the  latitudinarian 
courtiers,  who  set  all  principle  at  defiance. 

Midst  the  vicissitudes  of  a  life  of  intrigue,  during  which 
Buckingham's  ambitious  schemes  and  his  own  repeatedly 
sent  him  across  the  Atlantic,  it  was  Edward  Christian's 


340  r^  VBHLEY  NO  VELS 

boast  that  he  never  lost  sight  of  his  principal  object — revenga 
on  the  Countess  of  Derby.  He  maintained  a  close  and  in- 
timate correspondence  with  his  native  island,  so  as  to  be 
perfectly  informed  of  whatever  took  place  there ;  and  he 
stimulated,  on  every  favorable  opportunity,  the  cupidity  of 
Buckingham  to  possess  himself  of  this  petty  kingdom,  by 
procuring  the  forfeiture  of  its  present  lord.  It  was  not  dif- 
ficult to  keep  his  patron's  wild  wishes  alive  on  this  topic, 
for  his  own  mercurial  imagination  attached  particular  charms 
to  the  idea  of  becoming  a  sort  of  sovereign  even  in  this  little 
island  ;  and  he  was,  like  Oataline,  as  covetous  of  the  prop- 
erty of  others  as  he  was  profuse  of  his  own. 

But  it  was  not  until  the  pretended  discovery  of  the  Papist 
Plot  that  the  schemes  of  Christian  could  be  brought  to  ripen  ; 
and  then,  so  odious  were  the  Catholics  in  the  eyes  of  the 
credulous  people  of  England,  that,  upon  the  accusation  of 
the  most  infamous  of  mankind — common  informers,  the 
scourings  of  jails,  and  the  refuse  of  the  whipping-post — the 
most  atrocious  charges  against  persons  of  the  highest  rank 
and  fairest  character  were  readily  received  and  credited. 

This  was  a  period  which  Christian  did  not  fail  to  improve. 
He  drew  close  his  intimacy  with  Bridgenorth,  which  had 
indeed  never  been  interrupted,  and  readily  engaged  him  in 
his  schemes,  which,  in  the  eyes  of  his  brother-in-law,  were 
alike  honorable  and  patriotic.  But,  while  he  flattered 
Bridgenorth  with  the  achieving  a  complete  reformation  in  the 
state,  checking  the  profligacy  of  the  court,  relieving  the  con- 
sciences of  the  Dissenters  from  the  pressure  of  the  penal 
laws,  amending,  in  fine,  the  crying  grievances  of  the  time — 
while  he  showed  him  also,  in  prospect,  revenge  upon  the 
Countess  of  Derby,  and  a  humbling  dispensation  on  the 
house  of  Peveril,  from  whom  Bridgenorth  had  suffered  such 
indignity,  Christian  did  not  neglect,  in  the  meanwhile,  to 
consider  how  he  could  best  benefit  himself  by  the  confidence 
reposed  in  him  by  his  unsuspicious  relation. 

The  extreme  beauty  of  Alice  Bridgenorth,  the  great 
wealth  which  time  and  economy  had  accumulated  on  her 
father,  pointed  her  out  as  a  most  desirable  match  to  repay 
the  wasted  fortunes  of  some  of  the  followers  of  the  court ; 
and  he  flattered  himself  that  he  could  conduct  such  a  nego- 
tiation so  as  to  be  in  a  high  degree  conducive  to  his  own 
advantage.  He  found  there  would  be  little  difficulty  in  pre- 
vailing on  Major  Bridgenorth  to  entrust  him  with  the 
guardianship  of  his  daughter.  That  unfortunate  gentle- 
man had  accustomed  himself,  from  the  very  period  of  hei 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  341 

birth,  to  regard  the  presence  of  his  child  as  a  worldly  in- 
dulgence too  great  to  be  allowed  to  him  ;  and  Christian  had 
little  trouble  in  convincing  him  that  the  strong  inclination 
which  he  felt  to  bestow  her  on  Julian  Peveril,  provided  he 
could  be  brought  over  to  his  own  political  opinions,  was  a 
blameable  compromise  with  his  more  severe  principles.  Late 
circumstance*  had  taught  him  the  mcapacity  and  unfitness 
of  Dame  Debbitch  for  the  sole  charge  of  so  dear  a  pledge  ; 
and  he  readily  and  thankfully  embraced  the  kind  offer  of 
her  maternal  uncle,  Christian,  to  place  Alice  under  the  pro- 
tection of  a  lady  of  rank  in  London,  whilst  he  himself  was 
to  be  engaged  in  the  scenes  of  bustle  and  blood  which,  in 
common  with  all  good  Protestants,  he  expected  were  speedily 
to  take  place  on  a  general  rising  of  the  Papists,  unless  pre- 
vented by  the  active  and  energetic  measures  of  the  good  peo- 
ple of  England.  He  even  confessed  his  fears,  that  his  partial 
regard  for  Alice's  happiness  might  enervate  his  efforts  in 
behalf  of  his  country  ;  and  Christian  had  little  trouble  in 
eliciting  from  him  a  promise  that  he  would  forbear  to  inquire 
after  her  for  some  time. 

Thus  certain  of  being  the  temporary  guardian  of  his  niece 
for  a  space  long  enough,  he  flattered  himself  for  the  execu- 
tion of  his  purpose.  Christian  endeavored  to  pave  the  way  by 
consulting  Chiffinch,  whose  known  skill  in  court  policy 
qualified  him  best  as  an  adviser  on  this  occasion.  But  this 
worthy  person,  being,  in  fact,  a  purveyor  for  his  Majesty's 
■pleasures,  and  on  that  account  high  in  his  good  graces,  thought 
it  fell  within  the  line  of  his  duty  to  suggest  another  scheme 
than  that  on  which  Christian  consulted  him.  A  woman  of 
such  beauty  as  Alice  was  described  he  deemed  more  worthy 
to  be  a  partaker  of  the  affections  of  the  merry  monarch, 
whose  taste  in  female  beauty  was  so  exquisite,  than  to  be 
made  the  wife  of  some  worn-out  prodigal  of  quality.  And 
then,  doing  perfect  justice  to  his  own  character,  he  felt  it 
would  not  be  one  whit  impaired,  while  his  fortune  would  be, 
in  every  respect,  greatly  amended,  if,  after  sharing  the  short 
reign  of  the  Gwyns,  the  Davises,  the  Robertses,  and  so  forth, 
Alice  Bridgenorth  should  retire  from  the  state  of  a  royal 
favorite  into  the  humble  condition  of  Mrs.  Chiffinch. 

After  cautiously  sounding  Christian,  and  finding  that  the 
near  prospect  of  interest  to  himself  effectually  prevented  his 
starting  at  this  iniquitous  scheme,  Chiffinch  detailed  it  to  him 
fully,  carefully  keeping  the  final  termination  out  of  sight, 
and  talking  of  the  favor  to  be  acquired  by  the  fair  Alice  as 
no  passing  capi  .""e,  but  the  commencement  of  a  reign  aa 


342  WA  VERLEY  NO  VELS 

long  and  absolute  as  that  of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  oi 
whose  avarice  and  domineering  temper  Charles  was  now  un- 
derstood to  be  much  tired,  though  the  force  of  habit  ;.'en- 
dered  him  unequal  to  free  himself  of  her  yoke. 

Thus  chalked  out,  the  scene  prepared  was  no  longer  the 
scheme  of  a  court  pander,  and  a  villainous  resolution  for  the 
ruin  of  an  innocent  girl,  but  became  a  state  intrigue,  for  the 
removal  of  an  obnoxious  favorite,  and  the  subsequent  change 
of  the  King^s  sentiments  upon  various  material  points,  in 
which  he  was  at  present  influenced  by  tjie  Duchess  of  Ports- 
mouth. In  this  light  it  was  exhibited  to  the  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham, who,  either  to  sustain  his  character  for  daiing 
gallantry  or  in  order  to  gratify  some  capricious  fancy,  wad 
at  one  time  made  love  to  the  reigning  favorite,  and  ex- 
perienced a  repulse  which  he  had  never  forgiven. 

But  one  scheme  was  too  little  to  occupy  the  active  and  en- 
terprising spirit  of  the  duke.  An  appendix  of  the  Popish 
Plot  was  easily  so  contrived  as  to  involve  the  Countess  oi 
Derby,  who,  from  character  and  religion,  was  precisely  the 
person  whom  the  credulous  part  of  the  public  were  inclined 
to  suppose  the  likely  accomplice  of  such  a  conspiracy. 
Christian  and  Bridgenorth  undertook  the  perilous  commission 
of  attacking  her  even  in  her  own  little  kingdom  of  Man, 
and  had  commissions  for  this  purpose,  which  were  only  to 
be  produced  in  case  of  their  scheme  taking  effect. 

It  miscarried,  as  the  reader  is  aware,  from  the  countess's 
alert  preparations  for  defense  ;  and  neither  Christian  nor 
Bridgenorth  held  it  sound  policy  to  practise  openly,  even 
under  Parliamentary  authority,  against  a  lady  so  little  liable 
to  hesitate  upon  the  measures  most  likely  to  secure  her  feudal 
sovereignty ;  wisely  considering  that  even  the  omnipotence, 
as  it  has  been  somewhat  too  largely  styled,  of  Parliament, 
might  fail  to  relieve  them  from  the  personal  consequences 
of  a  failure. 

On  the  continent  of  Britain,  however,  no  opposition  was 
to  be  feared  ;  and  so  well  was  Christian  acquainted  with  all 
the  motions  in  the  interior  of  the  countess  s  little  court,  or 
household,  that  Peveril  would  have  been  arrested  the  instant 
he  set  foot  on  shore,  but  for  the  gale  of  wind,  which  obliged 
the  vessel  in  which  he  was  a  passenger  to  run  for  Liverpool. 
Here  Christian,  under  the  name  of  Ganlesse,  unexpectedly 
met  with  him,  and  preserved  him  from  the  fangs  of  the  well- 
breathed  witnesses  of  the  Plot,  with  the  purpose  of  securing 
his  despatches,  or,  if  necessary,  his  person  also,  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  place  him  at  his  own  discretion — a  narrow  and 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  343 

perilons  game,  which  he  thought  it  better,  however,  to  un- 
dertake than  to  permit  these  subordinate  agents,  who  were 
always  ready  to  mutiny  against  all  in  league  with  them,  to 
obtain  the  credit  which  they  must  have  done  by  the  seizure 
of  the  Countess  of  Derby's  papers.  It  was,  besides,  essential 
to  Buckingham's  schemes  that  these  should  not  pass  into 
the  hands  of  a  public  officer  like  Topham,  who,  however 
pompous  and  stupid,  was  upright  and  well-intentioned, 
until  they  had  undergone  the  revisal  of  a  private  committee, 
where  something  might  have  probably  been  suppressed,  even 
supposing  that  nothing  had  been  added.  In  short,  Christian, 
in  carrying  on  his  own  separate  and  peculiar  intrigue,  by 
the  agency  of  the  Great  Popish  Plot,  as  it  was  called,  acted 
just  like  an  engineer,  who  derives  the  principle  of  motion 
which  turns  his  machinery  by  means  of  a  steam-engine,  or 
large  water-wheel,  constructed  to  drive  a  separate  and  larger 
engine.  Accordingly,  he  was  determined  that,  while  he 
took  all  the  advantage  he  could  from  their  supposed  dis- 
coveries, no  one  should  be  admitted  to  tamper  or  interfere 
with  his  own  plans  of  profit  and  revenge. 

Chiffinch,  who,  desirous  of  satisfying  himself  with  his 
own  eyes  of  that  excellent  beauty  which  had  been  so  highly 
extolled,  had  gone  down  to  Derbyshire  on  purpose,  was  in- 
finitely delighted  when,  during  the  course  of  a  two  hours' 
sermon  at  the  dissenting  chapel  in  Liverpool,  which  afforded 
him  ample  leisure  for  a  deliberate  survey,  he  arrived  at  the 
conclusion  that  he  had  never  seen  a  form  or  face  more  cap- 
tivating. His  eyes  having  confirmed  what  was  told  him,  he 
hurried  back  to  the  little  inn  which  formed  their  place  of 
rendezvous,  and  there  awaited  Christian  and  his  niece,  with 
a  degree  of  confidence  in  the  success  of  their  project  which 
he  had  not  before  entertained  ;  and  with  an  apparatus  of 
luxury  calculated,  as  he  thought,  to  make  a  favorable  im- 
pression on  the  mind  of  a  rustic  girl.  He  was  somewhat 
surprised  when,  instead  of  Alice  Bridgenorth,  to  whom  he 
expected  that  night  to  have  been  introduced,  he  found  that 
Christian  was  accompanied  by  Julian  Peveril.  It  was  indeed 
a  severe  disappointment,  for  he  had  prevailed  on  his  own 
indolence  to  venture  thus  far  from  the  court,  in  order  that 
he  might  judge  with  his  own  paramount  taste,  whether 
Alice  was  really  the  prodigy  which  her  uncle's  praises  had 
bespoken  her,  and,  as  such,  a  victim  worthy  of  the  fate  to 
which  she  was  destined. 

A  few  words  betwixt  the  worthy  confederates  determined 
them  on  the  plan  of  stripping  Peveril  of  the  countess's  de- 


344  )VA  VERLEY  NO VELS 

spatches,  Chiffinch  absolutely  refusing  to  take  any  share  in 
arresting  him,  as  a  matter  of  which  his  master^s  approba- 
tion might  be  very  uncertain. 

Christian  had  also  his  own  reasons  for  abstaining  from  so 
decisive  a  step.  It  was  by  no  means  likely  to  be  agreeable 
to  Bridgenorth,  whom  it  was  necessary  to  keep  in  good- 
humor  ;  it  was  not  necessary,  for  the  countess's  despatches 
were  of  far  more  importance  than  the  person  of  Julian. 
Lastly,  it  was  superfluous  in  this  respect  also,  that  Julian 
was  on  the  road  to  his  father's  castle,  where  it  was  likely  he 
would  be  seized,  as  a  matter  of  course,  along  with  the  other 
suspicious  persons  who  fell  under  Topham's  warrant  and  the 
denunciations  of  his  infamous  companions.  He,  therefore, 
far  from  using  any  violence  to  Peveril,  assumed  towards 
him  such  a  friendly  tone  as  might  seem  to  warn  him  against 
receving  damage  from  others,  and  vindicate  himself  from 
having  had  any  share  in  depriving  him  of  his  charge.  This 
last  maneuver  was  achieved  by  an  infusion  of  a  strong  nar- 
cotic into  Julian's  wine,  under  the  influence  of  which  he 
slumbered  so  soundly  that  the  confederates  were  easily  able 
to  accomplish  their  inhospitable  purpose. 

The  events  of  the  succeeding  days  are  already  known  to 
the  reader.  Chiffinch  set  forward  to  return  to  London  with 
the  packet,  which  it  was  desirable  should  be  in  Bucking- 
ham's hands  as  soon  as  possible  ;  while  Christian  went  to 
Moultrassie,  to  receive  Alice  from  her  father  and  convey  her 
safely  to  London — his  accomplice  agreeing  to  defer  his 
curiosity  to  see  more  of  her  until  they  should  have  arrived 
In  that  city. 

Before  parting  with  Bridgenorth,  Christian  had  exerted 
his  utmost  address  to  prevail  on  him  to  remain  at  Moul- 
trassie :  he  had  even  overstepped  the  bounds  of  prudence, 
and,  by  his  urgency,  awakened  some  suspicions  of  an  in- 
definite nature,  which  he  found  it  difficult  to  allay.  Bridge- 
north,  therefore,  followed  his  brother-in-law  to  London  ;  and 
the  reader  has  already  been  made  acquainted  with  the  arts 
which  Christian  used  to  prevent  his  farther  interference 
with  the  destinies  of  his  daughter  or  the  unhallowed  schemes 
of  her  ill-chosen  guardian.  Still  Christian,  as  he  strode 
along  the  street  in  profound  reflection,  saw  that  his  under- 
taking was  attended  with  a  thousand  perils  ;  and  the  drops 
stood  like  beads  on  his  brow  when  he  thought  of  the  pre- 
sumptuous levity  and  fickle  temper  of  Buckingham — the 
frivolity  and  intemperance  of  Chiffinch — the  suspicions  of 
the   melancholy  and  bigoted,   yet  sagacious  and    honest. 


PEYERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  84fi 

Bridgenorth.  "  Had  I/' he  thought,  "but  tools  fitted,  each 
to  their  portion  of  the  work,  how  easily  could  I  heave  asun- 
der and  disjoint  the  strength  that  opposes  me  !  But  with 
these  frail  and  insufficient  implements,  lam  in  daily,  hourly, 
momentary  danger  that  one  lever  or  other  gives  way,  and 
that  the  whole  ruin  recoils  on  my  own  head.  And  yet,  were 
it  not  for  those  failings  I  complain  of,  how  were  it  possible 
for  me  to  have  acquired  that  power  over  them  all  which  con- 
stitutes them  my  passive  tools,  even  when  they  seem  most 
to  exert  their  own  free  will  ?  Yes,  the  bigots  have  some 
right  when  they  affirm  that  all  is  for  the  best/' 

It  may  seem  strange  that,  amidst  the  various  subjects  of 
Christian's  apprehension,  he  was  never  visited  by  any  long 
or  permanent  doubt  that  the  virtue  of  his  niece  might  prove 
the  shoal  on  which  his  voyage  should  be  wrecked.  But  he 
was  an  arrant  rogue,  as  well  as  a  hardened  libertine  ;  and, 
in  both  characters,  a  professed  disbeliever  in  the  virtue  of 
liie  laur  ^6x. 


,.-.1     4>?     ■■'■ 


CHAPTER  XXX 

As  for  John  Dryden's  Charles,  I  own  that  king 
Was  never  any  very  mighty  thing ; 
And  yet  he  was  a  devilish  honest  fellow — 
Eejoy'd  his  friend  and  bottle  and  got  mellow. 

Dr.  Wolcot. 

LiON'DON',  the  grand  central  point  of  intrigues  of  every  de- 
scription, had  now  attracted  within  its  dark  and  shadowy 
region  the  greater  number  of  the  personages  whom  we  have 
had  occasion  to  mention. 

Julian  Peveril,  amongst  others  of  the  dramatis  personcB, 
had  arrived,  and  taken  up  his  abode  in  a  remote  inn  in  the 
suburbs.  His  business,  he  conceived,  was  to  remain  in- 
cognito until  he  should  have  communicated  in  private  with 
the  friends  who  were  most  likely  to  lend  assistance  to  his 
parents,  as  well  as  to  his  patroness,  in  their  present  situa- 
tion of  doubt  and  danger.  Amongst  these,  the  most  power- 
ful was  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  whose  faithful  services,  high 
rank,  and  acknowledged  worth  and  virtue,  still  preserved 
an  ascendency  in  that  very  court  where,  in  general,  he  was 
regarded  as  out  of  favor.  Indeed,  so  much  consciousness 
did  Charles  display  in  his  demeanor  towards  that  celebrated 
noble  and  servant  of  his  father,  that  Buckingham  once  took 
the  freedom  to  ask  the  King,  whether  the  Duke  of  Ormand 
had  lost  his  Majesty's  favor  or  his  Majesty  the  duke's,  since, 
whenever  they  chanced  to  meet,  the  King  appeared  the 
more  embarrassed  of  the  two.  But  it  was  not  Peveril's  good 
fortune  to  obtain  the  advice  or  countenance  of  this  distin- 
guished person.  His  Grace  of  Ormond  was  not  at  that  time 
in  London. 

The  letter  about  the  delivery  of  which  the  countess  had 
seemed  most  anxious  after  that  to  the  Duke  of  Ormond  was 
addressed  to  Captain  Barstow  (a  Jesuit,  whose  real  name  was 
.Fenwicke),  to  be  found,  or  at  least  to  be  heard  of,  in  the 
house  of  one  Martin  Christal  in  the  Savoy.  To  this  place 
hastened  Peveril,  upon  learning  the  absence  of  the  Duke  of 
Ormond.  He  was  not  ignorant  of  the  danger  which  he  per- 
sonally incurred  by  thus  becoming  a  medium  of  communica- 

349 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  347 

tion  betwixt  a  Popish  priest  and  a  suspected  Catholic.  But 
when  he  undertook  the  perilous  commission  of  his  patroness, 
he  had  done  so  frankly,  and  with  unreserved  resolution  of 
serving  her  in  the  manner  in  which  she  most  desired  her  af- 
fairs to  be  conducted.  Yet  he  could  not  forbear  some  secret 
apprehension  when  he  felt  himself  engaged  in  the  labyrinth 
of  passages  and  galleries  which  led  to  different  obscure  seta 
of  apartments  in  the  ancient  building  termed  the  Savoy. 

This  antiquated  and  almost  ruinous  pile  occupied  a  part 
of  the  site  of  the  public  offices  in  the  Strand  commonly  called 
Somerest  House.  The  Savoy  had  been  formerly  a  palace, 
and  took  its  name  from  the  Earl  of  Savoy,  by  whom  it  was 
founded.  It  had  been  the  habitation  of  John  of  Gaunt  and 
various  persons  of  distinction  ;  had  become  a  convent,  an 
hospital,  and  finally,  in  Charles  II. 's  time,  a  waste  of  dilapi- 
dated buildings  and  ruinous  apartments,  inhabited  chiefly 
by  those  who  had  some  connection  with,  or  dependence  upon, 
the  neighboring  palace  of  Somerset  House,  which,  more  for- 
tunate than  the  Savoy,  had  still  retained  its  royal  title,  and 
was  the  abode  of  a  part  of  the  court,  and  occasionally  of  the 
King  himself,  who  had  apartments  there. 

It  was  not  without  several  inquiries,  and  more  than  one 
mistake,  that,  at  the  end  of  a  long  and  dusk  passage,  com- 
posed of  boards  so  wasted  by  time  that  they  threatened  to 
give  way  under  his  feet,  Julian  at  length  found  the  name  of 
Martin  Ohristal,  broker  and  appraiser,  upon  a  shattered  door. 
He  was  about  to  knock,  when  some  one  pulled  his  cloak  ; 
and  looking  round,  to  his  great  astonishment,  which  indeed 
almost  amounted  to  fear,  he  saw  the  little  mute  damsel,  who 
had  accompanied  him  for  a  part  of  the  way  on  his  voyage 
from  the  Isle  of  Man.  ''  Fenella  ! "  he  exclaimed,  forget- 
ting that  she  could  neither  hear  nor  reply — *'  Fenella  !  Can 
this  be  you  ? '' 

Fenella,  assuming  the  air  of  warning  and  authority  which 
she  had  heretofore  endeavored  to  adopt  towards  him,  inter- 
posed betwixt  Julian  and  the  door  at  which  he  was  about  to 
knock,  pointed  with  her  finger  towards  it  in  a  prohibiting 
manner,  and  at  the  same  time  bent  her  brows  and  shook  her 
head  sternly. 

After  a  moment's  consideration,  Julian  could  place  but  one 
interpretation  upon  Fenella's  appearance  and  conduct,  and 
that  was,  by  supposing  her  lady  had  come  up  to  London, 
and  had  despatched  this  mute  attendant,  as  a  confidential 
person,  to  apprise  him  of  some  change  of  her  intended  opera- 
tions, which  might  render  the  delivery  of  her  letters  to 


348  WAViJRL^r  I^OVkLd 

Barstow,  alias  Fenwicke,  superfluous,  or  perhaps  danger- 
ous. He  made  signs  to  Fenella,  demanding  to  know  whether 
she  had  any  commission  from  the  countess.  She  nodded. 
^'  Had  she  any  letter  ?"  he  continued,  by  the  same  mode  of 
inquiry.  She  shook  her  head  impatiently,  and,  walking 
hastily  along  the  passage,  made  a  signal  to  him  to  follow. 
He  did  so,  having  little  doubt  that  he  was  about  to  be  con- 
ducted into  the  countesses  presence ;  but  his  surprise,  at 
first  excited  by  Fenella's  appearance,  was  increased  by  the 
rapidity  and  ease  with  which  she  seemed  to  track  the  dusky 
and  decayed  mazes  of  the  dilapidated  Savoy,  equal  to  that 
with  which  he  had  seen  her  formerly  lead  the  way  through 
the  gloomy  vaults  of  Castle  Eushin,  in  the  Isle  of  Man. 

When  he  recollected,  however,  that  Fenella  had  accom- 
panied the  countess  on  a  long  visit  to  London,  it  appeared 
not  improbable  that  she  might  then  have  acquired  this  local 
knowledge  which  seemed  so  accurate.  Many  foreigners,  de- 
pendent on  the  Queen  or  Queen  Dowager,  had  apartments 
m  the  Savoy.  Many  Catholic  priests  also  found  refuge  in 
its  recesses,  under  various  disguises,  and  m  defiance  of  the 
severity  of  the  laws  against  Popery.  What  was  more  likely 
than  that  the  Countess  of  Derby,  a  Catholic  and  a  French 
woman,  should  have  had  secret  commissions  among  such 
people  ;  and  that  the  execution  of  such  should  be  entrusted, 
at  least  occasionally,  to  Fenella  ? 

Thus  reflecting,  Julian  continued  to  follow  her  light  and 
active  footsteps  as  she  glided  from  the  Strand  to  Spring 
Gardens,  and  thence  into  the  Park. 

It  was  still  early  in  the  morning,  and  the  Mall  was  un- 
tenanted, save  by  a  few  walkers,  who  frequented  these  shades 
for  the  wholesome  purposes  of  air  and  exercise.  Splendor, 
gaiety,  and  display  did  not  come  forth,  at  that  period,  until 
noon  was  approaching.  All  readers  have  heard  that  the 
whole  space  where  the  Horse  Guards  are  now  built  made,  in 
the  time  of  Charles  II.,  a  part  of  St.  James's  Park  ;  and 
that  the  old  building,  now  called  the  Treasury,  was  a  part 
of  the  ancient  palace  of  Whitehall,  which  was  thus  immedi- 
ately connected  with  the  Park.  The  canal  had  been  con- 
structed by  the  celebrated  Le  N"6tre,  for  the  purpose  of 
draining  the  Park  ;  and  it  communicated  with  the  Thames 
by  a  decoy,  stocked  with  a  quantity  of  the  rarer  waterfowl. 
It  was  towards  this  decoy  that  Fenella  bent  her  way  with 
unabated  speed  ;  and  they  were  approaching  a  group  of  two 
or  three  gentlemen  who  sauntered  by  its  banks,  when,  on 
looking  closely  at  him  who  appeared  to  be  the  chief  of  the 


PEVEEIL  OF  THE  PEAK  349 

party,  Julian  felt  his  heart  beat  uncommonly  thick,  as  if 
conscious  of  approaching  some  one  of  the  highest  conse- 
quence. 

The  person  whom  he  looked  upon  was  past  the  middle 
age  of  life,  of  a  dark  complexion,  corresponding  vvith  the 
long,  black,  full-bottomed  periwig  which  he  wore  instead  of 
his  own  hair.  His  dress  was  plain  black  velvet,  with  a  dia- 
mond star,  however,  on  his  cloak,  which  hung  carelessly 
over  one  shoulder.  His  features,  strongly  lined,  even  to 
harshness,  had  yet  an  expression  of  dignified  good-humor  ; 
he  was  well  and  strongly  built,  walked  upright  and  yet 
easily,  and  had  upon  the  whole  the  air  of  a  person  of  the 
highest  consideration.  He  kept  rather  in  advance  of  his 
companions,  but  turned  and  spoke  to  them,  from  time  to 
time,  with  much  affability,  and  probably  with  some  liveli- 
ness, judging  by  the  smiles,  and  sometimes  the  scarce  re- 
strained laughter,  by  which  some  of  his  sallies  were  received 
by  his  attendants.  They  also  wore  only  morning  dresses  ;  but 
their  looks  and  manner  were  those  of  men  of  rank,  in  presence 
of  one  in  station  still  more  elevated.  They  shared  the  atten- 
tion of  their  principal  in  common  with  seven  or  eight  little 
black,  curly-haired  spaniels,  or  rather,  as  they  are  now 
called,  cockers,  which  attended  their  master  as  closely,  and 
perhaps  with  as  deep  sentiments  of  attachment,  as  the  bipeds 
of  the  group ;  and  whose  gambols,  which  seemed  to  afford 
him  much  amusement,  he  sometimes  checked  and  sometimes 
encouraged.  In  addition  to  this  pastime,  a  lackey,  or 
groom,  was  also  in  attendance,  with  one  or  two  little  baskets 
and  bags,  from  which  the  gentleman  we  have  described 
took,  from  time  to  time,  a  handful  of  seeds,  and  amused 
himself  with  throwing  them  to  the  waterfowl. 

This,  the  King^s  favorite  occupation,  together  with  his 
remarkable  countenance  and  the  deportment  of  the  rest  of 
the  company  towards  him,  satisfied  Julian  Peveril  that  he 
was  approaching,  perhaps  indecorously,  near  to  the  person 
of  Charles  Stuart,  the  second  of  that  unhappy  name. 

While  he  hesitated  to  follow  his  dumb  guide  any  nearer, 
and  felt  the  embarrassment  of  being  unable  to  communicate 
to  her  his  repugnance  to  further  intrusion,  a  person  in  the 
royal  retinue  touched  a  light  and  lively  air  on  the  flageolet, 
at  a  signal  from  the  King,  who  desired  to  have  some  tune 
repeated  which  had  struck  him  in  the  theater  on  the  pre- 
ceding evening.  While  the  good-natured  monarch  marked 
time  with  his  foot  and  with  the  motion  of  his  hand,  Fenella 
continued  to  approach  him,  and  threw  into  her  manner  the 


860  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

appearance  of  one  who  was  attracted,  as  it  were  in  spite  of 
herself,  by  the  sounds  of  the  instrument. 

Anxious  to  know  how  this  was  to  end,  and  astonished  to 
see  the  dumb  girl  imitate  so  accurately,  the  manner  of  one 
who  actually  heard  the  musical  notes,  Peveril  also  drew  near, 
though  at  somewhat  greater  distance. 

The  King  looked  good-humoredly  at  both,  as  if  he  ad- 
mitted their  musical  enthusiasm  as  an  excuse  for  their  in- 
trusion ;  but  his  eyes  became  riveted  on  Fenella,  whose  face 
and  appearance,  although  rather  singular  than  beautiful, 
had  something  in  them  wild,  fantastic,  and,  as  being  so, 
even  captivating  to  an  eye  which  had  been  gratified  perhaps 
to  satiety  with  the  ordinary  forms  of  female  beauty.  She 
did  not  appear  to  notice  how  closely  she  was  observed  ;  but, 
as  if  acting  under  an  irresistible  impulse,  derived  from  the 
sounds  to  which  she  seemed  to  listen,  she  undid  the  bodkin 
round  which  her  long  tresses  were  winded,  and  flinging  them 
suddenly  over  her  slender  person,  as  if  using  them  as  a  na- 
tural veil,  she  began  to  dance,  with  infinite  grace  and  agility, 
to  the  tune  which  the  flageolet  played. 

Peveril  lost  almost  his  sense  of  the  King's  presence,  when 
he  observed  with  what  wonderful  grace  and  agility  Fenella 
kept  time  to  notes  which  could  only  be  known  to  her  by  the 
motions  of  the  musician's  fingers.  He  had  heard,  indeed, 
among  other  prodigies,  of  a  person  in  Fenella's  unhappy 
situation  acquiring,  by  some  unaccountable  and  mysterious 
tact,  the  power  of  acting  as  an  instrumental  musician,  nay, 
becoming  so  accurate  a  performer  as  to  be  capable  of  leading 
a  musical  band  ;  and  he  had  also  heard  of  deaf  and  dumb 
persons  dancing  with  sufficient  accuracy,  by  observing  the 
motions  of  their  partner.  But  Fenella's  performance  seemed 
more  wonderful  than  either,  since  the  musician  was  guided 
by  his  written  notes,  and  the  dancer  by  the  motions  of  the 
others ;  whereas  Fenella  had  no  intimation,  save  what  she 
seemed  to  gather,  with  infinite  accuracy,  by  observing  the 
motion  of  the  artist's  fingers  on  his  small  instrument. 

As  for  the  King,  who  was  ignorant  of  the  particular  cir- 
cumstances which  rendered  Fenella's  performance  almost 
marvelous,  he  was  contented,  at  her  first  commencement, 
to  authorize  what  seemed  to  him  the  frolic  of  this  singular- 
looking  damsel  by  a  good-humored  smile  ;  but  when  he  per- 
ceived the  exquisite  truth  and  justice,  as  well  as  the  won- 
derful combination  of  grace  and  agility,  with  which  she  exe- 
cuted to  his  favorite  air  a  dance  which  was  perfectly  new  to 
him,  Charles  turned  his  mere  acquiescence  into  something 


i 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  «01 

like  enthusiastic  applause.  He  bore  time  to  her  motions 
with  the  movement  of  his  foot,  applauded  with  head  and 
with  hand,  and  seemed,  like  herself,  carried  away  by  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  gestic  art. 

After  a  rapid  yet  graceful  succession  of  entrechats,  Fenella 
introduced  a  slow  movement,  which  terminated  the  dance  ; 
then  dropping  a  profound  courtesy,  she  continued  to  stand 
motionless  before  the  King,  her  arms  folded  on  her  bosom, 
her  head  stooped,  and  her  eyes  cast  down,  after  the  manner 
of  an  Oriental  slave  ;  while  through  the  misty  veil  of  her 
shadowy  locks  it  might  be  observed  that  the  color  which  ex- 
ercise had  called  to  her  cheeks  was  dying  fast  away,  and 
•resigning  them  to  their  native  dusky  hue. 

'*  By  my  honor,''  exclaimed  the  King,  *'  she  is  like  a  fairy 
who  trips  it  in  moonlight.  There  must  be  more  of  air  and 
fire  than  of  earth  in  her  composition.  It  is  well  poor  Nelly 
Gwyn  saw  her  not,  or  she  would  have  died  of  grief  and  envy. 
Come,  gentlemen,  which  of  you  contrived  this  pretty  piece 
of  morning  pastime  ?  " 

The  courtiers  looked  at  each  other,  but  none  of  them  felt 
authorized  to  claim  the  merit  of  a  service  so  agreeable. 

^'  We  must  ask  the  quick-eyed  nymph  herself,  then,''  said 
the  King ;  and,  looking  at  Fenella,  he  added,  *'  Tell  us, 
my  pretty  one,  to  whom  we  owe  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you. 
I  suspect  the  Duke  of  Buckingham ;  for  this  is  exactly  a 
tour  de  son  metier/' 

Fenella,  on  observing  that  the  King  addressed  her,  bowed 
low  and  shook  her  head,  in  signal  that  she  did  not  under- 
stand what  he  said.  ^'  Odds-fish,  that  is  true,"  said  the 
King  ;  *'she  must  perforce  be  a  foreigner  :  her  complexion 
and  agility  speak  it.  France  or  Italy  has  had  the  molding 
of  these  elastic  limbs,  dark  cheek,  and  eye  of  fire."  He 
then  put  to  her  in  French,  and  again  in  Italian,  the  ques- 
tion, *'•'  By  whom  she  had  been  sent  hither  ?" 

At  the  second  repetition,  Fenella  threw  back  her  veiling 
tresses,  so  as  to  show  the  melancholy  which  sat  on  her  brow  ; 
while  she  sadly  shook  her  head,  and  intimated  by  imperfect 
muttering,  but  of  the  softest  and  most  plaintive  kind,  her 
organic  deficiency. 

'*  Is  it  possible  nature  can  have  made  such  a  fault  ?"  said 
Charles.  ^^  Can  she  have  left  so  curious  a  piece  as  thou  art 
without  the  melody  of  voice,  whilst  she  has  made  thee  so  ex- 
quisitely sensible  to  the  beauty  of  sound  ?  Stay — what 
means  this  ?  and  what  young  fellow  are  you  bringing  up 
there  ?    Oh,  the  master  of  the  show,  I  suppose.     Friend," 


B52  WA  VERLET  NOVELS 

he  added^  addressing  himself  to  Peveril,  who,  on  the  signal 
of  Fenella,  stepped  forward  almost  instinctively  and  kneeled 
down,  "  we  thank  thee  for  the  pleasure  of  this  morning. 
My  lord  marquis,  vou  rooked  me  at  p%uet  last  night,  for 
which  disloyal  deed  thou  shalt  now  atone,  by  giving  a  couple 
of  pieces  to  this  honest  youth  and  five  to  the  girl. 

As  the  nobleman  drew  out  his  purse  and  came  forward  to 
perform  the  King's  generous  commission,  Julian  felt  some 
embarrassment  ere  he  was  able  to  explain  that  he  had  no 
title  to  be  benefited  by  the  young  person's  performance,  and 
that  his  Majesty  had  mistaken  his  character. 

**  And  who  art  thou,  then,  my  friend  ^"  said  Charles; 
'*  but,  above  all,  and  particularly,  who  is  this  dancing 
nymph,  whom  thou  standest  waiting  on  like  an  attendant 
faun?" 

*'  The  young  person  is  a  retainer  of  the  Countess-Dowager 
of  Derby,  so  please  your  Majesty,''  said  Peveril,  in  a  low 
tone  of  voice  ;  ''  and  I  am " 

*'  Hold — hold,"  said  the  King  ;  ''  this  is  a  dance  to  another 
tune,  and  not  fit  for  a  place  so  public.  Hark  thee,  friend, 
do  thou  and  the  young  woman  follow  Empson  where  he  will 
conduct  thee.     Empson,  carry  them — hark  in  thy  ear." 

^'May  it  please  your  Majesty,  I  ought  to  say,"  said  Pev- 
eril, "  that  I  am  guiltless  of  any  purpose  of  intrusion " 

"  Now,  a  plague  on  him  who  can  take  no  hint,"  said  the 
King,  cutting  short  his  apology.  ''  Odds-fish,  man,  there 
are  times  when  civility  is  the  greatest  impertinence  in  the 
worldo  Do  thou  follow  Empson,  and  amuse  thyself  for  an 
half  hour's  space  with  the  fairy's  company,  till  we  shall  send 
for  you." 

Charles  spoke  this  not  without  casting  an  anxious  eye 
around,  and  in  a  tone  which  intimated  apprehension  of  be- 
ing overheard.  Julian  could  only  bow  obedience  and  follow 
Empson,  who  was  the  same  person  that  played  so  rarely  on 
the  flageolet. 

When  they  were  out  of  sight  of  the  King  and  his  party, 
the  musician  wished  to  enter  into  conversation  with  his  com- 
panions, and  addressed  himself  first  to  Fenella,  with  a  broad 
compliment  of  ''By  the  mass,  ye  dance  rarely  :  ne'er  a  slut 
on  the  boards  shows  such  a  shank  !  I  would  be  content  to 
play  to  you  till  my  throat  were  as  dry  as  my  whistle.  Come, 
be  a  little  free  ;  Old  Rowley  will  not  quit  the  Park  till  nine. 
I  will  carry  you  to  Spring  Gardens,  and  bestow  sweet  cakes 
and  a  quart  of  Rhenish  on  both  of  you  ;  and  we'll  be  cam- 
eradoes.    What  the  devil  I  no  answer  ?    How's  this,  brother  ? 


I 


PEVElilL  OF  THE  PEAK  «68 

Is  this  neat  wench  of  yours  deaf  or  dnnib,  or  Doth  ?  1  should 
laugh  at  that,  and  she  trip  it  so  well  to  the  flageolet." 

To  rid  himself  of  this  fellow^s  discourse,  Peveril  answered 
him  in  French  that  he  was  a  foreigner  and  spoke  no  English  ; 
glad  to  escape,  though  at  the  expense  of  a  fiction,  from  the 
additional  embarrassment  of  a  fool,  who  was  likely  to  ask 
more  questions  than  his  own  wisdom  might  have  enabled 
him  to  answei*. 

"  Et ranger — that  means  stranger,"  muttered  their  guide  ; 
"  more  French  dogs  and  jades  come  to  lick  the  good  Eng- 
lish butter  off  our  bread,  or  perhaps  an  Italian  puppet-show. 
Well,  if  it  were  not  that  they  have  a  mortal  enmity  to  the 
whole  gamut,  this  were  enough  to  make  any  honest  fellow 
turn  Puritan.  But  if  I  am  to  play  to  her  at  the  Duchess's, 
ril  be  d — d  but  I  put  her  out  in  the  tune,  just  to  teach  her 
to  have  the  impudence  to  come  to  England  and  to  speak  no 
English." 

Having  muttered  to  himself  this  truly  British  resolution, 
the  musician  walked  briskly  on  towards  a  large  house  near 
the  bottom  of  St.  James's  Street,  and  entered  the  court,  by  a 
grated  door,,  from  the  Park,  of  which  the  mansion  com- 
manded an  extensive  prospect. 

Peveril,  finding  himself  in  front  of  a  handsome  portico, 
under  which  opened  a  stately  pair  of  folding-doors,  was  about 
to  ascend  the  steps  that  led  to  the  main  entrance,  when  his 
guide  seized  him  by  the  arm,  exclaiming,  '*  Hold,  Moun- 
seer  !  What !  youll  lose  nothing,  I  see,  for  want  of  cour- 
age ;  but  you  must  keep  the  back  way,  for  all  your  fine 
doublet.  Here  it  is  not, . "  Knock  and  it  shall  be  opened  ; " 
but  may  be  instead,  ''  Knock  and  you  shall  be  knocked. "    li 

Suffering  himself  to  be  guided  by  Empson,  Julian  deviated 
from  the  principal  door  to  one  which  opened,  with  less  osten- 
tation, in  an  angle  of  the  courtyard.  On  a  modest  tap  from 
the  flute-player,  admittance  was  afforded  him  and  his  com- 
panions by  a  footman,  who  conducted  them  through  a  variety 
of  stone  passages  to  a  very  handsome  summer  parlor,  where 
a  lady,  or  something  resembling  one,  dressed  in  a  style  of 
extra  elegance,  was  trifling  with  a  play-book  while  she 
finished  her  chocolate.  It  would  not  be  easy  to  describe 
her,  but  by  weighing  her  natural  good  qualities  against  the 
affectations  which  counterbalanced  them.  She  would  have 
been  handsome,  but  for  rouge  and  minauderie  ;  would  have 
been  civil,  but  for  overstraiued  airs  of  patronage  and  condes- 
cension ;  would  have  had  an  agreeable  voice,  had  she  spoken 
in  her  natural  tone ;  and  fine  eyes,  had  she  not  made  such 
23 


364  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

desperate  hard  use  of  them.  She  could  only  spoil  a  pretty 
ankle  by  too  liberal  display  ;  but  her  shape,  though  she 
could  not  yet  be  thirty  years  old,  had  the  embonpoint  which 
might  have  suited  better  with  ten  years  more  advanced. 
She  pointed  Empson  to  a  seat  with  the  air  of  a  duchess,  and 
asked  him,  languidly,  how  he  did  this  age,  that  she  had  not 
seen  him,  and  what  folks  these  were  he  had  brought  with  him. 

"Foi'eigners,  madam — d — d  foreigners, '' answered  Emp- 
son— *' starving  beggars,  that  our  old  friend  has  picked  up 
in  the  Park  this  morning ;  the  wench  dances,  and  the  fellow- 
plays  on  the  Jew's-trump.  I  believe.  On  my  life,  madam,  1 
begin  to  be  ashamed  of  Old  Eowley  ;  I  must  discard  bin., 
unless  he  keeps  better  company  in  future.'' 

'*Fie,  Empson,''  said  the  lady  ;  ''consider  it  is  our  duty 
to  countenance  him,  aud  keep  him  afloat ;  and  indeed  I 
always  make  a  principle  of  it.  Hark  ye,  he  comes  not 
hither  this  morning  ?  " 

''He  will  be  here,"  answered  Empson,  "in  the  walking 
of  a  minute." 

"  My  God  !  "  exclaimed  the  lady,  with  unaffected  alarm  ; 
and  starting  up  with  utter  neglect  of  her  usual  airs  of 
graceful  languor,  she  tripped  as  swiftly  as  a  milk-maid 
into  an  adjoining  apartment,  where  they  heard  presently  a 
few  words  of  eager  and  animated  discussion. 

"Something  to  be  put  out  of  the  way,  I  suppose,"  said 
Empson.  "  Well  for  madam  I  gave  her  the  hint.  There  he 
goes  the  happy  swain." 

Julian  was  so  situated  that  he  could,  from  the  same  case- 
ment through  which  Empson  was  peeping,  observe  a  man  m 
a  laced  roquelaure,  and  carrying  his  rapier  under  his  arm, 
glide  from  the  door  by  which  he  had  himself  entered,  and 
out  of  the  court,  keeping  as  much  as  possible  under  the 
shade  of  tlie  buildings. 

The  lady  re-entered  at  this  moment,  and  o'bserving  how 
Empson's  eyes  were  directed,  said,  with  a  slight  appearance 
of  hurry,  "A  gentleman  of  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth's 
with  a  billet  ;  and  so  tiresomely  pressing  for  an  answer,  thnt 
I  was  obliged  to  write  without  my  diamond  pen.  I  have 
daubed  my  fingers  I  dare  say,"  she  added,  looking  at  a  very 
pretty  hand,  and  presently  after  dipping  her  fingers  in  a  lit- 
tle silver  vase  of  rose-water.  "But  that  little  exotic  mon- 
ster of  yours,  Empson,  I  hope  she  really  understands  no 
English  ?  On  my  life,  she  colored.  Is  she  such  a  rare 
dancer  ?  I  must  see  her  dance,  and  hear  him  play  on  the 
Jew's  harp.*' 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  355 

''Dance!*'  replied  Empson  ;  ^'she  danced  well  enough 
when  7  played  to  her.  I  can  make  anything  dance.  Old 
Counselor  Clubfoot  danced  when  he  had  a  fit  of  the  gout ; 
you  have  seen  no  such  jo«s  seiil  in  the  theater.  I  would  en- 
gage to  make  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  dance  the  hays 
like  a  Frenchman.  There  is  nothing  in  dancing  ;  it  all  lies 
in  the  music.  Rowley  does  not  know  that  now.  He  saw 
this  poor  wench  dance  ;  and  thought  so  mach  on't,  when  it 
was  all  along  of  me.  I  would  have  defied  her  to  sit  still. 
And  Rowley  gives  her  the  credit  of  it,  and  five  pieces  to 
boot ;  and  I  have  only  two  for  my  morning's  work  ! " 

"True,  Master  Empson,"  said  the  lady  ;  "  but  you  are  of 
the  family,  though  in  a  lower  station  ;  and  you  ought  to  con- 
sider  " 

*'  By  G — ,  madam,"  answered  Empson,  ''  all  I  consider  is, 
that  I  play  the  best  flageolet  in  England  :  and  that  they  can 
no  more  supply  my  place,  if  they  were  to  discard  me,  than 
they  could  fill  Thames  from  Fleet  Ditch." 

''  Well,  Master  Empson,  I  do  not  dispute  but  you  are  a 
man  of  talents,"  replied  the  lady;  ''still  I  say,  mind  the 
main  chance  ;  you  please  the  ear  to-day,  another  has  the  ad- 
vantage of  you  to-morroAV." 

"  Never,  mistress,  while  ears  have  the  heavenly  power  of 
distinguishing  one  note  from  another." 

"  Heavenly  power,  say  you.  Master  Empson  ?  "  said  the  lady. 

"Ay,  madam,  heavenly  ;  for  some  very  neat  verses  which 
^6  had  at  our  festival  say, 

What  know  we  of  the  blest  above, 
But  that  they  sing  and  that  they  love. 

[t  is  Master  Waller  wrote  them,  as  I  think  ;  who,  upon  my 
word,  ought  to  be  encouraged." 

"  And  so  should  you,  my  dear  Empson,"  said  the  dame, 
yawning,  "  were  it  only  for  the  honor  you  do  to  your  own 
profession.  But,  in  the  meantime,  will  you  ask  these  people 
to  have  some  refreshment  ?  and  will  you  take  some  yourself  ? 
The  chocolate  is  that  which  the  Ambassador  Portuguese 
fellow  brought  over  to  the  Queen." 

"  If  it  be  genuine,"  said  the  musician. 

"  How,  sir  I  said  the  fair  one,  half  rising  from  her  pile  of 
cushions — "  not  genuine,  and  in  this  house  !  Let  me  un- 
derstand you.  Master  Empson.  I  think,  when  I  first  saw 
you,  you  scarce  knew  chocolate  from  coffee." 

"  By  G^ — i  madam/'  answered  the  flageolet-player,  "  yoa 


356  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

are  perfectly  right.  And  how  can  I  show  better  how  mnch 
I  have  profited  by  your  ladyship^s  excellent  cheer,  except  by 
being  critical  ?" 

''You  stand  excused.  Master  Empson,"  said  the  petite 
mattresse,  sinking  gently  back  on  the  downy  couch,  from 
which  a  momentary  irritation  had  startled  her.  ^'^I  think 
the  chocolate  will  please  you,  though  scarce  equal  to  what 
we  had  from  the  Spanish  resident  Mendoza.  But  we  must 
offer  these  strange  people  something.  Will  you  ask  them  if 
they  would  have  coffee  and  chocolate,  or  cold  wild-fowl, 
fruit  and  wine  ?  They  must  be  treated,  so  as  to  show  them 
where  they  are,  since  here  they  are." 

'^  Unquestionably,  madam,"  said  Empson  ;  ^^  but  I  have 
just  at  this  instant  forgot  the  French  for  chocolate,  hot 
bread,  coffee,  game,  and  drinkables." 

*'  It  is  odd,"  said  the  lady  ;  ''  and  I  have  forgot  my  French 
and  Italian  at  the  same  moment.  But  it  signifies  little  :  I 
will  order  the  things  to  be  brought,  and  they  will  remember 
the  names  of  them  themselves." 

Empson  laughed  loudly  at  this  jest,  and  pawned  his  soul 
that  the  cold  sirloin,  which  entered  immediately  after,  was 
the  best  emblem  of  roast-beef  all  the  world  over.  Plentiful 
refreshments  were  offered  to  all  the  iparty,  of  which  both 
Fenella  and  Peveril  partook. 

In  the  meanw^hile,  the  flageolet-player  drew  closer  to  the 
side  of  the  lady  of  the  mansion  ;  their  intimacy  was  cemented, 
and  their  spirits  set  afloat,  by  a  glass  of  liqueur,  which  gave 
them  additional  confidence  in  discussing  the  characters  as 
well  of  the  superior  attendants  of  the  court  as  of  the  inferior 
rank,  to  which  they  themselves  might  be  supposed  to  be- 
long. 

The  lady,  indeed,  during  this  conversation,  frequently 
exerted  her  complete  and  absolute  superiority  over  Master 
Empson  ;  in  which  that  musical  gentleman  humbly  acqui- 
esced whenever  the  circumstance  was  recalled  to  his  attention, 
whether  in  the  way  of  blunt  contradiction,  ^sarcastic  insinua- 
tion, downright  assumption  of  higher  importance,  or  in  any 
of  the  other  various  modes  by  which  such  superiority  is 
usually  asserted  and  maintained.  But  the  lady's  obvious 
love  of  scandal  was  the  lure  which  very  soon  brought  her 
again  down  from  the  dignified  port  which  for  a  moment  she 
assumed,  and  placed  her  once  more  on  a  gossiping  level  with 
her  companion. 

Their  conversation  was  too  trivial,  and  too  much  allied  to 
petty  court  intrigues  with  which  he. T^as  totally  unacquainted, 


I 


PBVSRIL  OF  THE  PEAK  357 

to  be  in  the  least  interesting  to  Julian.  As  it  continued  for 
more  than  an  hour,  he  soon  ceased  to  pay  the  least  attention 
to  a  discourse  consisting  of  nicknames,  patchwork,  and 
innuendo  ;  and  employed  himself  in  reflecting  on  his  own 
complicated  affairs,  and  the  probable  issue  of  his  approach- 
ing audience  with  the  King,  which  had  been  brought  about 
by  so  singular  an  agent,  and  by  means  so  unexpected.  He 
often  looked  to  his  guide,  Fenella,  and  observed  that  she  was, 
for  the  greater  part  of  the  time,  drowned  in  deep  and  ab- 
stracted meditation.  But  three  or  four  times — and  it  was 
when  the  assumed  airs  and  affected  importance  of  the  mu- 
sician and  their  hostess  rose  to  the  most  extravagant  excess 
— he  observed  that  Fenella  dealt  askance  on  them  some  of 
those  bitter  and  almost  blighting  elfin  looks  which  in  the 
Isle  of  Man  were  held  to  imply  contemptuous  execration. 
There  was  something  in  all  her  manner  so  extraordinary, 
joined  to  her  subdued  appearance,  and  her  demeanor  in  the 
King's  presence,  so  oddly,  yet  so  well,  contrived  to  procure 
him  a  private  audience — which  he  might,  by  graver  means, 
have  sought  in  vain — that  it  almost  justified  the  idea,  though 
he  smiled  at  it  internally,  that  the  little  mute  agent  was 
aided  in  her  machinations  by  the  kindred  imps  to  whom, 
according  to  Manx  superstition,  her  genealogy  was  to  be 
traced. 

Another  idea  sometimes  occurred  to  Julian,  though  he 
rejected  the  question  as  being  equally  wild  with  those  doubts 
which  referred  Fenella  to  a  race  different  from  that  of 
mortals — ^'^Was  she  really  afflicted  with  those  organical  im- 
perfections which  had  always  seemed  to  sever  her  from  hu- 
manity ?  If  not,  what  could  be  the  motives  of  so  young  a 
creature  practising  so  dreadful  a  penance  for  such  an  un- 
remitted term  of  years  ?  And  how  formidable  must  be  the 
strength  of  mind  which  could  condemn  itself  to  so  terrific 
a  sacrifice,  how  deep  and  strong  the  purpose  for  which  it 
was  undertaken  !  '^ 

But  a  brief  recollection  of  past  events  enabled  him  to 
dismiss  this  conjecture  as  altogether  wild  and  visionary.  He 
had  but  to  call  to  memory  the  various  stratagems  practised 
by  his  light-hearted  companion,  the  young  Earl  of  Derby, 
upon  this  forlorn  girl,  the  conversations  held  in  her  pres- 
ence, in  which  the  character  of  a  creature  so  irritable  and 
sensitive  upon  all  occasions  was  freely,  and  sometimes  satiri- 
cally, discussed,  without  her  expressing  the  least  acquaint- 
ance with  what  was  going  forward,  to  convince  him  that  so 
deep  a  deception  could  never  have  been  practised  for  so 


358  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

many  years  by  a  being  of  a  turn  of  mind  so  peculiarly  jealous 
and  irascible. 

He  renounced,  therefore,  the  idea,  and  turned  his  thoughts 
to  his  own  affairs  and  his  approaching  interview  with  his  sov- 
ereign in  which  meditation  we  propose  to  leave  him  until 
we  briefly  review  the  changes  which  had  taken  place  in  the 
situation  of  Alice  Bridgenorth. 


CHAPTER   XXXI 

I  fear  the  devil  worst  when  gown  and  cassock. 
Or,  in  the  lack  of  them,  old  Calvin's  cloak, 
Conceals  his  cloven  hoof. 

Anonymous. 

Julian  Peveril  had  scarce  sei  sail  for  Whitehaven,  when 
Alice  Bridgenorth  and  her  governante,  at  the  hasty  com- 
mand of  her  father,  were  embarked  with  equal  speed  and 
secrecy  on  board  of  a  bark  bound  for  Liverpool.  Christian 
accompanied  them  on  their  voyage,  as  the  friend  to  whose 
guardianship  Alice  was  to  be  consigned  during  any  future 
separation  from  her  father,  and  whose  amusing  conversation, 
joined  to  his  pleasing  though  cold  manners,  as  well  as  his 
near  relationship,  induced  Alice,  in  her  forlorn  situation,  to 
consider  her  fate  as  fortunate  in  having  such  a  guardian. 

At  Liverpool,  as  the  reader  already  knows.  Christian  took 
the  first  overt  step  in  the  villainy  which  he  had  contrived 
against  the  innocent  girl,  by  exposing  her  at  a  meeting-house 
to  the  unhallowed  gaze  of  Chiffinch,  in  order  to  convince 
him  she  was  possessed  of  such  uncommon  beauty  as  might 
well  deserve  the  infamous  promotion  to  which  they  meditated 
to  raise  her. 

Highly  satisfied  with  her  personal  appearance,  Chiffinch 
was  no  less  so  with  the  sense  and  delicacy  of  her  conversa- 
tion, when  he  met  her  in  company  with  her  uncle  afterwards 
in  London.  The  simplicity,  and  at  the  same  time  the  spirit, 
of  her  remarks  made  him  regard  her  as  his  scientific  attend- 
ant the  cook  might  have  done  a  newly  invented  sauce,  suf- 
ficiently piquante  in  its  qualities  to  awaken  the  jaded 
appetite  of  a  cloyed  and  gorged  epicure.  ''  She  was,"  he 
said  and  swore,  *'  the  very  corner-stone  on  which,  with  proper 
management,  and  with  his  instructions,  a  few  honest  fellows 
might  build  a  court  fortune." 

That  the  necessary  introduction  might  take  place,  the 
confederates  judged  fit  she  should  be  put  under  the  charge 
of  an  experienced  lady,  whom  some  called  Mistress  Chiffinch, 
and  others  Chiffinch's  mistress — one  of  those  obliging  crea- 
tures who  are  willing  to  discharge  all  the  duties  of  a  wife 
without  the  inconvenient  and  indissoluble  ceremony. 


360  WA  VERLEY  NO  VEL8 

It  was  one,  and  not  perhaps  the  least,  prejudicial  con- 
sequence of  the  license  of  that  ill-governed  time,  that  the 
bounds  betwixt  virtue  and  vice  were  so  far  smoothed  down 
and  leveled,  that  the  frail  wife,  or  the  tender  friend  who 
was  no  wife,  did  not  necessarily  lose  their  place  in  society ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  if  they  moved  in  the  higher  circles, 
were  permitted  and  encouraged  to  mingle  with  women 
whose  rank  was  certain  and  whose  reputation  was  untainted. 

A  regular  liaison,  like  that  of  Chiffinch  aild  his  fair  one, 
inferred  little  scandal  ;  and  such  was  his  influence,  as  prime 
minister  of  his  master's  pleasures,  that,  as  Charles  himself 
expressed  it,  the  lady  whom  we  introduced  to  our  readers  in 
the  last  chapter  had  obtained  a  brevet  commission  to  rank 
as  a  married  woman.  And  to  do  the  gentle  dame  justice,  no 
wife  could  have  been  more  attentive  to  forward  his  plans, 
or  more  liberal  in  disposing  of  his  income. 

She  inhabited  a,  set  of  apartments  called  Chiffinch's — the 
scene  of  many  an  intrigue,  both  of  love  and  politics ;  and 
where  Charles  often  held  his  private  parties  for  the  evening, 
when,  as  frequently  happened,  the  ill-humor  of  the  Duchess 
of  Portsmouth,  his  reigning  sultana,  prevented  his  supping 
with  her.  The  hold  which  such  an  arrangement  gave  a  man 
like  Chiffinch,  used  as  he  well  knew  how  to  use  it,  made  him 
of  too  much  consequence  to  be  slighted  even  by  the  first 
persons  in  the  state,  unless  they  stood  aloof  from  all  manner 
of  politics  and  court  intrigue. 

in  the  charge  of  Mistress  Chiffinch,  and  of  him  whose 
name  she  bore,  Edward  Christian  placed  the  daughter  of  his 
sister  and  of  his  confiding  friend,  calmly  contemplating  her 
ruin  as  an  event  certain  to  follow;  and  hoping  to  .ground 
upon  it  his  own  chance  of  a  more  assured  fortune  than  a 
life  spent  in  intrigue  had  hitherto  been  able  to  procure  for 
him. 

The  innocent  Alice,  without  being  able  to  discover  what 
was  wrong  either  in  the  scenes  of  unusual  luxury  with  which 
she  was  surrounded  or  in  the  manners  of  her  hostess,  which, 
both  from  nature  and  policy,  were  kind  and  caressing,  felt 
nevertheless  an  instinctive  apprehension  that  all  was  not 
right — a  feeling  in  the  human  mind  allied,  perhaps,  to  that 
sense  of  danger  which  animals  exhibit  when  placed  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  natural  enemies  of  their  race,  and  which  makes 
birds  cower  when  the  hawk  is  in  the  air,  and  beasts  tremble 
when  the  tiger  is  abroad  in  the  desert.  There  was  a  heavi- 
ness at  her  heart  which  she  could  not  dispel ;  and  the  few 
hours  which  she  bad  already  spent  at  Cbiffinch's  were  like 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  361 

those  passed  in  a  prison  by  one  unconscious  of  the  cause  or 
event  of  his  captivity.  It  was  the  third  morning  after  her 
arrival  in  London  that  the  scene  took  place  which  we  now 
recur  to. 

The  impertinence  and  vulgarety  of  Empson,  which  was 
permitted  to  him  as  an  unrivaled  performer  upon  his  in- 
strument, were  exhausting  themselves  at  the  expense  of 
all  other  musical  professors,  and  Mistress  Chiffinch  was 
listening  with  cai-eless  indifference,  when  some  one  was 
heard  speaking  loudly,  and  with  animation,  in  the  inner 
apartment. 

'^  0  gemini  and  gilliflower  water  !^' exclaimed  the  damsel, 
startled  out  of  her  fine  airs  into  her  natural  vulgarity  of  ex- 
clamation, and  running  to  the  door  of  communication,  ''  if 
he  has  not   come  back  again  after   all  !  and   if   Old  Row- 

ley " 

A  tap  at  the  further  and  opposite  door  here  arrested  her 
attention  ;  she  quitted  the  handle  of  that  which  she  was 
about  to  open  as  speedily  as  if  it  had  burnt  her  fingers,  and, 
moving  back  towards  her  couch,  asked,  *^  Who  is  there  ?" 

"  Old  Rowley  himself,  madam,''  said  the  King,  entering 
the  apartment  with  his  usual  air  of  easy  composure. 

'^  0  crimini  !  your  Majesty  !     I  thought " 

"  That  I  was  out  of  hearing,  doubtless,''  said  the  King  ; 
'^  and  spoke  of  me  as  folks  speak  of  absent  friends.  Make 
no  apology.  I  think  I  have  heard  ladies  say  of  their  lace, 
that  a  rent  is  better  than  a  darn.  Nay,  be  seated.  Where 
is  Chiffinch?" 

"  He  is  down  at  York  House,  your  Majesty,"  said  the 
dame,  recovering,  though  with  no  small  difficulty,  the  calm 
affectation  of  her  usual  demeanor.  "Shall  I  send  your 
Majesty's  commands  ?" 

"  I  will  wait  his  return,"*  said  the  King.  ''  Permit  me  to 
taste  your  chocolate." 

"  There  is  some  fresh  frothed  in  the  office,"  said  the  lady ; 
and  using  a  little  silvex'  call,  or  whistle,  a  black  boy,  superbly 
dressed  like  an  Oriental  page,  with  gold  bracelets  on  his 
naked  arms  and  a  gold  collar  around  his  equally  bare  neck, 
attended  with  the  favorite  beverage  of  the  morning,  in  an 
apparatus  of  the  richest  china. 

While  he  sipped  his  cup  of  chocolate,  the  King  looked 
round  the  apartment,  and  observing  Fenella,  Peveril,  and 
the  musician,  who  remained  standing  beside  a  large  Indian 
screen,  he  continued,  addressing  Mistress  Chiffinch,  though 
with  polite  indifference,  "  I  sent  you  the  fiddles  this  morn- 


362  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

ing — or  rather  the  flute — Empson,  and  a  fairy  elf  whom  I 
met  in  the  Park,  who  dances  divinely.  She  has  brought  us 
the  very  newest  saraband  from  the  court  of  Queen  Mab,  and 
I  sent  her  here  that  you  may  see  it  at  leisure.'^ 

"  Your  Majesty  does  me  by  far  too  much  honor/'  said 
Chiffinch,  her  eyes  properly  cast  down,  and  her  accents 
minced  into  becoming  humility. 

**  Nay,  little  Chiffinch, ''  answered  the  King,  in  a  tone  oi 
as  contemptuous  familiarity  as  was  consistent  with  his  good- 
breeding,  "  it  was  not  altogether  for  thine  own  private  ear, 
though  quite  deserving  of  all  sweet  sounds  ;  but  I  thought 
Nelly  had  been  with  thee  this  morning.'' 

"  I  can  send  Bajazet  for  her,  your  Majesty,"  answered  the 
lady. 

'*  Nay,  I  will  not  trouble  your  little  heathen  sultan  to  go 
so  far.  Still,  it  strikes  me  that  Chiffinch  said  you  had  com- 
pany^some  country  cousin,  or  such  a  matter.  Is  there  not 
such  a  person  ?  " 

*'  There  is  a  young  person  from  the  country,"  said  Mis- 
tress Chiffinch,  striving  to  conceal  a  considerable  portion  of 
embarrassment ;  **but  she  is  unprepared  for  such  an  honor 
as  to  be  admitted  into  your  Majesty's  presence,  and " 

'^  And  therefore  the  fitter  to  receive  it,  Chiffinch.  There 
is  nothing  in  nature  so  beautiful  as  the  first  blush  of  a  little 
rustic  between  joy  and  fear,  and  wonder  and  curiosity.  It 
is  the  down  on  the  peach — pity  it  decays  so  soon  !  The 
fruit  remains,  but  the  first  high  coloring  and  exquisite 
flavor  are  gone.  Never  put  up  thy  lip  for  the  matter, 
Chiffinch,  for  it  is  as  I  tell  you  ;  so  pray  let  us  have  la  belle 
cousine." 

Mistress  Chiffinch,  more  embarrassed  than  ever,  again 
advanced  towards  the  door  of  communication,  which  she 
had  been  in  the  act  of  opening  when  his  Majesty  entered. 
But  just  as  she  coughed  pretty  loudly,  perhaps  as  a  signal 
to  some  one  within,  voices  were  again  heard  in  a  raised  tone 
of  altercation  ;  the  door  was  flung  open,  and  Alice  rushed 
out  of  the  inner  apartment,  followed  to  the  door  of  it  by  the 
enterprising  Duke  of  Buckingham,  who  stood  fixed  with 
astonishment  on  finding  his  pursuit  of  the  flying  fair  one 
had  hurried  him  into  the  presence  of  the  King. 

Alice  Bridgenorth  appeared  too  much  transported  with 
anger  to  permit  her  to  pay  attention  to  the  rank  or  charac- 
ter of  the  company  into  which  she  had  thus  suddenly  en- 
tered. ''  I  remain  no  longer  here,  madam,"  she  said  to  Mrs. 
Chiffinch,  in  a  tone  of  uncontrollable  resolution  ;  '*'  I  leave 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  363 

instantly  a  house  where  I  am  exposed  to  company  which  I 
detest,  and  to  solicitations  which  I  despise/' 

The  dismayed  Mistress  Chiffinch  could  only  implore  her, 
in  broken  whispers,  to  be  silent  ;  adding,  while  she  pointed 
to  Charles,  who  stood  with  his  eyes  fixed  rather  on  his  au- 
dacious courtier  than  on  the  game  which  he  pursued,  **  The 
King— the  King!'' 

*^If  I  am  in  the  King's  presence,"  said  Alice,  aloud,  and 
in  the  same  torrent  of  passionate  feeling,  while  her  eyes 
sparkled  th!*ough  tears  of  resentment  and  insulted  modesty, 
*'  it  is  the  better  ;  it  is  his  Majesty's  duty  to  protect  me,  and 
on  his  protection  I  throw  myself." 

These  words,  which  were  spoken  aloud  and  boldly,  at 
once  recalled  Julian  to  himself,  who  had  hitherto  stood,  as 
it  were,  bewildered.  He  approached  Alice,  and  whispering 
in  her  ear  that  she  had  beside  her  one  who  would  defend 
her  with  his  life,  implored  her  to  trust  to  his  guardianship 
in  this  emergency. 

Clinging  to  his  arm  in  all  the  ecstasy  of  gratitude  and 
joy,  the  spirit  which  had  so  lately  invigorated  Alice  in  her 
own  defense  gave  way  in  a  flood  of  tears,  when  she  saw  her- 
self supported  by  him  whom  perhaps  she  most  wished  to 
recognize  as  her  protector.  She  permitted  Peveril  gently 
to  draw  her  back  towards  the  screen  before  which  he  had 
been  standing  ;  where,  holding  by  his  arm,  but  at  the  same 
time  endeavoring  to  conceal  herself  behind  him,  they  waited 
the  conclusion  of  a  scene  so  singular. 

The  King  seemed  at  first  so  much  surprised  at  the  unex- 
pected apparition  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  as  to  pay  lit- 
tle or  no  attention  to  Alice,  who  had  been  the  means  of  thus 
unceremoniously  introducing  his  Grace  into  the  presence  at 
a  most  unsuitable  moment.  In  that  intriguing  court,  it  had 
not  been  the  first  time  that  the  duke  had  ventured  to  enter 
the  lists  of  gallantry  in  rivalry  of  his  sovereign,  which  made 
the  present  insult  the  more  intolerable.  His  purpose  of 
lying  concealed  in  these  private  apartments  was  explained 
by  the  exclamation  of  Alice ;  and  Charles,  notwithstanding 
the  placidity  of  his  disposition,  and  his  habitual  guard  over 
his  passions,  resented  the  attempt  to  seduce  his  destined 
mistress,  as  an  Eastern  sultan  would  have  done  the  insolence 
of  a  vizier,  who  anticipated  his  intended  purchases  of  cap- 
tive beauty  in  the  slave  market.  The  swarthy  features  of 
Charles  reddened,  and  the  strong  lines  on  his  dark  visage 
seemed  to  become  inflated,  as  he  said,  in  a  voice  which  fal- 
tered with  passion,  "  Buckingham,  you  dared  not  have  thus 


364  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

insulted  your  equal  !  To  your  master  you  may  securely 
offer  any  affront,  since  his  rank  glues  his  sword  to  the  scab- 
bard." 

The  haughty  duke  did  not  brook  this  taunt  unanswered. 
*'  My  sword,"  he  said,  with  emphasis,  ''  was  never  in  the 
scabbard  when  your  Majesty ^s  service  required  it  should  bu 
unsheathed." 

*'  Your  Grace  means,  when  its  service  was  required  for  its 
master's  interest,"  said  the  King  ;  "  for  you  could  only  gain 
the  coronet  of  a  duke  by  fighting  for  the  royal  ^rown.  Bub 
it  is  over ;  I  have  treated  you  as  a  friend — a  companion- 
almost  an  equal — you  have  repaid  me  with  insolence  and 
ingratitude. 

*^  Sire,"  answered  the  duke,  firmly,  but  respectfully,  "I 
am  unhappy  in  your  displeasure  ;  yet  thus  far  fortunate, 
that,  while  your  words  can  confer  honor,  they  cannot  im- 
pair or  take  it  away.  It  is  hard,"  he  added,  lowering  hii 
voice  so  as  only  to  be  heard  by  the  King — *' it  is  hard  that 
the  squall  of  a  peevish  wench  should  cancel  the  services  of 
so  many  years  !  " 

*'  It  is  harder,"  said  the  King,  in  the  same  subdued  tone, 
which  both  preserved  through  the  rest  of  the  conversation, 
"  that  a  wench's  bright  eyes  can  make  a  nobleman  forget  the 
decencies  due  to  his  sovereign's  privacy." 

"  May  I  presume  to  ask  your  Majesty  what  decencies  are 
those  ?  "  said  the  duke. 

Charles  bit  his  lip  to  keep  himself  from  smiling.  '*  Buck- 
ingham," he  said,  ^^this  is  a  foolish  business  ;  and  we  must 
not  forget,  as  we  have  nearly  done,  that  we  have  an  audience 
to  witness  this  scene,  and  should  walk  the  stage  with  dignity. 
I  will  show  you  your  fault  in  private." 

''It  is  enough  that  your  Majesty  has  been  displeased,  and 
that  I  have  unhappily  been  the  occasion,"  said  the  duke, 
reverently,  ''  altliough  quite  ignorant  of  any  purpose  beyond 
a  few  words  of  gallantry  ;  and  I  sue  thus  low  for  your  Maj- 
esty's pardon." 

So  saying,  he  kneeled  gracefully  down.  "  Thou  hast  it, 
G-eorge,"  said  the  placable  prince.  ''  I  believe  thou  wilt  be 
sooner  tired  of  offending  than  I  of  forgiving." 

"  Long  may  your  Majesty  live  to  give  the  offense  with 
which  it  is  your  royal  pleasure  at  present  to  charge  my  in- 
nocence," said  the  duke. 

''What  mea,n  you  by  that,  my  lord  ?"  said  Charles,  the 
ftngry  shade  returning  to  his  brow  for  a  moment. 

" My  liege,"  replied  the  duke,  "you  are  too  honorable  to 


PMVEitlL  OF  THE  PEAK  m 

deny  your  custom  of  shooting  with  Cupid's  bird-bolts  in 
other  men^s  warrens.  You  have  ta'en  the  royal  right  of  free 
forestry  over  every  man's  park.  It  is  hard  that  you  should 
be  so  much  displeased  at  hearing  a  chance  arrow  whizz  near 
your  own  pales. ^' 

''  No  more  on'i"  said  the  King ;  "  but  let  us  see  where 
the  dove  has  harbored." 

"  The  Helen  has  found  a  Paris  while  we  were  quarreling/' 
replied  the  duke. 

'^  Eather  an  Orpheus/'  said  the  King ;  "  and,  what  is 
worse,  one  that  is  already  provided  with  a  Eurydice.  She 
is  clinging  to  the  fiddler." 

*'It  is  mere  fright,"  said  Buckingham,  *^like  Rochester's, 
when  he  crept  into  the  bass-viol  to  hide  himself  from  Sir 
Dermot  O'Oleaver." 

'"^  We  must  make  the  people  show  their  talents,"  said  the 
King,  '^  and  stop  their  mouths  with  money  and  civility,  or 
we  shall  have  this  foolish  encounter  ovier  half  the  town." 

The  King  then  approached  Julian,  and  desired  him  to 
take  his  instrument  and  cause  his  female  companion  to  per- 
form a  saraband. 

"  I  had  already  the  honor  to  inform  your  Majesty,"  said 
Julian,  ^' that  I  cannot  contribute  to  your  pleasure  in  the 
way  you  command  me  ;  and  that  this  young  j)erson  is " 

''A  retainer  of  the  Lady  Powis/'  said  the  King,  upon 
whose  mind  things  not  connected  with  his  pleasure  made  a 
very  slight  impression.  "  Poor  lady,  she  is  in  trouble  about 
the  lords  in  the  Tower." 

"Pardon  me,  sir,"  said  Julian,  *^she  is  a  dependant  of 
Vhe  Countess  of  Derby." 

"  True — true,"  answered  Charles  ;  "it  is  indeed  of  Lady 
Derby,  who  hath  also  her  own  distresses  in  these  times.  Do 
you  know  who  taught  the  young  person  to  dance  ?  Some  of 
her  steps  mightily  resemble  Le  Jeune's  of  Paris." 

"  I  presume  she  was  taught  abroad,  sir/'  said  Julian  ; 
''for  myself,  I  am  charged  with  some  weighty  business  by 
the  countess,  which  I  would  willingly  communicate  to  your 
Majesty." 

"  We  will  send  you  to  our  Secretary  of  State,"  said  the 
King.  "  But  this  dancing  envoy  will  oblige  us  once  more, 
will  she  not?  Empson,  now  that  I  remember,  it  was  to 
your  pipe  that  she  danced.  Strike  up,  man,  and  put  mettle 
into  her  feet." 

Empson  began  to  play  a  well-known  measure  ;  and,  as  he 
had  threatened,  made  more  than  one  false  note,  until  the 


S66  WA  VERLEY  NO  VELS 

King,  whose  ear  was  very  accurate,  rebuked  him  with, 
"Sirrah,  art  thou  drunk  at  this  early  hour,  or  must  thou  too 
be  playing  thy  slippery  tricks  with  me  ?  Thou  thinkest 
thou  art  born  to  beat  time,  but  I  will  have  time  beat  into 
thee/' 

The  hint  was  sufficient,  and  Empson  took  good  care  so  to 
perform  his  air  as  to  merit  his  high  and  deserved  reputation. 
But  on  Fenella  it  made  not  the  slightest  impression.  She 
rather  leant  than  stood  against  the  wall  of  the  apartment, 
her  countenance  as  pale  as  death,  her  arms  and  hands  hang- 
ing down  as  if  stiffened,  and  her  existence  only  testified  by 
the  sobs  which  agitated  her  bosom  and  the  tears  which  flowed 
from  her  half-closed  eyes. 

"  A  plague  on  it,''  said  the  King,  ''  some  evil  spirit  is 
abroad  this  morning,  and  the  wenches  are  all  bewitched,  I 
think.  Cheer  up,  my  girl.  What,  in  the  devil's  name,  has 
changed  thee  at  once  from  a  nymph  to  a  Niobe  ?  If  thou 
standest  there  longer,  thou  wilt  grow  to  the  very  marble 
wall.  Or — odds-fish,  George,  have  you  been  bird-bolting  in 
this  quarter  also  ?  " 

Ere  Buckingham  could  answer  to  this  charge,  Julian 
again  kneeled  down  to  the  King,  and  prayed  to  be  heard, 
were  it  only  for  five  minutes.  "  The  young  woman,"  he 
said,  ''  had  been  long  in  attendance  on  the  Countess  of  Derby. 
She  was  bereaved  of  the  faculties  of  speech  and  hearing." 

'•Odds-fish,  man,  and  dances  so  well?"  said  the  King. 
*'  Nay,  all  Gresham  College  shall  never  make  me  believe 
that." 

"  I  would  have  thought  it  equally  impossible  but  for  what 
I  to-day  witnessed,"  said  Julian  ;  "  but  only  permit  me,  sir, 
to  deliver  the  petition  of  my  lady  the  countess." 

"  And  who  art  thou  thyself,  man  ?  "  said  the  sovereign  ; 
*'for,  though  everything  which  wears  bodice  and  breast-knot 
has  a  right  to  speak  to  a  king  and  be  answered,  I  know  not 
that  they  have  a  title  to  audience  through  an  envoy  ex- 
traordinary." 

"  I  am  Julian  Peveril  of  Derbyshire,"  answered  the  sup- 
plicant, ''the  son  of  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  of  Martindale 
Castle,  who " 

"  Body  of  me — the  old  Worcester  man  ?"  said  the  King. 
"  Odds-fish,  I  remember  him  well  ;  some  harm  has  happened 
to  him,  I  think.     Is  he  not  dead,  or  very  sick  at  least  ?  " 

"  111  at  ease,  and  it  please  your  Majesty,  but  not  ill  in 
health.  He  has  been  imprisoned  on  account  of  alleged  acces- 
sion to  this  Plot." 


I 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  867 

'^  Look  you  there/'  said  the  King,  "  I  knew  he  was  in 
trouble  ;  and  yet  how  to  help  the  stout  old  knight  I  can 
hardly  tell.  I  can  scarce  escape  suspicion  of  the  Plot  my- 
self, though  the  principal  object  of  it  is  to  take  away  my 
own  life.  Were  I  to  stir  to  save  a  plotter,  I  should  certainly 
be  brought  in  as  an  accessary.  Buckingham,  thou  hast  some 
interest  with  those  who  built  this  fine  state  engine,  or  at 
least  who  have  driven  it  on — be  good-natured  for  once,  though 
it  is  scarcely  thy  wont,  and  interfere  to  shelter  our  old 
Worcester  friend,  Sir  Godfrey.     You  have  not  forgot  him  ?  " 

'*  No,  sir,''  answered  the  duke ;  ^^  for  I  never  heard  the 
name." 

*'  It  is  Sir  Geoffrey  his  Majesty  would  say,''  said  Julian. 

"  And  if  his  Majesty  did  say  Sir  Geoffrey,  Master  Peveril, 
I  cannot  see  of  what  use  I  can  be  to  your  father,"  replied  the 
duke,  coldly.  ^'  He  is  accused  of  a  heavy  crime ;  and  a 
British  subject  so  accused  can  have  no  shelter  either  from 
prince  or  peer,  but  must  stand  to  the  award  and  deliverance 
of  God  and  his  country." 

"  Now,  Heaven  forgive  thee  thy  hypocrisy,  George,"  said 
the  King,  hastily.  '*  I  would  rather  hear  the  devil  preach 
religion  than  thee  teach  patriotism.  Thou  knowest  as  well 
as  I  that  the  nation  is  in  a  scarlet  fever  for  fear  of  the  poor 
Catholics,  who  are  not  two  men  to  five  hundred ;  and  that 
the  public  mind  is  so  harassed  with  new  narrations  of  con- 
spiracy, and  fresh  horrors  every  day,  that  people  have  as  little 
real  sense  of  what  is  just  or  unjust  as  men  who  talk  in  their 
sleep  of  what  is  sense  or  nonsense.  I  have  borne  and  borne 
with  it ;  I  have  seen  blood  flow  on  the  scaffold,  fearing  to 
thwart  the  nation  in  its  fury  ;  and  I  pray  to  God  that  I  or 
mine  be  not  called  on  to  answer  for  it.  I  will  no  longer  swim 
with  the  torrent,  which  honor  and  conscience  call  upon  me  to 
stem  :  I  will  act  the  part  of  a  sovereign,  and  save  my  people 
from  doing  injustice,  even  in  their  own  despite. 

Charles  walked  hastily  up  and  down  the  room  as  he  expressed 
these  unwonted  sentiments,  with  energy  equally  unwonted. 
After  a  momentary  pause,  the  duke  answered  him  gravely, 
"  Spoken  like  a  royal  king,  sir  ;  but — pardon  me — not  like 
a  king  of  England." 

Charles  paused,  as  the  duke  spoke,  beside  a  window  which 
looked  full  on  Whitehall,  and  his  eye  was  involuntarily  at- 
tracted by  the  fatal  window  of  the  Banqueting  House,  out 
of  which  his  unhappy  father  was  conducted  to  execution. 
Charles  was  naturally,  or,  more  properly,  constitutionally, 
brave ;  but  a  life   of  pleasure,  together  with  the  habit  of 


368  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

governing  his  course  rather  by  what  was  expedient  than  by 
what  was  right,  rendered  him  unapt  to  dare  the  same  scene 
of  danger  or  of  martyrdom  which  had  closed  his  father's  life 
and  reign  ;  and  the  thought  came  over  his  half-formed 
resolution  like  the  rain  upon  a  kindling  beacon.  In  another 
man,  his  perplexity  would  have  seemed  almost  ludicrous; 
but  Charles  could  not  lose,  even  under  these  circum- 
stances, the  dignity  and  grace  which  were  as  natural  to 
him  as  his  indifference  and  his  good-humor.  '^  Our  council 
must  decide  in  this  matter,"  he  said,  looking  to  the  duke  ; 
*'  and  be  assured,  young  man,"  he  added,  addressing  Julian, 
**  your  father  shall  not  want  an  intercessor  in  his  king,  so 
far  as  the  laws  will  permit  my  interference  in  his  behalf." 

Julian  was  about  to  retire,  when  Fenella,  with  a  marked 
iook,  put  into  his  hand  a  slip  of  paper,  on  which  she  had 
hastily  written,  '^The  packet — give  him  the  packet." 

After  a  moment^s  hesitation,  during  which  he  reflected 
that  Fenella  was  the  organ  of  the  countess's  pleasure,  Julian 
resolved  to  obey.  "  Permit  me,  then,  sire,"  he  said,  '^  to 
place  in  your  royal  hands  this  packet,  entrusted  to  me  by 
the  Countess  of  Derby.  The  letters  have  already  been  once 
taken  from  me ;  and  I  have  little  hope  that  I  can  now  de- 
liver them  as  they  are  addressed.  I  place  them,  therefore, 
in  your  royal  hands,  certain  that  they  will  evince  the  inno- 
cence of  the  writer." 

The  King  shook  his  head  as  he  took  the  packet  reluct- 
antly. "  It  is  no  safe  office  you  have  undertaken,  young 
man,  A  messenger  has  sometimes  his  throat  cut  for  the 
sake  of  his  despatches.  But  give  them  to  me  ;  and,  Chiffinch, 
give  me  wax  and  a  taper."  He  employed  himself  in  folding 
the  countess's  packet  in  another  envelope.  **  Buckingham," 
he  said, ''  you  are  evidence  that  I  do  not  read  them  till  the 
council  shall  see  them." 

Buckingham  approached,  and  offered  his  services  in  fold- 
ing the  parcel,  but  Charles  rejected  his  assistance  ;  and 
having  finished  his  task,  he  sealed  the  packet  with  his  own 
signet-ring. 

The  duke  bit  his  lip  and  retired. 

''And  now,  young  man,"  said  the  King,  "your  errand  is 
sped,  so  far  as  it  can  at  present  be  forwarded." 

Julian  bowed  deeply,  as  to  take  leave  at  these  words, 
which  he  rightly  interpreted  as  *a  signal  for  his  departure. 
Alice  Bridgenorth  still  clung  to  his  arm,  and  motioned  to 
withdraw  along  with  him.  The  King  and  Buckingham 
looked  at  each  other  in  conscious  astonishment,  and  yei 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  360 

not  without  a  desire  to  smile,  so  strange  did  it  seem  to  them 
that  a  prize,  for  which,  an  instant  before,  they  had  been 
mutually  contending,  should  thus  glide  out  of  their  grasp, 
or  rather  be  borne  off  by  a  third  and  very  inferior  com- 
petitor. 

*^  Mistress  Chiffinch,"  said  the  King,  with  a  hesitation 
which  he  could  not  disguise,  "  I  hope  your  fair  charge  is 
not  about  to  leave  you  ?  " 

''  Certainly  not,  your  Majesty,'^  answered  Chiffinch. 
'^  Alice,  my  love,  you  mistake  ;  that  opposite  door  leads  to 
your  apartments/' 

'^  Pardon  me,  madam,''  answered  Alice  ;  ''^  I  have  indeed 
^mistaken  my  road,  but  it  was  when  I  came  hither." 

"The  errant  damozel,"  said  Buckingham,  looking  at 
Charles  with  as  much  intelligence  as  etiquette  permitted 
him  to  throw  into  his  eye,  and  then  turning  it  towards 
Alice,  as  she  still  held  by  Julian's  arm,  ''  is  resolved  not  to 
mistake  her  road  a  second  time.  She  has  chosen  a  sufficient 
guide." 

"  And  yet  stories  tell  that  such  guides  have  led  maidens 
astray,"  said  the  King. 

Alice  blushed  deeply,  but  instantly  recovered  her  com- 
posure so  soon  as  she  saw  that  her  liberty  was  likely  to 
depend  upon  the  immediate  exercise  of  resolution.  She 
quitted,  from  a  sense  of  insulted  delicacy,  the  arm  of  Julian, 
to  which  she  had  hitherto  clung  ;  but  as  she  spoke  she  con- 
tinued to  retain  a  slight  grasp  of  his  cloak.  "  I  have  indeed 
mistaken  my  way,"  she  repeated,  still  addressing  Mistress 
Chiffinch,  "  but  it  was  when  I  crossed  this  threshold.  The 
usage  to  which  I  have  been  exposed  in  your  house  has 
determined  me  to  quit  it  instantly." 

"I  will  not  permit  that,  my  young  mistress,"  answered 
Chiifinch,  ''until  your  uncle,  who  placed  you  under  my 
care,  shall  relieve  me  of  the  charge  of  you." 

"  I  will  answer  for  my  conduct  both  to  my  uncle  andj 
what  is  of  more  importance,  to  my  father,"  said  Alice. 
"  You  must  permit  me  to  depart,  madam  ;  I  am  free-born, 
and  you  have  no  right  to  detain  me." 

*'  Pardon  me,  my  young  madam,"  said  Mistress  Chiffinch, 
''  I  have  a  right,  and  I  will  maintain  it  too." 

*'I  will  know  that  before  quitting  this  presence,"  said 
Alice,  firmly ;  and,  advancing  a  step  or  two,  she  dropped  on 
her  knee  before  the  King.  "  Your  Majesty,"  said  she,  "  ii 
indeed  I  kneel  before  King  Charles,  is  the  father  of  you3 
subjects." 
34 


no  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  Of  a  good  many  of  them,"  said  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, apart, 

*  ^  I  demand  protection  of  you,  in  the  name  of  God  and  of 
the  oath  your  Majesty  swore  when  you  placed  on  your  head 
the  crosvn  of  this  kingdom  ! " 

*'  You  have  my  protection/*  said  the  King,  a  little  con- 
fused by  an  appeal  so  unexpected  and  so  solemn.  "  Do  but 
remain  quiet  with  this  lady,  with  whom  your  parents  have 
placed  you  ;  neither  Buckingham  nor  any  one  else  shall  in- 
trude on  you.*' 

"  His  Majesty,*'  added  Buckingham,  in  the  same  tone, 
and  speaking  from  the  restless  and  mischief-making  spirit 
of  contradiction,  which  he  never  could  restrain,  even  when 
indulging  it  was  most  contrary  not  only  to  propriety,  but  to 
his  own  interest — '^  his  Majesty  will  protect  you,  fair  lady, 
from  all  intrusion  save  what  must  not  be  termed  such.** 

Alice  darted  a  keen  look  on  the  duke,  as  if  to  read  his 
meaning  ;  another  on  Charles,  to  know  whether  she  had 
guessed  it  rightly.  There  was  a  guilty  confession  on  the 
King's  brow,  which  confirmed  Alice's  determination  to  de- 
part. "  Your  Majesty  will  forgive  me,**  she  said  ;  *'  it  is  not 
here  that  I  can  enjoy  the  advantage  of  your  royal  protection. 
I  am  resolved  to  leave  this  house.  If  I  am  detained,  it  must 
be  by  violence,  which  I  trust  no  one  dare  offer  me  in  your 
Majesty's  presence.  This  gentleman,  whom  I  have  long 
known,  will  conduct  me  to  my  friends.** 

"  We  make  bat  an  indifferent  figure  in  this  scene,  me- 
thinks,**  said  the  King,  addressing  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, and  speaking  in  a  whisper;  *' but  she  must  go.  I 
neither  will  nor  dare  stop  her  from  returning  to  hei 
father.** 

^'  And  if  she  does,**  swore  the  duke  internally,  '*  I  would, 
as  Sir  Andrew  saith,  I  might  never  touch  fair  lady's  hand." 
And  stepping  back,  he  spoke  a  few  words  with  Empson,  the 
musician,  who  left  the  apartment  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
presently  returned. 

The  King  seemed  irresolute  concerning  the  part  he  should 
act  under  circumstances  so  peculiar.  To  be  foiled  in  a  gal- 
lant intrigue  was  to  subject  himself  to  the  ridicule  of  his 
gay  court  ;  to  persist  in  it  by  any  means  which  approached 
to  constraint  would  have  been  tyrannical  ;  and,  what  per- 
haps he  might  judge  as  severe  an  imputation,  it  would  have 
been  unbecoming  a  gentleman.  ^*  Upon  my  honor,  young 
lady,"  he  said,  with  an  emphasis,  "  you  have  nothing  to  fear 
in  this  house.     But  it  is  improper,  for  your  own  sake,  that 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  871 

you  should  leave  it  in  this  abrupt  manner.  If  you  will  have 
the  goodness  to  wait  but  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  Mistress 
Chiffinch's  coach  will  be  placed  at  your  command,  to  trans- 
port you  where  you  will.  Spare  yourself  the  ridicule,  and 
me  the  pain,  of  seeing  you  leave  the  house  of  one  of  my 
servants  as  if  you  were  escaping  from  a  prison/' 

The  King  spoke  in  good-natured  sincerity,  and  Alice  was 
inclined  for  an  instant  to  listen  to  his  advice  ;  but  recollect- 
ing that  she  had  to  search  for  her  father  and  uncle,  or,  fail- 
ing them,  for  some  suitable  place  of  secure  residence,  it 
rushed  on  her  mind  that  the  attendants  of  Mistress  Chiffinch 
were  not  likely  to  prove  trusty  guides  or  assistants  in  such  a 
purpose.  Firmly  and  respectfully  she  announced  her  pur- 
pose of  instant  departure.  She  needed  no  other  escort,  she 
said,  than  what  this  gentleman.  Master  Julian  Peveril,  who 
was  well  known  to  her  father,  would  willingly  afford  her  ; 
nor  did  she  need  that  farther  than  until  she  had  reached  her 
father's  residence. 

*'  Farewell,  then,  lady,  a  God's  name  ! "  said  the  King. 
**  I  am  sorry  so  much  beauty  should  be  wedded  to  so  many 
shrewish  suspicions.  For  yuu.  Master  Peveril,  I  should  have 
thought  you  had  enough  to  do  with  your  own  affairs,  with- 
out interfering  with  the  humors  of  the  fair  sex.  The  duty 
of  conducting  all  strayed  damsels  into  the  right  path  is,  as 
matters  go  in  this  good  city,  rather  too  weighty  an  under- 
taking for  yonr  youtli  and  inexperience." 

Julian,  eager  to  conduct  Alice  safe  from  a  place  of  which 
he  began  fully  to  appreciate  the  perils,  answered  nothing  to 
this  taunt,  but,  bowing  reverently,  led  her  from  the"  apart- 
ment. Her  sudden  appearance,  and  the  animated  scene 
which  followed,  had  entirely  absorbed,  for  the  moment,  the 
recollection  of  his  father  and  of  the  Countess  of  Derby  ;  and 
while  the  dumb  attendant  of  the  latter  remained  in  the 
room,  a  silent  and,  as  it  were,  stunned  spectator  of  all  that 
had  happened,  Peveril  had  become  in  the  predominating 
interest  of  Alice's  critical  situation,  totally  forgetful  of  her 
presence.  But  no  sooner  had  he  left  the  room,  without 
noticing  or  attending  to  her,  than  Fenella,  starting  as  from 
a  trance,  drew  herself  up  and  looked  wildly  around,  like  one 
waking  from  a  dream,  as  if  to  assure  herself  that  her  com- 
panion was  gone,  and  gone  without  paying  the  slightest 
attention  to  her.  She  folded  her  hands  together,  and  cast 
her  eyes  upwards  with  an  expression  of  such  agony  as  ex- 
plained to  Charles,  as  he  thought,  what  painful  ideas  were 
passing  in  her  mind.     '*  This  Peveril  is  a  perfect  pattern  of 


872  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

successful  perfidy,"  said  the  King  :  *^^  he  has  not  only  suc- 
ceeded at  first  sight  in  carrying  oif  this  queen  of  the  ama- 
zons,  but  he  has  left  us,  I  think,  a  disconsolate  Ariadne  in 
her  place.  But  weep  not,  my  princess  of  pretty  movements/^ 
he  said,  addressing  himself  to  Fenella  ;  *'  if  we  cannot  call 
in  Bacchus  to  console  you,  we  will  commit  you  to  the  care  of 
Empson,  who  shall  drink  with  Liber  Pater  for  a  thousand 
pounds,  and  I  will  say  done  first." 

As  the  King  spoke  these  words,  Fenella  rushed  past  him 
with  her  wonted  rapidity  of  step,  and,  with  much  less  cour- 
tesy than  was  due  to  the  royal  presence,  hurried  downstairs 
and  out  of  the  house,  without  attempting  to  open  any  com- 
munication with  the  monarch.  He  saw  her  abrupt  depart- 
ure with  more  surprise  than  displeasure ;  and  presently 
afterwards,  bursting  into  a  fit  of  laughter,  he  said  to  the 
duke,  *'  Odds-fish,  George,  this  young  spark  might  teach 
the  best  of  us  how  to  manage  the  wenches.  I  have  had  my 
own  experience,  but  I  could  never  yet  contrive  either  to  win 
or  lose  them  with  so  little  ceremony." 

'^  Experience,  sir,"  replied  the  duke,  ''cannot  be  acquired 
without  years." 

''  True,  George  ;  and  you  would,  I  suppose,  insinuate," 
said  Charles,  ''that  the  gallant  who  acquires  it  loses  as  much 
in  youth  as  he  gains  in  art  ?  I  defy  your  insinuation, 
George.  You  cannot  overreach  your  master,  old  as  you 
think  him,  either  in  love  or  politics.  You  have  not  the 
QQCVQi  plumer  la  poule  sans  la  f aire  cWer— witness  this  morn- 
ing's work.  I  will  give  you  odds  at  all  games — ay,  and  at 
the  mall  too,  if  thou  darest  accept  my  challenge.  Chiffinch, 
what  for  dost  thou  convulse  thy^  pretty  throat  and  face  with 
sobbing  and  hatching  tears,  which  seem  rather  unwilling  to 
make  their  appearance  ?  " 

"  It  is  for  fear,"  whined  Chiffinch,  "  that  your  Majesty 
should  think — that  you  should  expect— — " 

"That  I  should  expect  gratitude  from  a  courtier,  or  faith 
from  a  woman?"  answered  the  King,  patting  her  at  the 
same  time  time  under  the  chin,  to  make  her  raise  her  face. 
"  Tush  !  chicken,  I  am  not  so  superfluous." 

.  "  There  it  is  now,  said  Chiffinch,  continuing  to  sob  the 
more  bitterly,  as  she  felt  herself  unable  to  produce  any  tears', 
"  I  see  your  Majesty  is  determined  to  lay  all  the  blame  on 
me,  when  I  am  innocent  as  an  unborn  babe  ;  I  will  be  judged 
by  his  Grace." 

"No  doubt— no  doubt,  Chiffie,''  the  King.  "His  Grace 
ftnd  you  will  be  excellent  judges  in  each  other's  cause,  and 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  373 

as  good  witnesses  in  each  other's  favor.     But  to  investigate 
the  matter  impartially,  we  must  examine  our  evidence  apart. 
My  lord  duke,  we  meet  at  the  Mall  at  noon,  if  your  Grace 
dare  accept  my  challenge/' 
His  Grace  of  Buckingham  bowed  and  retired. 


K.'iV 


CHAPTER  XXXn 

But  when  the  bully  with  assuming  pace 

Cocks  his  broad  hat,  edged  round  with  tarnish 'd  lace. 

Yield  not  the  way  ;  defy  his  strutting  pride, 

And  thrust  him  to  the  muddy  kennel's  side. 

Yet  rather  bear  the  shower  and  toils  of  mud 

Than  in  the  doubtful  quarrel  risk  thy  blood. 

Gay's  Trivia. 

Julian  Peveril,  half -leading,  half -supporting  Alice  Bridge- 
north,  had  reached  the  middle  of  St.  James's  Street  ere  the 
doubt  occurred  to  him  which  way  they  should  bend  their 
course.  He  than  asked  Alice  whither  he  should  conduct 
her,  and  learned,  to  his  surprise  and  embarrassment,  that,  far 
from  knowing  where  her  father  was  to  be  found,  she  had  no 
certain  knowledge  that  he  was  in  London,  and  only  hoped 
that  he  had  arrived,  from  the  expressions  which  he  had  used 
at  parting.  She  mentioned  her  uncle  Christian's  address, 
but  it  was  with  doubt  and  hesitation,  arising  from  the  hands 
in  which  he  had  already  placed  her  ;  and  her  reluctance  to 
go  again  under  his  protection  was  strongly  confirmed  by  her 
youthful  guide,  when  a  few  words  had  established  to  his  con- 
viction the  identity  of  Ganlesse  and  Christian.  What  then 
was  to  be  done  ? 

*'  Alice,"  said  Julian,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  *'  you 
must  seek  your  earliest  and  best  friend  ;  I  mean  my  mother. 
She  has  now  no  castle  in  which  to  receive  you  ;  she  has  but 
a  miserable  lodging,  so  near  the  jail  in  which  my  father  is 
confined  that  it  seems  almost  a  cell  of  the  same  prison.  I 
have  not  seen  her  since  my  coming  hither  ;  but  thus  much 
have  I  learned  by  inquiry.  We  will  now  go  to  her  apart- 
ment ;  such  as  it  is,  I  know  she  will  share  it  with  one  so 
innocent  and  so  unprotected  as  you  are." 

'*  Gracious  Heaven  ! "  said  the  poor  girl,  "  am  I  then  so 
totally  deserted,  that  I  must  throw  myself  on  the  mercy  of 
her  who,  of  all  the  world,  has  most  reason  to  spurn  me  from 
her  ?  Julian,  can  you  advise  me  to  this  ?  Is  there  none  else 
who  will  afford  me  a  few  hours'  refuge,  till  I  can  hear  from 
my  father  ? — no  other  protectress  but  her  whose  ruin  has,  I 
fear,  been  accelerated  by Julian,  I  dare  not  appear  be- 
fore your  mother  !  She  must  hate  me  for  my  family,  and 
despise  me  for  my  meanness.     To  be  a  second  time  cast  on 

874 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  375 

her  protection,  when  the  first  has  been  so  evil  repaid  !  Julian, 
I  dare  not  go  with  you  ! " 

"  She  has  never  ceased  to  love  you,  Alice,^'  said  her  con- 
ductor, whose  steps  she  continued  to  attend,  even  while  de- 
claring her  resolution  not  to  go  with  him :  "  she  never  felt 
anything  but  kindness  towards  you,  nay,  towards  your 
father  ;  for  though  his  dealings  with  us  have  been  harsh, 
she  can  allow  much  for  the  provocation  which  he  has  re- 
ceived. Believe  me,  with  her  you  will  be  safe  as  with  a 
mother — perhaps  may  be  the  means  of  reconciling  the  divis- 
ions by  which  we  have  suffered  so  much/^ 

"Might  God  grant  it  !"  said  Alice.  "Yet  how  shall  I 
face  your  mother  ?  And  will  she  be  able  to  protect  me 
against  these  powerful  men — against  my  uncle  Christian  ? 
Alas,  that  I  must  call  him  my  worst  enemy  ! " 

"  She  has  the  ascendency  which  honor  hath  over  infamy, 
and  virtue  over  vice,"  said  Julian;  "and  to  no  human 
power  but  your  father^s  will  she  resign  you,  if  you  consent 
to  choose  her  for  your  protectress.  Come,  then,  with  me, 
Alice  ;  and " 

Julian  was  interrupted  by  some  one,  who,  laying  an  un- 
ceremonious hold  of  his  cloak,  pulled  it  with  so  much  force 
as  compelled  him  to  stop  and  lay  his  hand  on  his  sword.  He 
turned  at  the  same  time,  and,  when  he  turned,  beheld 
Fenella.  The  cheek  of  the  mute  glowed  like  fire,  her  eyes 
sparkled,  and  her  lips  were  forcibly  drawn  together,  as  if  she 
had  difficulty  to  repress  those  wild  screams  which  usually 
attended  her  agonies  of  passion,  and  which,  uttered  in  the 
open  street,  must  instantly  have  collected  a  crowd.  As  it 
was,  her  appearance  was  so  singular,  and  her  emotion  so 
evident,  that  men  gazed  as  they  came  on,  and  looked  back 
after  they  had  passed,  at  the  singular  vivacity  of  her  ges- 
tures ;  while,  holding  Peveril's  cloak  with  one  hand,  she 
made,  with  the  other,  the  most  eager  and  imperious  signs 
that  he  should  leave  Alice  Bridgenorth  and  follow  her.  She 
touched  the  plume  in  her  bonnet,  to  remind  him  of  the  earl ; 
'pointed  to  her  heart,  to  intimate  the  countess  ;  raised  her 
closed  hand,  as  if  to  command  him  in  their  name  ;  and  next 
moment  folded  both,  as  if  to  supplicate  him  in  her  own  ; 
while,  pointing  to  Alice  with  an  expression  at  once  of  angry 
and  scornful  derision,  she  waved  her  hand  repeatedly  and 
disdainfully,  to  intimate  that  Peveril  ought  to  cast  her  off, 
as  something  undeserving  his  protection. 

Frightened,  she  knew  not  why,  at  these  wild  gestures, 
Alice  clung  closer  to  Julian's  arm  than  she  had  at  first  dared 


376  WA  VEBLET  NO  VEL8 

to  do  ;  and  this  mark  of  confidence  in  his  protection  seemed 
to  increase  tho  passion  of  Fenella. 

Julian  was  dreadfully  embarrassed  ;  his  situation  was  suffi- 
ciently precarious,  even  before  Fenella^s  ungovernable  pas- 
sions threatened  to  ruin  the  only  plan  which  he  had  been 
able  to  suggest.  What  she  wanted  with  him — how  far  the 
fate  of  the  earl  and  countess  might  depend  on  his  following 
her,  he  could  not  even  conjecture  ;  but  be  the  call  how  per- 
emptory soever,  he  resolved  not  to  comply  with  it  until  he 
had  seen  Alice  placed  in  safety.  In  the  meantime,  he  deter- 
mined not  to  lose  sight  of  Fenella ;  and  disregarding  her 
repeated,  disdainful,  and  impetuous  rejection  of  the  hand 
which  he  offered  her,  he  at  length  seemed  so  far  to  have 
soothed  her,  that  she  seized  upon  his  right  arm,  and,  as  if 
despairing  of  his  following  her  path,  appeared  reconciled 
to  attend  him  on  that  which  he  himself  should  choose. 

Thus  with  a  youthful  female  clinging  to  each  arm,  and  both 
remarkably  calculated  to  attract  the  public  eye,  though  from 
very  different  reasons,  Julian  resolved  to  make  the  shortest 
road  to  the  water-side  and  there  to  take  boat  for  Blackf riars, 
as  the  nearest  point  of  landing  to  Newgate,  where  he  con- 
cluded that  Lance  had  already  announced  his  arrival  in  Lon- 
don to  Sir  Geoffrey,  then  inhabiting  that  dismal  region,  and 
to  his  lady,  who,  so  far  as  the  jailor's  rigor  permitted,  shared 
and  softened  his  imprisonment. 

Julian's  embarrassment  in  passing  Charing  Cross  and  North- 
umberland House  was  so  great  as  to  excite  the  attention  of  the 
passengers  ;  for  he  had  to  compose  his  steps  so  as  to  moder- 
ate the  unequal  and  rapid  pace  of  Fenella  to  the  timid  and 
faint  progress  of  his  left-hand  companion  ;  and  while  it  would 
have  been  needless  to  address  himself  to  the  former,  who 
could  not  comprehend  him,  he  dared  not  speak  himself  to 
Alice,  for  fear  of  awakening  into  frenzy  the  jealousy,  or  at 
least  the  impatience,  of  Fenella. 

Many  passengers  looked  at  them  with  wonder,  and  some 
with  smiles  ;  but  Julian  remarked  that  there  were  two  wlio 
never  lost  sight  of  them,  and  to  whom  his  situation,  and  the 
demeanor  of  his  companions,  seemed  to  afford  matter  of  un- 
disguised merriment.  These  were  young  men,  such  as  may 
be  seen  in  the  same  precincts  in  the  present  day,  allowing  for 
the  difference  in  the  fashion  of  their  apparel.  They  abounded 
in  periwig,  and  fluttered  with  many  hundred  yards  of  rib- 
bon, disposed  in  bow-knots  upon  their  sleeves,  their  breeches, 
and  their  waistcoats,  in  the  very  extremity  of  the  existing 
mode.     A  quantity  of  lace  and  embroidery  made  their  habits 


P£  VERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  377 

rather  fine  than  tasteful.  In  a  word,  they  were  dressed  in 
that  caricature  of  the  fashion  which  sometimes  denotes  a 
hare-brained  man  of  quality  who  has  a  mind  to  be  distin- 
guished as  a  fop  of  the  first  order,  but  is  much  more  fre- 
quently the  disguise  of  those  who  desire  to  be  esteemed  men 
of  rank  on  account  of  their  dress,  having  no  other  pretension 
to  the  distinction. 

These  two  gallants  passed  Peveril  more  than  once,  linked 
arm-in-arm,  then  sauntered,  so  as  to  oblige  him  to  pass  them 
in  turn,  laughing  and  whispering  during  these  maneuvers, 
staring  broadly  at  Peveril  and  his  female  companions,  and 
affording  them,  as  they  came  into  contact,  none  of  those  fa- 
cilities of  giving  place  which  are  required  on  such  occasion 
by  the  ordinary  rules  of  the  pave. 

Peveril  did  not  immediately  observe  their  impertinence ; 
but  when  it  was  too  gross  to  escape  his  notice,  his  gall  began 
to  arise  ;  and,  in  addition  to  all  the  other  embarrassments  of 
his  situation,  he  had  to  combat  the  longing  desire  which  he 
felt  to  cudgel  handsomely  the  two  coxcombs  who  seemed  thus 
determined  on  insulting  him.  Patience  and  sufferance  were 
indeed  strongly  im23osed  on  him  by  circumstances  ;  but  at 
length  it  became  scarcely  possible  to  observe  their  dictates 
any  longer. 

When,  for  the  third  time  Julian  found  himself  obliged, 
with  his  companion,  to  pass  this  troublesome  brace  of  fops, 
they  kept  walking  close  behind  him,  speaking  so  loud  as  to 
be  heard,  and  in  a  tone  of  perfect  indifference  whether  he 
listened  to  them  or  not. 

*^This  is  bumpkin^s  best  luck,"  said  the  taller  of  the  two, 
who  was  indeed  a  man  of  remarkable  size,  alluding  to  the 
plainness  of  PeveriFs  dress,  which  was  scarce  fit  for  the  streets 
of  London.  *'  Two  such  fine  wenches,  and  under  guard  of  a 
gray  frock  and  on  oaken  riding-rod  ! '' 

"  Nay,  Puritan^s  luck  rather,  and  more  than  enough  of  it,^' 
said  his  companion.  ^^You  may  read  Puritan  in  his  pace 
and  in  his  patience.'' 

'^  Right  as  a  pint  bumper,  Tom,''  said  his  friend.  ^'  Issa- 
char  is  an  ass  that  stoopeth  between  two  burdens." 

"  I  have  a  mind  to  ease  long-eared  Laurence  of  one  of  his 
encumbrances,"  said  the  shorter  fellow.  '^  That  black-eyed 
sparkler  looks  as  if  she  had  a  mind  to  run  away  from  him.'* 

'^  Ay,"  answered  the  taller,  ''  and  the  blue-eyed  trembler 
looks  as  if  she  would  fall  behind  into  my  loving  arms." 

At  these  words,  Alice,  holding  still  closer  by  Peveril's 
arm  than  formerly,  mended  her  pace  almost  to  ruQiiiug,  in 


378  WA VERLEY  NOVELS 

order  to  escape  from  men  whose  language  was  so  alarming  ; 
and  Fenella  walked  hastily  forward  in  the  same  manner, 
having  perhaps  caught,  from  the  men's  gestures  and  de- 
meanor, that  apprehension  which  Alice  had  taken  from 
their  language. 

Fearful  of  the  consequences  of  a  fray  in  the  streets,  which 
must  necessarily  separate  him  from  these  unprotected 
females,  Peveril  endeavored  to  compound  betwixt  the 
prudence  necessary  for  their  protection  and  his  own  rising 
resentment  ;  and  as  this  troublesome  pair  of  attendants 
endeavored  again  to  pass  them  close  to  Hungerford  Stairs, 
he  said  to  them,  with  constrained  calmness,  ''  Gentlemen,  I 
owe  you  something  for  the  attention  you  have  bestowed  on 
the  affairs  of  a  stranger.  If  you  have  any  pretension  to  the 
name  I  have  given  you,  you  will  tell  me  where  you  are  to  be 
found.'' 

''  And  with  what  purpose,"  said  the  taller  of  the  two, 
sneeringly,  ''  does  your  most  rustic  gravity,  or  your  most 
grave  rusticity,  require  of  us  such  information  ?  " 

So  saying,  they  both  faced  about,  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
make  it  impossible  for  Julian  to  advance  any  farther. 

*' Make  for  the  stairs,  Alice,"  he  said;  "I  will  be  with 
you  in  an  instant."  Then  freeing  himself  with  difficulty 
from  the  grasp  of  his  companions,  he  cast  his  cloak  hastily 
round  his  left  arm,  and  said  sternly  to  his  opponents,  ''  Will 
you  give  me  your  names,  sir  ;  or  will  you  be  pleased  to  make 
way?" 

'^  Not. till  we  know  for  whom  we  are  to  give  place,"  said 
one  of  them. 

"  For  one  who  will  else  teach  you  what  you  want — good 
manners,"  said  Peveril,  and  advanced,  as  if  to  push  between 
them. 

They  separated,  but  one  of  them  stretched  forth  his  foot 
before  Peveril,  as  if  he  meant  to  trip  him.  The  blood  of 
his  ancestors  was  already  boiling  within  him  ;  he  struck  the 
man  on  the  face  with  the  oaken  rod  which  he  had  just 
sneered  at,  and,  throwing  it  from  him,  instantly  unsheathed 
his  sword.  Both  the  others  drew,  and  pushed  at  once  ;  but 
he  caught  the  point  of  the  one  rapier  in  his  cloak,  and  par- 
ried the  other  thrust  with  his  own  weapon.  He  might  have 
been  less  lucky  in  the  second  close,  but  a  cry  arose  among 
the  watermen  of  "  Shame — shame  !  two  upon  one  !" 

'*  They  are  men  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's,"  said  one 
fellow  ;  "  there's  no  safe  meddling  with  them." 

"They  may  be  the  devil's  men,  if  they  will,"  aaid  an 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  STd 

ancient  triton,  flourishing  his  stretcher  ;  '*  but  I  say  fair  play 
and  Old  England  forever  ;  and,  I  say,  knock  the  gold- 
laced  puppies  down,  unless  they  will  fight  turn-about  with 
gray  jerkin,  like  honest  fellows — one  down,  t'other  come  on." 

The  lower  orders  of  London  have  in  all  times  been  remark- 
able for  the  delight  which  they  have  taken  in  club-law,  or 
fist-law ;  and  for  the  equity  and  impartiality  with  which 
they  see  it  administered.  The  noble  science  of  defense  was 
then  so  generally  known,  that  a  bout  at  single  rapier  excited 
at  that  time  as  much  interest  and  as  little  wonder  as  a 
boxing-match  in  our  own  days.  The  bystanders,  experienced 
in  such  affrays,  presently  formed  a  ring,  within  which 
Peveril  and  the  taller  and  more  forward  of  his  antagonists 
were  soon  engaged  in  close  combat  with  their  swords,  whilst 
the  other,  overawed  by  the  spectators,  was  prevented  from 
interfering. 

''  Well  done  the  tall  fellow  !  "  "  Well  thrust,  long-legs  ! " 
'^  Huzza  for  two  ells  and  a  quarter  ! "  were  the  sounds  with 
which  the  fray  was  at  first  cheered  ;  for  PeveriFs  opponent 
not  only  showed  great  activity  and  skill  in  fence,  but  had 
also  a  decided  advantage,  from  the  anxiety  with  which  Julian 
looked  out  for  Alice  Bridgenorth,  the  care  for  whose  safety 
diverted  him  in  the  beginning  of  the  onset  from  that  which 
he  ought  to  have  exclusively  bestowed  on  the  defense  of  his 
own  life.  A  slight  flesh-wound  in  the  side  at  once  punished, 
and  warned  him  of,  his  inadvertence  ;  when,  turning  his 
whole  thoughts  on  the  business  in  which  he  was  engaged, 
and  animated  with  anger  against  his  impertinent  intruder, 
the  rencontre  speedily  began  to  assume  another  face,  amidst 
cries  of  **  Well  done,  gray  jerkin  !  "  "  Try  the  metal  of  his 
gold  doublet !  "  "  Finely  thrust ! "  "  Curiously  parried  !  '* 
**  There  went  another  eyeleb-hole  to  his  broidered  jerkin  ! " 
'^  Pairly  pinked,  by  G — d  !  "  In  fact,  the  last  exclamation 
was  uttered  amid  a  general  roar  of  applause,  accompanying 
a  successful  and  conclusive  lounge,  by  which  Peveril  ran  his 
gigantic  antagonist  through  the  body.  He  looked  at  his 
prostrate  foe  for  a  moment ;  then,  recovering  himself,  called 
loudly  to  know  what  had  become  of  the  lady. 

''Never  mind  the  lady,  if  you  be  wise,"*'  said  oue  of  the 
watermen  ;  "  the  constable  will  be  here  in  an  instant.  Til 
give  your  honor  a  cast  across  the  water  in  a  moment.  It 
may  be  as  much  as  your  neck's  worth.  Shall  only  charge  a 
Jacobus.'^ 

'*  You  be  d — d  ! "  said  one  of  his  rivals  in  profession,  "  as 
your  father  was  before  you  ;  for  a  Jacobus,  I'll  set  the  gentle- 


880.  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

man  into  Alsatia,  where  neither  bailiff  nor  constable  dare 
trespass/' 

*'  The  lady,  you  scoundrels — the  lady  !  '*  exclaluied  Peveril. 
''Where  is  the  lady?'' 

*'  ril  carry  your  honor  where  you  shall  have  enough  ot 
ladies,  if  that  be  your  want,"  said  the  old  triton  ;  and  as  he 
spoke,  the  clamor  amongst  the  watermen  was  renewed,  each 
hoping  to  cut  his  own  profit  out  of  the  emergency  of  Julian's 
situation. 

''  A  sculler  will  be  least  suspected,  your  honor,"  said  one 
fellow. 

"  A  pair  of  oars  will  carry  you  through  the  water  like  a 
wild  duck,"  said  another. 

''  But  you  have  got  never  a  tilt,  brother,"  said  a  third. 
''Now,  I  can  put  the  gentleman  as  snug  as  if  he  were  under 
hatches." 

In  the  midst  of  the  oaths  and  clamor  attending  this  aqua- 
tic controversy  for  his  custom,  Peveril  at  length  made  them 
understand  that  he  would  bestow  a  Jacobus,  not  on  him 
whose  boat  was  first  oars,  but  on  whomsoever  should  inform 
him  of  the  fate  of  the  lady. 

"Of  which  lady?"  said  a  sharp  fellow;  "for,  to  my 
thought,  there  was  a  pair  of  them." 

"  Of  both — of  both,"  answered  Peveril ;  "  but  first,  of  the 
fair-haired  lady." 

"  Ay — ay,  that  was  she  that  shrieked  so  when  gold-jacket's 
companion  handed  her  into  No.  20." 

"  Who — what — who  dared  to  hand  her  ?  "  exclaimed 
Peveril. 

"  Nay,  master,  you  have  heard  enough  of  my  tale  without 
a  fee,"  said  the  waterman. 

"  Sordid  rascal  ! "  said  Peveril,  giving  him  a  gold  piece, 
"  speak  out,  or  I'll  run  my  sword  through  you  !  " 

"For  the  matter  of  that,  master,"  answered  the  fellow, 
"not  while  I  can  handle  this  trunnion  ;  but  a  bargain's  a 
bargain,  and  so  I'll  tell  you,  for  your  gold  piece,  that  the  com- 
rade of  the  fellow  forced  one  of  your  wenches,  her  with  the 
fair  hair,  will  she  nill  she,  into  Tickling  Tom's  wherry  ;  and 
they  are  far  enough  up  Thames  by  this  time,  with  wind  and 
tide." 

"  Sacred  Heaven,  and  I  stand  here  ! "  exclaimed  Julian. 
i     ''Why,  that  is  because  your  honor  will  not  take  a  boat." 

"  You  are  right,  my  friend  ;  a  boat — a  boat  instantly." 

"  Follow  me,  then,  squire.  Hear,  Tom,  bear  a  hand  \  the 
gentleman  is  our  fare."'  1»  •      '"      ;  •{  >;•  'ijit  in 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  381 

A  volley  of  water  language  was  exchanged  betwixt  the 
successful  candidate  for  PeveriFs  custom  and  his  disappointed 
brethren,  which  concluded  by  the  ancient  triton^s  bellowing 
out,  in  a  tone  above  them  all,  '^  that  the  gentleman  was  in  a 
fair  way  to  make  a  voyage  to  the  isle  of  gulls,  for  that  sly 
Jack  was  only  bantering  him  :  No.  20  had  rowed  for  York 
Buildings/" 

"  To  the  isle  of  gallows,"'  cried  another  ;  '^  for  here  comes 
one  who  will  mar  his  trip  up  Thames,  and  carry  him  down 
to  Execution  Dock/" 

In  fact,  as  he  spoke  the  word,  a  constable,  with  three  or 
four  of  his  assistants,  armed  with  the  old-fashioned  brown- 
bills,  which  were  still  used  for  arming  those  guardians  of 
the  peace,  cut  off  our  hero's  farther  progress  to  the  water's 
edge  by  arresting  him  in  the  King's  name.  To  attempt  re- 
sistance would  have  been  madness,  as  he  was  surrounded  on 
all  sides  ;  so  Peveril  was  disarmed  and  carried  before  the 
nearest  justice  of  the  peace,  for  examination  and  com- 
mittal. 

The  legal  sage  before  whom  Julian  was  taken  was  a  man 
very  honest  in  his  intentions,  very  bounded  in  his  talents, 
and  rather  timid  in  his  disposition.  Before  the  general  alarm 
given  to  England,  and  to  the  city  of  London  in  particular, 
by  the  notable  discovery  of  the  Popish  Plot,  Master  Maul- 
statute  had  taken  serene  and  undisturbed  pride  and  pleasure 
in  the  discharge  of  his  duties  as  a,  justice  of  the  peace,  with 
the  exercise  of  all  its  honorary  privileges  and  awful  author- 
ity. But  the  murder  of  Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey  had 
made  a  strong,  nay,  an  indelible,  impression  on  his  mind ; 
and  he  walked  the  courts  of  Themis  with  fear  and  trembling 
after  that  memorable  and  melancholy  event. 

Having  a  high  idea  of  his  official  importance,  and  rather 
an  exalted  notion  of  his  personal  consequence,  his  honor 
saw  nothing  from  that  time  but  cords  and  daggers  before  hia 
eyes,  and  never  stepped  out  of  his  own  house,  which  he  for- 
tified,  and  in  some  measure  garrisoned,  with  half  a  dozen 
tall  watchmen  and  constables,  without  seeing  himself  watched 
by  a  Papist  in  disguise,  with  a  drawn  sword  under  his  cloak. 
It  was  even  whispered  that,  in  the  agonies  of  his  fears,  the 
worshipful  Master  Maulstatute  mistook  the  kitchen-wench 
with- a  tinder-box  for  a  Jesuit  with  a  pistol ;  but  if  any  one 
dared  to  laugh  at  such  an  error,  he  would  have  done  well  to 
conceal  his  mirth,  lest  he  fell  under  the  heavy  inculpation  of 
being  a  banterer  and  stifler  of  the  Plot — a  crime  almost  as 
deep  as  that  of  being  himself  a  plotter.     In  fact,  the  fears  of 


382.  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  honest  justice,  however  ridiculously  exorbitant,  were 
kept  so  much  in  countenance  by  the  outcry  of  the  day  and 
the  general  nervous  fever  which  afflicted  every  good  Protes- 
tant, that  Master  Maulstatute  was  accounted  the  bolder  man 
and  the  better  magistrate,  while,  under  the  terror  of  the  air- 
drawn  dagger  which  fancy  placed  continually  before  his  eyes, 
he  continued  to  dole  forth  justice  in  the  recesses  of  his 
private  chamber,  nay,  occasionally  to  attend  quarter-sessions, 
when  the  hall  was  guarded  by  a  sufficient  body  of  the  militia. 
Such  was  the  wight  at  whose  door,  well  chained  and  doubly 
bolted,  the  constable  who  had  Julian  in  custody  now  gave 
his  important  and  well-known  knock. 

Notwithstanding  this  official  signal,  the  party  was  not  ad- 
mitted until  the  clerk,  who  acted  the  part  of  high  warder, 
had  reconnoitered  them  through  a  grated  wicket ;  for  who 
could  say  whether  the  Papists  might  not  have  made  them- 
selves master  of  Master  Constable's  sign,  and  have  prepared 
a  pseudo-watch  to  burst  in  and  murder  the  justice,  under 
pretense  of  bringing  a  criminal  before  him  ?  Less  hopeful 
projects  had  figured  in  the  Narrative  of  the  Popish  Plot. 

All  being  found  right,  the  key  was  turned,  the  bolts  were 
drawn,  and  the  chain  unhooked,  so  as  to  permit  entrance  to 
the  constable,  the  prisoner,  and  the  assistants  ;  and  the  door 
was  then  as  suddenly  shut  against  the  witnesses,  who,  as  less 
trustworthy  persons,  were  requested,  through  the  wicket,  to 
remain  in  the  yard,  until  they  should  be  called  in  their  re- 
spective turns. 

Had  Julian  been  inclined  for  mirth,  as  was  far  from  being 
the  case,  he  must  have  smiled  at  the  incongruity  of  the 
clerk's  apparel,  who  had  belted  over  his  black  buckram  suit 
a  buff  baldric,  sustaining  a  broadsword  and  a  pair  of  huge 
horse-pistols  ;  and,  instead  of  the  low  flat  hat  which,  coming 
in  place  of  the  city  cap,  completed  the  dress  of  a  scrivener, 
had  placed  on  his  greasy  locks  a  rusted  steel  cap,  which  had 
seen  Marston  Moor  ;  across  which  projected  his  well-used 
quill,  in  the  guise  of  a  plume — the  shape  of  the  morion  not 
admitting  of  its  being  stuck,  as  usual,  behind  his  ear. 

This  whimsical  figure  conducted  the  constable,  his  assist- 
ants", and  the  prisoner  into  the  low  hall,  where  his  principal 
dealt  forth  justice,  who  presented  an  appearance  still  more 
singular  than  that  of  his  dependant. 

Sundry  good  Protestants,  who  thought  so  highly  of  them- 
selves as  to  suppose  they  were  worthy  to  be  distinguished  as 
objects  of  Catholic  cruelty,  had  taken  to  defensive  arms  on 
the  occasion.     But  it  was  quickly  found  that  a  breast-plat# 


I 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  388 

and  back-plate  of  proof,  fastened  together  with  iron  clasps, 
was  no  convenient  inclosure  for  a  man  who  meant  to  eat 
venison  and  custard  ;  and  that  a  buff-coat,  or  shirt  of  mail, 
was  scarcely  more  accommodating  to  the  exertions  necessary 
on  such  active  occasions.  Besides,  there  were  other  object- 
ions, as  the  alarming  and  menacing  aspects  which  such 
warlike  habiliments  gave  to  the  exchange  and  other  places 
where  merchants  most  do  congregate  ;  and  excoriations  were 
bitterly  complained  of  by  many,  who,  not  belonging  to  the 
artillery  company  or  trained  bands,  had  no  experience  in 
bearing  defensive  armor. 

To  obviate  these  objections,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to 
secure  the  persons  of  all  true  Protestant  citizens  against  open 
force  or  privy  assassinations  on  the  part  of  the  Papists,  some 
ingenious  artist,  belonging,  we  may  presume,  to  the  worship- 
ful Mercers'  Company,  had  contrived  a  species  of  armor, 
of  which  neither  the  horse-armor  in  the  Tower,  nor  Gwyn- 
nap's  Gothic  Hall,  no,  nor  Dr.  Meyrick's  invaluable  collection 
of  ancient  arms,  has  preserved  any  specimen.  It  was  called 
silk  armor,*  being  composed  of  a  doublet  and  breeches  of 
quilted  silk,  so  closely  stitched,  and  of  such  thickness,  as  to 
be  proof  against  either  bullet  or  steel ;  while  a  thick  bonnet, 
of  the  same  materials,  with  ear-flaps  attached  to  it,  and,  on 
the  whole,  much  resembling  a  nightcap,  completed  the 
equipment,  and  ascertained  the  security  of  the  wearer  from  the 
head  to  the  kne^;. 

Master  Maul^tatute,  among  other  worthy  citizens,  had 
adopted  this  singular  panoply,  which  had  the  advantage  of 
being  soft,  and  \(  arm,  and  flexible,  as  well  as  safe.  And  he 
now  sat  in  his  juiicial  elbow-chair — a  short,  rotund  figure, 
hung  round,  as  i'"  were,  with  cushions,  for  such  was  the 
appearance  of  the  quilted  garments ;  and  with  a  nose  pro- 
truded from  under  the  silken  casque  the  size  of  which,  to- 
gether with  the  unwieldiness  of  the  whole  figure,  gave  his 
worship  no  indifferent  resemblance  to  the  sign  of  the  Hog  in 
Armor,  which  was  considerably  improved  by  the  defensive 
garment  being  of  a  dusky  orange-color,  not  altogeUier  un- 
like the  hue  of  those  half-wild  swine  which  are  to  be  found 
in  the  forests  of  Hampshire. 

Secure  in  these  invulnerable  envelopments,  his  worship  had 
rested  content,  although  severed  from  his  own  death-doing 
weapons  of  rapier,  poniard,  and  pistols,  which  were  placed, 
nevertheless,  at  no  great  distance  from  his  chair.  One  of- 
fensive implement,  indeed,  he  thought  it  prudent  to  keep 
*  See  Note  32. 


884  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

on  the  table  beside  his  huge  Cohe  wpon  Lyttleton.  This 
was  a  sort  of  pocket-flail,  consisting  of  a  piece  of  strong  ash, 
about  eighteen  inches  long,  to  which  was  attached  a  swinging 
club  of  lignum  vitm,  nearly  twice  as  long  as  the  handle,  but 
jointed  so  as  to  be  easily  folded  up.  This  instrument,  which 
bore  at  that  time  the  singular  name  of  the  Protestant  flail, 
might  be  concealed  under  the  coat  until  circumstances  de- 
manded its  public  appearance.  A  better  precaution  against 
surprise  than  his  arms,  whether  offensive  or  defensive,  was 
a  strong  iron  grating,  which,  crossing  the  room  in  front  of 
the  justice's  table  and  communicating  by  a  grated  door, 
which  was  usually  kept  locked,  efl'ectually  separated  the 
accused  party  from  his  judge. 

Justice  Maulstatute,  such  as  we  have  described  him,  chose 
to  hear  the  accusation  of  the  witnesses  before  calling  on 
Peveril  for  his  defense.  The  detail  of  the  affray  was  briefly 
given  by  the  bystanders,  and  seemed  deeply  to  touch  the 
spirit  of  the  examinator.  He  shook  his  silken  casque  em- 
phatically when  he  understood  that,  after  some  language 
betwixt  the  parties,  which  the  witnesses  did  not  quite  under- 
stand, the  young  man  in  custody  struck  the  first  blow,  and 
drew  his  sword  before  the  wounded  party  had  unsheathed 
his  weapon.  Again  he  shook  his  crested  head  yet  more 
solemnly,  when  the  result  of  the  conflict  was  known  ;  and  yet 
again,  when  one  of  the  witnesses  declared  that,  to  the  best 
of  his  knowledge,  the  sufferer  in  the  fray  was  a  gentle- 
man belonging  to  the  household  of  his  Grace  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham. 

^'  K  worthy  peer,''  quoth  the  armed  magistrate — ''  a  true 
Protestant,  -and  a  friend  to  his  country.  Mercy  on  us,  to 
what  a  height  of  audacity  hath  this  age  arisen  I  We  see 
well,  and  could,  were  we  as  blind  as  a  mole,  out  of  what 
quiver  this  shaft  hath  been  drawn  ! " 

He  then  put  on  his  spectacles,  and  having  desired  Julian 
to  be  brought  forward,  he  glared  upon  him  awfully  with 
those  glazen  eyes  from  under  the  shade  of  his  quilted  turban. 

"  So  young,''  he  said,  ''  and  so  hardened — lack-a-day  !  and 
a  Papist,  I'll  warrant," 

Peveril  had  time  enough  to  recollect  the  necessity  of  his 
being  at  large,  if  he  could  possibly  obtain  his  freedom,  and 
interposed  here  a  civil  contradiction  of  his  worship's  gracious 
supposition.  ^'^He  was  no  Catholic,"  he  said,  *^but  an 
unworthy  member  of  the  Church  of  England." 

"  Perhaps  but  a  lukewarm  Protestant,  notwithstanding," 
eaid  the  sage  justice ;  *^  there  are  those  amongst  us  who  ride 


PEVERIL  OP  THE  PEAK  885 

tantivy  to  Eome,  and  have  already  made  out  half  the  journey 
—ahem  I" 

Peveril  disowned  his  being  any  such. 

"  And  who  art  thou,  then  r* "  said  the  justice  ;  "for,  friend, 
to  tell  you  plainly,  I  like  not  your  visage — ahem  ! " 

These  short  and  emphatic  coughs  were  accompanied  each 
by  a  succinct  nod,  intimating  the  perfect  conviction  of  the 
speaker  that  he  had  made  the  best,  the  wisest,  and  the  most 
acute  observation  of  which  the  premises  admitted. 

Julian,  irritated  by  the  whole  circumstances  of  his  deten- 
tion, answered  the  justice^s  interrogation  in  rather  a  lofty 
tone—"  My  name  is  Julian  Peveril ! " 

*'  Now,  Heaven  be  around  us  ! "  said  the  terrified  justice  ; 
"the  son  of  that  black-hearted  Papist  and  traitor.  Sir 
Geoffrey  Peveril,  now  in  hand,  and  on  the  verge  of  trial  1 " 
'  "  How,  sir  !  ^'  exclaimed  Julian,  forgetting  his  situation, 
and,  stepping  forward  to  the  grating  with  a  violence  which 
made  the  bars  clatter,  he  so  startled  the  appalled  justice 
that,  snatching  his  Protestant  flail.  Master  Maulstatute  aimed 
a  blow  at  his  prisoner,  to  repel  what  he  apprehended  was  a 
premediated  attack.  But  whether  it  was  owing  to  the 
justice's  hurry  of  mind  or  inexperience  in  managing  the 
weapon,  he  not  only  missed  his  aim,  but  brought  the  swing- 
ing part  of  the  machine  round  his  own  skull,  with  such  a 
severe  counter-buff  as  completely  to  try  the  efficacy  of  his 
cushioned  helmet,  and,  in  spite  of  its  defense,  to  convey  a 
stunning  sensation,  which  he  rather  hastily  imputed  to  the 
consequence  of  a  blow  received  from  Peveril. 

His  assistants  did  not  indeed  directly  confirm  the  opinion 
which  the  justice  had  so  unwarrantably  adopted  ;  but  all 
with  one  voice  agreed  that,  but  for  their  own  active  and  in- 
stantaneous interference,  there  was  no  knowing  what  mischief 
might  have  been  done  by  a  person  so  dangerous  as  the  pris- 
oner. The  general  opinion  that  he  meant  to  proceed  in  the 
matter  of  his  own  rescue  par  vote  du  fait  was  indeed  so 
deeply  impressed  on  all  present,  that  Julian  saw  it  would  be 
in  vain  to  offer  any  defense,  especially  being  but  too  con- 
scious that  the  alarming,  and  probably  the  fatal,  conse- 
quences of  his  rencontre  with  the  bully  rendered  his  com- 
mitment inevitable.  Ho  contented  himself  with  asking  into 
what  prison  he  was  to  be  thrown  ;  and  when  the  formidable 
v/ord  Newgate  was  returned  as  full  answer,  he  had  at  least 
the  satisfaction  to  reflect  that,  stern  and  dangerous  as  was 
the  shelter  of  that  roof,  he  should  at  least  enjoy  it  in  com- 
pany with  his  father ;  and  that,  by  some  means  or  other, 


886  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

they  might  perhaps  obtain  the  satisfaction  of  a  melancholy 
meeting,  under  the  circumstances  of  mutual  calamity  which 
seemed  impending  over  their  house. 

Assuming  the  virtue  of  more  patience  than  he  actually 
possessed,  Julian  gave  the  magistrate,  to  whom  all  the  mild- 
ness of  his  demeanor  could  not,  however,  reconcile  him,  the 
direction  to  the  house  where  he  lodged,  together  with  a 
request  that  his  servant.  Lance  Outram,  might  be  permitted 
to  send  him  his  money  and  wearing-apparel ;  adding,  that 
all  which  might  be  in  his  possession,  either  of  arms  or  writ- 
ings— the  former  amounting  to  a  pair  of  traveling-pistols, 
and  the  last  to  a  few  memoranda  of  little  consequence — he 
willingly  consented  to  place  at  the  disposal  of  the  magistrate. 
It  was  in  that  moment  that  he  entertained,  with  sincere 
satisfaction,  the  comforting  reflection  that  the  important 
papers  of  Lady  Derby  were  already  in  the  possession  of  the 
sovereign. 

The  justice  promised  attention  to  his  requests  ;  but  re- 
minded him,  with  great  dignity,  that  his  present  complacent 
and  submissive  behavior  ought,  for  his  own  sake,  to  have 
been  adopted  from  the  beginning,  instead  of  disturbing  the 
presence  of  magistracy  with  such  atrocious  marks  of  the 
malignant,  rebellious,  and  murderous  spirit  of  Popery  as  he 
had  at  first  exhibited.  *'  Yet,''  he  said,  ''  as  he  was  a  goodly 
young  man,  and  of  honorable  quality,  he  would  not  suffer 
him  to  be  dragged  through  the  streets  as  a  felon,  but  had 
ordered  a  coach  for  his  accommodation.'' 

His  honor.  Master  Maulstatute,  uttered  the  word  '*  coach  " 
with  the  importance  of  one  who,  as  Dr.  Johnson  saith  of 
later  date,  is  conscious  of  the  dignity  of  putting  horses  to 
his  chariot.  The  worshipful  Master  Maulstatute  did  not, 
however,  on  this  occasion,  do  Julian  the  honor  of  yoking  to 
his  huge  family  caroche  the  two  ^*  frampal  jades,"  to  use  the 
term  of  the  period,  which  were  wont  to  drag  that  ark  to  the 
meeting-house  of  pure  and  precious  Master  Howlaglass  on  a 
Thursday's  evening  for  lecture,  and  on  a  Sunday  for  a  four- 
hours'  sermon.  He  had  recourse  to  a  leathern  convenience, 
then  more  rare,  but  just  introduced,  with  every  prospect  of 
the  great  facility  which  has  since  been  afforded  by  hackney 
coaches  to  all  manner  of  communication,  honest  and  dis- 
honest, legal  and  illegal.  Our  friend  Julian,  hitherto  much 
more  accustomed  to  the  saddle  than  to  any  other  conveyance, 
soon  found  himself  in  a  hackney  carriage  with  the  constable 
and  two  assistants  for  his  companions,  armed  up  to  the  teeth 
— the  port  of  destination  being,  as  they  had  already  intimatedf 
the  ancient  fortress  of  Newgate* 


CHAPTEK  XXXIII 

•*  Tis  the  black  ban-dog  of  our  jail.     Pray  look  on  him, 
But  at  a  wary  distance.     Rouse  him  not ; 
He  bays  not  till  he  worries. 

The  Black  Dog  of  Newgate, 

The  coach  stopped  before  those  tremendous  gates  which  re- 
semble those  of  Tartarus,  save  only  that  they  rather  more 
frequently  permit  safe  and  honorable  egress  ;  although  at 
the  price  of  the  same  anxiety  and  labor  with  which  Hercules 
and  one  er  two  of  the  demi-gods  extricated  themselves  from 
the  hell  of  the  ancient  mythology,  and  sometimes,  it  is  said, 
by  the  assistance  of  the  golden  bough. 

Julian  stepped  out  of  the  vehicle,  carefully  supported  on 
either  side  by  his  companions,  and  also  by  one  or  two  turn- 
keys, whom  the  first  summons  of  the  deep  bell  at  the  gate 
had  called  to  their  assistance.  That  attention,  it  may  be 
guessed,  was  not  bestowed  lest  he  should  make  a  false  step, 
so  much  as  for  fear  of  his  attempting  an  escape,  of  v/hich 
he  had  no  intentions.  A  few  prentices  and  straggling  boys 
of  the  neighboring  market,  which  derived  considerable 
advantage  from  increase  of  custom  in  conse(^uence  of  the 
numerous  committals  on  account  of  the  Popish  Plot,  and 
who  therefore  were  zealous  Protestants,  saluted  him  on  his 
descent  with  jubilee  shouts  of  "  Whoop,  Papist ! — whoop, 
Bapist !     D n  to  the  Pope  and  all  his  adherents  ! " 

Under  such  auspices,  Peveril  was  ushered  in  beneath  that 
gloomy  gateway  where  so  many  bid  adieu  on  their  entrance 
at  once  to  honor  and  to  life.  The  dark  and  dismal  arch 
under  which  he  soon  found  himself  opened  upon  a  large 
courtyard,  where  a  number  of  debtors  were  employed  in 
playing  at  hand-ball,  pitch-and-toss,  hustle-cap,  and  other 
games  ;  for  which  relaxations  the  rigor  of  their  creditors 
afforded  them  full  leisure,  while  it  debarred  them  the  means 
of  pursuing  the  honest  labor  by  which  they  might  have  re- 
deemed their  affairs  and  maintained  their  starving  and 
beggared  families. 

But  with  this  careless  and  desperate  group  Julian  was  not 
to  be  numbered,  being  led,  or  rather  forced,  by  his  con- 
ductors into  a  low  arched  door,  which,  carefully  secured  by 

887 


388  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

bolts  and  bars,  opened  for  his  reception  on  one  side  of  the 
archway,  and  closed,  with  all  its  fastenings,  the  moment 
after  his  hasty  entrance.  He  was  then  conducted  along  two 
or  three  gloomy  passages,  which,  where  they  intersected 
each  other,  were  guarded  by  as  many  strong  wickets,  one  of 
iron  grates  and  the  others  of  stout  oak,  clenched  with  plates 
and  studded  with  nails  of  the  same  metal.  He  was  not 
allowed  to  pause  until  he  found  himself  hurried  into  a  little 
round  vaulted  room,  which  several  of  these  passages  opened 
into,  and  which  seemed,  with  respect  to  the  labyrinth  through 
part  of  which  he  had  passed,  to  resemble  the  central  point 
of  a  spider's  web,  in  which  the  main  lines  of  that  reptile's 
curious  maze  are  always  found  to  terminate. 

The  resemblance  did  not  end  here ;  for  in  this  small 
vaulted  apartment,  the  walls  of  which  were  hung  round  with 
musketoons,  pistols,  cutlasses,  and  other  weapons,  as  well  as 
with  many  sets  of  fetters  and  irons  of  different  construction, 
all  disposed  in  great  order  and  ready  for  employment,  a 
person  sat  who  might  not  unaptly  be  compared  to  a  huge 
bloated  and  bottled  spider,  placed  there  to  secure  the  prey, 
which  had  fallen  into  his  toils.  ■( 

This  official  had  originally  been  a  very  strong  and  square- 
built  man  of  large  size,  but  was  now  so  over-grown,  from 
overfeeding,  perhaps,  and  want  of  exercise,  as  to  bear  the 
same  resemblance  to  his  former  self  which  a  stall-fed  ox  still 
retains  to  a  wild  bull.  The  look  of  no  man  is  so  inauspicious 
as  a  fat  man  upon  whose  features  ill-nature  has  marked  an 
habitual  stamp.  He  seems  to  have  reversed  the  old  proverb 
of  "  laugh  and  be  fat,^'  and  to  have  thriven  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  worst  affections  of  the  mind.  Passionate  we 
can  allow  a  jolly  mortal  to  be  ;  but  it  seems  unnatural  to  his 
goodly  case  to  be  sulky  and  brutal.  Isow,  this  man's 
features,  surly  and  tallow-colored,  his  limbs  swelled  and  dis- 
proportioned,  his  huge  paunch  and  unwieldy  carcass,  sug- 
gested the  idea  that,  having  once  found  his  way  into  this 
central  recess,  he  had  there  battened,  like  the  weasel  in  the 
fable,  and  fed  largely  and  foully,  until  he  had  become  in- 
capable of  retreating  through  any  of  the  narrow  paths  that 
terminated  at  his  cell  ;  and  was  thus  compelled  to  remain, 
like  a  toad  under  the  cold  stone,  fattening  amid  the  squalid 
airs  of  the  dungeons  by  wnich  he  was  surrounded,  which 
would  have  proved  pestiferous  to  any  other  than  such  a  con- 
genial inhabitant.  Huge  iron-clasped  books  lay  before  this 
ominous  specimen  of  pinguitude — the  records  of  the  realm 
of  misery,  in  which  office  he  officiated  as  prime  minister  ,* 


PisVEitlL  OP  THE  PEAK  389 

and  had  Peveril  come  thither  as  an  unconcerned  visitor,  hia 
heart  would  have  sunk  within  him  at  considering  the  mass 
of  human  wretchedness  which  must  needs  be  registered  in 
these  fatal  volumes.  But  his  own  distresses  sat  too  heavy 
on  his  mind  to  permit  any  general  reflections  of  this  nature. 

The  constable  and  this  bulky  official  whispered  together, 
after  the  former  had  delivered  to  the  iatrer  the  warrant  of 
Julian's  commitment.  The  word  '  whispered '  is  not  quite 
accurate,  for  their  communication  was  carried  on  less  by 
words  than  by  looks  and  expressive  signs  ;  by  which,  in  all 
such  situations,  men  learn  to  supply  the  use  of  language, 
and  to  add  mystery  to  what  is  in  itself  sufficiently  terrible 
to  the  captive.  The  only  words  which  could  be  heard  were 
those  of  the  wafden,  or,  as  he  was  called  then,  the  captain, 
of  the  jail — ^'  Another  bird  to  the  cage  ?  " 

^'Who  will  whistle  ^Pretty  Pope  of  Eome '  with  any 
starling  in  your  'knight's  ward,' "  answered  the  constable, 
with  a  facetious  air,  checked,  however,  by  the  due  respect  to 
the  superior  presence  in  which  he  stood. 

The  grim  feature  relaxed  into  something  like  a  smile  as  he 
heard  the  officer's  observation  ;  but  instantly  composing  him- 
self into  the  stern  solemnity  which  for  an  instant  had  been 
disturbed,  he  looked  fiercely  at  his  new  guest,  and  pro- 
nounced, with  an  awful  and  emphatic,  yet  rather  an  under- 
voice,  the  single  and  impressive  word  '^  Garnish  !  "  i 

Julian  Peveril  replied  with  assumed  composure  ;  for  he  had 
heard  of  the  customs  of  such  places,  and  was  resolved  to  com- 
ply with  them,  so  as  if  possible  to  obtain  the  favor  of  seeing 
his  father,  which  he  shrewdly  guessed  must  depend  on  his 
gratifying  the  avarice  of  the  keeper.  ''  I  am  quite  ready," 
he  said,  ''to  accede  to  the  customs  of  the  place  in  which  I 
unhappily  find  myself.  You  have  but  to  name  your  demands, 
and  I  will  satisfy  them," 

So  saying,  he  drew  out  his  purse,  thinking  himself  at  the 
same  time  fortunate  that  he  had  retained  about  him  a  con- 
siderable sum  of  gold.  The  captain  remarked  its  width, 
depth,  its  extension  and  depression,  with  an  involuntary 
smile,  which  had  scarce  contorted  his  hanging  under-lip  and 
the  wiry  and  greasy  mustachio  which  thatched  the  upper, 
when  it  was  checked  by  the  recollection  that  there  were 
regulations  which  set  bounds  to  his  rapacity,  and  prevented 
him  from  prouncing  on  his  prey  like  a  kite  and  swooping  it 
all  oS.  at  once. 

This  chilling  reflection  produced  the  following  sullen 
reply  to  Peveril: — ''There  were  sundry  rates.     Gentlemen 


890  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

must  choose  for  themselves.     He  asked  nothing  but  his  fees. 
But  civility/^  he  muttered,  "  must  be  paid  for. 

''  And  shall,  if  I  can  have  it  for  payment,"  said  Peveril ; 
"but  the  price,  my  good  sir — the  price  ?" 

He  spoke  with  some  degree  of  scorn,  which  he  was  the  less 
anxious  to  repress,  that  he  saw,  even  in  this  jail,  his  purse 
gave  him  an  indirect  but  powerful  influence  over  his  jailor. 

The  captain  seemed  to  feel  the  same  ;  for,  as  he  spoke,  he 
plucked  from  his  head,  almost  involuntarily,  a  sort  of  scalded 
fur-cap,  which  served  it  for  covering.  But  his  fingers,  re- 
volting from  so  unusual  an  act  of  complaisance,  began  to  in- 
demnify themselves  by  scratching  his  grizzly  shock-head,  as 
he  muttered,  in  a  tone  resembling  the  softened  growling  of  a 
mastiff  when  he  has  ceased  to  bay  the  intruder  who  shows 
no  fear  of  him — "  There  are  different  rates.  There  is  the 
"  little  ease,"  for  common  fees  of  the  crown — rather  dark, 
and  the  common  sewer  runs  below  it ;  and  some  gentlemen 
object  to  the  company,  who  are  chiefly  padders  and  michers. 
Then  the  '^  master's  side  " — the  garnish  came  to  one  piece, 
and  none  lay  stowed  there  but  who  were  in  for  murder  at  the 
least." 

''  Name  your  highest  price,  sir,  and  take  it,"  was  Julian's 
concise  reply. 

"  Three  pieces  for  the  '  knight's  ward,' "  answered  the 
governor  of  this  terrestrial  Tartarus. 

"  Take  five  and  place  me  with  Sir  Geoffrey,"  was  again 
Julian's  answer,  throwing  down  the  money  upon  the  desk 
before  him. 

"  Sir  Geoffrey  !  Hum  ! — ay.  Sir  Geoffrey,"  said  the  jailor, 
as  if  meditating  what  he  ought  to  do.  '^  Well,  many  a  man 
has  paid  money  to  see  Sir  Geoffrey — scarce  so  much  as  you 
have,  though.  But  then  you  are  like  to  see  the  last  on  him 
— ha,  ha,  ha  ! " 

These  broken  muttered  exclamations,  which  terminated 
with  a  laugh  somewhat  like  the  joyous  growl  of  a  tiger  over 
his  meal,  Julian  could  not  comprehend,  and  only  replied  to 
by  repeating  his  request  to  be  placed  in  the  same  cell  with 
Sir  Geoffrey. 

*'  Ay,  master,"  said  the  jailor,  "  never  fear,  I'll  keep  word 
with  you,  as  you  seem  to  know  something  of  what  belongs 
to  your  station  and  mine.  And  hark  ye,  Jem  Clink  will 
fetch  you  the  darbies." 

'^  Derby  I"  interrupted  Julian.  "Has  the  earl  or  coun- 
tess  " 

"Earl  or  countess!     Ha,  ha,  ha  I "  again   laughed,    of 


FEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  39L 

rather  growled,  the  warden.  ''  What  is  your  head  running 
on  ?  You  are  a  high  fellow,  belike,  but  all  is  one  here. 
The  darbies  are  the  fetlocks— the  fast-keepers,  my  boy — the 
bail  for  good  behavior,  my  darling  ;  and  if  you  are  not  the 
more  conforming,  I  can  add  you  a  steel  nightcap  and  a 
curious  bosom-friend,  to  keep  you  warm  of  a  winter  night. 
But  don't  be  disheartened  :  you  have  behaved  genteel,  and 
you  shall  not  be  put  upon.  And  as  for  this  here  matter,  ten 
to  one  it  will  turn  out  chance-medley,  or  manslaughter,  at 
the  worst  on't ;  and  then  it  is  but  a  singed  thumb  instead 
of  a  twisted  neck — always  if  there  be  no  Papistry  about  it, 
for  then  I  warrant  nothing.  Take  the  gentleman's  worship 
away.  Clink.'' 

A  turnkey,  who  was  one  of  the  party  that  had  ushered 
Peveril  into  the  presence  of  this  Cerberus,  now  conveyed  him 
out  in  silence ;  and,  under  his  guidance,  the  prisoner  was 
carried  through  a  second  labyrinth  of  passages  with  cells 
opening  on  each  side,  to  that  which  was  destined  for  his 
reception. 

On  the  road  through  this  sad  region,  the  turnkey  more 
than  once  ejaculated,  *' Why,  the  gentleman  must  be  stark 
mad  !  Could  have  had  the  best  crown  cell  to  himself  for 
less  than  half  the  garnish,  and  must  pay  double  to  pig  in 
with  Sir  Geoffrey  !  Ha,  ha  !  Is  Sir  Geoffrey  akin  to  you,  if 
one  may  make  free  to  ask  ?  " 

"  I  am  his  son,"  answered  Peveril,  sternly,  in  hopes  to 
impose  some  curb  on  the  fellow's  impertinence  ;  but  the  man 
only  laughed  louder  than  before. 

"  His  son  !  Why  that's  best  of  all.  Why,  you  are  a  strap- 
ping youth — five  feet  ten,  if  you  be  an  inch — and  Sir  Geof- 
frey's son  !    Ha,  ha,  ha  ! " 

"  Truce  with  your  impertinence,"  said  Julian.  *'  My 
situation  gives  you  no  title  to  insult  me  !  " 

"  No  more  I  do,"  said  the  turnkey,  smothering  his  mirth 
at  the  recollection,  perhaps,  that  the  prisoner's  purse  was 
not  exhausted.  '*  I  only  laughed  because  you  said  you  were 
Sir  Geoffrey's  son.  But  no  matter — 'tis  a  wise  child  that 
knows  his  own  father.  And  here  is  Sir  Geoffrey's  cell ;  so 
you  and  he  may  settle  the  fatherhood  between  you." 

So  saying,  he  ushered  his  prisoner  into  a  cell,  or  rather  a 
strong  room,  of  the  better  order,  in  which  there  were  four 
chairs,  a  truckle-bed,  and  one  or  two  other  articles  of  furni- 
ture. 

Julian  looked  eagerly  around  for  his  father ;  but  to  his 
gurprise  the  room  appeared  totally  empty.     He  turned  with 


392  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

anger  on  the  turnkey,  and  charged  him  with  misleading  him  ; 
but  the  fellow  answered,  *' No — no,  master;  I  have  kept 
faith  with  you.  Your  father,  if  you  call  him  so,  is  only 
tappiced  in  some  corner.  A  small  hole  will  hide  him  ;  but 
V\\  rouse  him  out  presently  for  you.  Here,  hoicks  !  Turn 
out.  Sir  Greoffrey  !  Here  is — ha,  ha,  ha  !— your  son— or  your 
wife^s  son — for  I  think  you  can  have  but  little  shar^,i^. 
him — come  to  wait  on  you."  .,  ,i|^,^ 

Peveril  knew  not  how  to  resent  the  man's  insolence  ;  and 
indeed  his  anxiety  and  apprehension  of  some  strange  mistake 
mingled  with,  and  in  some  degree  neutralized,  his  anger. 
He  looked  again  and  again,  around  and  around  the  room  ; 
until  at  length  he  became  aware  of  something  rolled  up  in  a 
dark  corner,  which  rather  resembled  a  small  bundle  of  crimson 
cloth  than  any  living  creature.  At  the  vociferation  of  the 
turnkey,  however,  the  object  seemed  to  acquire  life  and  mo- 
tion— uncoiled  itself  in  some  .degree,  and,  after  an  effort  or 
two,  gained  an  erect  posture  ;  still  covered  from  top  to  toe 
with  the  crimson  drapery  in  which  it  was  at  first  wrapped. 
Julian,  at  the  first  glance,  imagined  from  the  size  that  he 
saw  a  child  of  five  years  old  ;  but  a  shrill  and  peculiar  tone 
of  voice  soon  assured  him  of  his  mistake. 

''  Warder,"  said  this  unearthly  sound,  ^' what  is  the  mean- 
ing of  this  disturbance  ?  Have  you  more  insults  to  heap  on 
the  head  of  one  who  hath  ever  been  the  butt  of  fortune's 
malice  ?  But  I  have  a  soul  that  can  wrestle  with  all  my 
misfortunes,  it  is  as  large  as  any  of  your  bodies." 

*^Nay,  Sir  Geoffrey,  if  this  be  the  way  you  welcome  your 
own  son  , "  said  the  turnkey  ;  "  but  you  quality  folks  know 
your  ovi^n  ways  best." 

'^  My  son  ! "  exclaimed  the  little  figure.     '*'  Audacious " 

'^  Here  is  some  strange  mistake,"  said  Peveril,  in  the  same 
breath.     "I  sought  Sir  Geoffrey " 

*'And  you  have  him  before  you,  young  man,"  said  the 
pigmy  tenant  of  the  cell,  with  an  air  of  dignity  ;  at  the  same 
time  casting  on  the  floor  his  crimson  cloak,  and  standing  be- 
fore them  in  his  full  dignity  of  three  feet  six  inches  of 
height;  '^  I,  who  was  the  favored  servant  of  three  succes- 
sive sovereigns  of  the  crown  of  England,  am  now  the  tenant 
of  this  dungeon  and  the  sport  of  its  brutal  keepers.  I  am  Sir 
Geoffrey  Hudson."* 

Julian,  though  he  had  never  before  seen  this  important 
personage,  had  no  difficulty  in  recognizing,  from  description, 
the  celebrated  dwarf  of  Henrietta  Mariaj  who,  had  survived 
*  See  Note  38.  .,^  ^<*0i  edl^anqir' 


PEVEJRIL  OF  THE  PEAK  393 

the  dangers  of  civil  war  and  private  quarrel,  the  murder  of 
his  royal  master,  Charles  I.,  and  the  exile  of  his  widow,  to 
fall  upon  evil  tongues  and  evil  days  amidst  the  unsparing 
accusations  connected  with  the  Popish  Plot.  He  howed  to 
the  unhappy  old  man,  and  hastened  to  i3xp)ain  to  him  and 
to  the  turnkey  that  it  was  Sir  Geoirrey  p;)7eril  of  Martindale 
Castle  in  Derbyshire  whose  prison  he  had  desired  to  share. 

^^You  should  have  said  that  before  you  parted  with  the 
gold-dust,  my  master,^'  answered  the  turnkey  ;  ''for  t'other 
Sir  Geoffrey — that  is  the  big,  tall,  gray-haired  man — was  sent 
to  the  Tower  last  night ;  and  the  captain  will  think  he  has 
kept  his  word  well  enow  with  you  by  lodging  you  with  this 
here  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson,  who  is  the  better  show  of  the 
two." 

*'l  pray  you  go  to  your  master,'*  said  Peveril,  ''explain 
the  mistake,  and  say  to  him  I  beg  to  be  sent  to  the  Tower."" 

"The  Tower!  Ha,  ha,  ha  !'' exclaimed  the  fellow.  "The 
Tower  is  for  lords  and  knights,  and  not  for  squires  of  low 
degree  ;  for  high  treason,  and  not  for  ruffling  on  the  streets 
with  rapier  and  dagger  ;  and  there  must  go  a  secretary's  war- 
rant to  send  you  there." 

"  At  least,  let  me  not  be  a  burden  on  this  gentleman,"  said 
Julian.  "  There  can  be  no  use  in  quartering  us  together, 
since  we  are  not  even  acquainted.  Go  tell  your  master  of 
the  mistake." 

"  Why,  so  I  should,"  said  Clink,  still  grinning,  "  if  1  were 
not  sure  that  he  knew  it  already.  You  paid  to  be  sent  to  Sir 
Geoffrey,  and  he  sent  you  to  Sir  Geoffrey.  You  are  so  put 
down  in  the  register,  and  he  will  blot  it  for  no  man.  Come 
— come,  be  conformable,  and  you  shall  have  light  and  easy 
irons — that's  all  I  can  do  for  you." 

Resistance  and  expostulation  being  out  of  the  question, 
Peveril  submitted  to  have  a  light  pair  of  fetters  secured  on 
his  ankles,  which  allowed  him,  nevertheless,  the  power  of 
traversing  the  apartment. 

During  this  operation,  he  reflected  that  the  jailer,  who  had 
taken  the  advantage  of  the  equivoque  betwixt  the  two  Sir 
Geoffreys,  must  have  acted  as  his  assistant  had  hinted,  and 
cheated  him  from  malice  prepense,  since  the  warrant  of  com- 
mittal described  him  as  the  son  of  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril.  It 
was  therefore  in  vain,  as  well  as  degrading,  to  make  farther 
application  to  such  a  man  on  the  subject.  Julian  deter- 
mined to  submit  to  his  fate,  as  what  could  not  be  averted  by 
any  effort  of  his  own. 

Even  the  turnkey  was  moved  in  some  degree  by  his  youth, 


394  WAVERLEY  IfOVELS 

good  mein,  and  the  patience-  with  which,  after  the  first  effer- 
vescence of  disappointment,  the  new  prisoner  resigned  him- 
self to  his  situation.  "  You  seem  a  brave  young  gentleman,'* 
he  said,  '^  and  shall  at  least  have  a  good  dinner,  and  as  good 
a  pallet  to  sleep  on  as  is  within  the  walls  of  Newgate.  And, 
Master  Sir  Geoffrey,  you  ought  to  make  much  of  him,  since 
you  do  not  like  tall  fellows  ;  for  I  can  tell  you  that  Master 
Peveril  is  in  for  pinking  long  Jack  Jenkins,  that  was  the 
master  of  defence — as  tall  a  man  as  is  in  London,  always  ex- 
cepting the  King's  porter,  Master  Evans,  that  carried  you 
about  in  his  pocket.  Sir  Geoffrey,  as  all  the  world  has  heard 
tell/' 

"  Begone,  fellow  !  "  answered  the  dwarf.  "  Fellow,  I 
scorn  you  ! '' 

The  turnkey  sneered,  withdrew,  and  locked  the  door  be- 
hind him. 


CHAPTEE  XXXIV 

Degenerate  youth,  and  not  of  Tydeus'  kind, 
Whose  little  body  lodged  a  mighty  mind ! 

Iliad. 

Left  quiet  at  least,  if  not  alone,  for  the  first  time  after  the 
events  of  this  troubled  and  varied  day,  Julian  threw  himself 
on  an  old  oaken  seat,  beside  the  embers  of  a  sea-coal  fire,  and 
began  to  muse  on  the  miserable  situation  of  anxiety  and 
danger  in  which  he  was  placed,  where,  whether  he  contem- 
plated the  interests  of  his  love,  his  family  affections,  or  his 
friendships,  all  seemed  such  a  prospect  as  that  of  a  sailor 
who  looks  upon  breakers  on  every  hand,  from  the  deck  of  a 
vessel  which  no  longer  obeys  the  helm. 

As  Peveril  sat  sunk  in  despondency,  his  companion  in  mis- 
fortune drew  a  chair  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  chimney- 
corner,  and  began  to  gaze  at  him  with  a  sort  of  solemn  ear- 
nestness, which  at  length  compelled  him,  though  almost  in 
spite  of  himself,  to  pay  some  attention  to  the  singular  figure 
who  seemed  so  much  engrossed  with  contemplating  him. 

Geoffrey  Hudson  (we  drop  occasionally  the  title  of  knight- 
hood, which  the  King  had  bestowed  on  him  in  a  frolic,  but 
which  might  introduce  some  confusion  into  our  history), 
although  a  dwarf  of  the  least  possible  size,  had  nothing  posi- 
tively ugly  in  his  countenance  or  actually  distorted  in  his 
limbs.  His  head,  hands,  and  feet  were  indeed  large,  and 
disproportioned  to  the  height  of  his  body,  and  his  body  itself 
much  thicker  than  was  consistent  with  symmetry,  but  in  a 
degree  which  was  rather  ludicrous  than  disagreeable  to  look 
upon.  His  countenance,  in  particular,  had  he  been  a  little 
taller,  would  have  been  accounted,  in  youth,  handsome,  and 
now,  in  age,  striking  and  expressive  ;  it  was  but  the  uncom- 
mon disproportion  betwixt  the  head  and  the  trunk  which 
made  the  features  seem  whimsical  and  bizarre — an  effect 
which  was  considerably  increased  by  the  dwarf^s  mustachios, 
which  it  was  his  pleasure  to  wear  so  large  that  they  almost 
twisted  back  amongst,  and  mingled  with,  his  grizzled  hair. 

The  dress  of  this  singular  wight  announced  that  he  was 
not  entirely  free  from  the  unhappy  taste  which  frequently 


396  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

induces  those  whom  nature  has  marked  by  personal  deform- 
ity to  distinguish,  and  at  the  same  time  to  render  themselves 
ridiculous,  by  the  use  of  showy  colors,  and  garments  fantas- 
tically and  extraordinarily  fashioned.  But  poor  Geoffrey 
Hudson's  laces,  embroideries,  and  the  rest  of  his  finery  were 
sorely  worn  and  tarnished  by  the  time  which  he  had  spent 
in  jail  under  the  vague  and  malicious  accusation  that  he  was 
somehow  or  other  an  accomplice  in  this  all-involving,  all- 
devouring  whirlpool  of  a  Popish  conspiracy — an  impeachment 
which,  if  pronounced  by  a  mouth  the  foulest  and  most  mali- 
cious, was  at  that  time  sufficiently  predominant  to  sully  the 
fairest  reputation.  It  will  presently  appear  that,  in  the 
poor  man's  manner  of  thinking  and  tone  of  conversation, 
there  was  something  analogous  to  his  absurd  fashion  of  ap- 
parel ;  for,  as  in  the  latter  good  stuff  and  valuable  decora- 
tions were  rendered  ludicrous  by  the  fantastic  fashion  in 
which  they  were  made  up  ;  so,  such  glimmerings  of  good 
sense  and  honorable  feeling  as  the  little  man  often  evinced 
were  made  ridiculous  by  a  restless  desire  to  assume  certain 
airs  of  importance,  and  a  great  jealousy  of  being  despised  on 
account  of  the  peculiarity  of  his  outward  form. 

After  the  fellow-prisoners  had  looked  at  each  other  for 
some  time  in  silence,  the  dwarf,  conscious  of  his  dignity  as 
first  owner  of  their  joint  apartment,  thought  it  necessary  to 
do  the  honors  of  it  to  the  new-comer.  '^  Sir,''  he  said, 
modifying  the  alternate  harsh  and  squeaking  tones  of  his 
voice  into  accents  as  harmonious  as  they  could  attain,  "  I 
understand  you  to  be  the  son  of  my  worthy  namesake  and 
ancient  acquaintance,  the  stout  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  of  the 
Peak.  I  promise  you,  I  have  seen  your  father  where  blows 
have  been  going  more  plenty  than  gold  pieces  ;  and  for  a 
tall  heavy  man,  who  lacked,  as  we  martialists  thought,  some 
of  the  lightness  and  activity  of  our  more  slightly  made  Cav- 
aliers, he  performed  his  duty  as  a  man  might  desire.  I  am 
happy  to  see  you,  his  son  ;  and,  though  by  a  mistake,  I  am 
glad  we  are  to  share  this  comfortless  cabin  together." 

Julian  bowed,  and  thanked  his  courtesy  ;  and  Geoffrey 
Hudson,  having  broken  the  ice,  proceeded  to  question  him 
without  farther  ceremony.  ''  You  are  no  courtier,  I  pre- 
sume young  gentleman  ? ' 

Julian  replied  in  the  negative. 

"  I  thought  so,"  continued  the  dwarf  ;  "  for  although  1 
have  now  no  official  duty  at  court,  the  region  in  wliich  my 
early  years  were  spent,-  and  where  I  once  held  a  considerable 
office,  yet  I  still,  when  I  had  my  liberty,  visited  the  presence 


PEVmUL  OF  THE  PEAk  397 

from  time  to  time,  as  in  duty  bound  for  former  service  ;  and 
am  wont,  from  old  habit,  to  take  some  note  of  the  courtly 
gallants,  those  choice  spirits  of  the  age,  among  whom  I  was 
once  enrolled.  You  are,  not  to  compliment  you,  a  marked 
figure.  Master  Peveril,  though  something  of  the  tallest,  as 
was  your  father^s  case  ;  I  think  I  could  scarce  have  seen  you 
anywhere  without  remembering  you." 

Peveril  thought  he  might,  with  great  justice,  have  re- 
turned the  compliment ;  but  contented  himself  with  saying, 
'*  He  had  scarce  seen  the  British  court." 

'^  'Tis  pity,''  said  Hudson ;  ''  a  gallant  can  hardly  be 
formed  without  frequenting  it.  But  you  ^ave  been  perhaps 
in  a  rougher  school :  you  have  served,  doubtless  ?" 

''  My  Maker,  I  hope,"  said  Julian. 

''Fie  on  it,  you  mistake.  I  meant,"  said  Hudson,  "a  la 
FranQoise :  you  have  served  in  the  army  ?  " 

*'  No.     I  have  not  yet  had  that  honor,"  answered  Julian. 

''What!  neither  courtier  nor  soldier.  Master  Peveril?'-^ 
said  the  important  little  man.  "Your  father  is  to  blame. 
By  cock  and  pie  he  is.  Master  Peveril !  How  shall  a  man  be 
known  or  distinguished  unless  by  his  bearing  in  peace  and 
war  ?  I  tell  you,  sir,  that  at  Newberry,  where  I  charged 
with  my  troop  abreast  with  Prince  Rupert,  and  when,  as  you 
may  have  heard,  we  were  both  beaten  off  by  those  cuckoldly 
hinds  the  trained  bands  of  London,  we  did  what  men  could ; 
and  I  think  it  Was  a  matter  of  three  or  four  minutes  after 
most  of  our  gentlemen  had  been  driven  off,  that  his  High- 
ness and  I  continued  to  cut  at  their  long  pikes  with  our 
swords,  and  I  think  might  have  broken  in,  but  that  I  had 
a  tall,  long-legged  brute  of  a  horse,  and  my  sword  was  some- 
what short — in  fine,  at  last  we  were  obliged  to  make  volte- 
face,  and  then,  as  I  was  going  to  say,  the  fellows  were  so  glad 
to  get  rid  of  us  that  they  set  up  a  great  jubilee  cry  of 
*  There  goes  Prince  Robin  and  Cock  Robin  ! "  Ay — ay, 
every  scoundrel  among  them  knew  me  well.  But  those 
days  are  over.  And  where  were  you  educated  young  gentle- 
man ?  " 

Peveril  named  the  household  of  the  countess  of  Derby. 

"A  most  honorable  lady,  upon  my  word  as  a  gentleman," 
said  Hudson.  "  I  knew  the  noble  countess  well,  when  I  was 
about  the  person  of  my  royal  mistress,  Henrietta  Maria. 
She  was  then  the  very  muster  of  all  that  was  noble,  loyal, 
and  lovely.  She  ^as  indeed,  one  of  the  fifteen  fair  ones  of 
the  court  whom  I  permitted  to  call  me  Piccoluomini — a  fool- 
ish jest  on  my  somewhat  diminutive  figure,  which  always 


308  WAVERLET  NOVELS. 

distinguished  me  from  ordinf^ry  beings,  even  when  I  was 
young.  I  have  now  lost  much  stature  by  stooping,  but 
always  the  ladies  had  their  jest  at  me.  Perhaps,  young  man, 
I  had  my  own  amends  of  some  of  them  somewhere,  and 
somehow  or  other — I  say  nothing  if  I  had  or  no,  far  less  do 
I  insinuate  disrespect  to  the  noble  countess.  She  was 
daughter  of  the  Due  de  la  Tremouille,  or,  more  correctly, 
Des  Thenars.  But  certainly  to  serve  the  ladies,  and  con- 
descend to  their  humors,  even  when  somewhat  too  free  or  too 
fantastic,  is  the  true  decorum  of  gentle  blood." 

Depressed  as  his  spirits  were,  Peveril  could  scarce  forbear 
smiling  when  he  louoked  at  the  pigmy  creature,  who  told  these 
stories  with  infinite  complacency,  and  appeared  disposed  to 
proclaim,  as  his  own  herald,  that  he  had  been  a  very  model 
of  valor  and  gallantry,  though  love  and  arms  seemed  to  be 
pursuits  totally  irreconcilable  to  his  shrivelled,  weather- 
beaten  countenance  and  wasted  limbs.  Julian  was,  however, 
so  careful  to  avoid  giving  his  companion  pain,  that  he  en- 
deavored to  humor  him  by  saying  that,  "  Unquestionably, 
one  bred  up  like  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson,  in  courts  and  camps, 
knew  exactly  when  to  suffer  personal  freedoms  and  when  to 
control  them." 

The  little  knight,  with  great  vivacity,  though  with  some 
difficulty,  began  to  drag  his  seat  from  the  side  of  the  fire 
opposite  to  that  where  Julian  was  seated,  and  at  length  suc- 
ceeded in  bringing  it  near  him,  in  token  of  increasing 
cordiality. 

*' You  say  well.  Master  Peveril,"  said  the  dwarf;  ''and  1 
have  given  proofs  both  of  bearing  and  forbearing.  Yes,  sir, 
there  was  not  that  thing  which  my  most  royal  mistress, 
Henrietta  Maria,  could  have  required  of  me,  that  I  would 
not  have  complied  with,  sir  :  I  was  her  sworn  servant,  both 
in  war  and  in  festival,  in  battle  and  pageant,  sir.  At  her 
Majesty^s  particular  request,  I  once  condescended  to  become 
— ladies,  you  know,  have  strange  fancies — to  become  the 
tenant,  for  a  time,  of  the  interior  of  a  pie." 

''  Of  a  pie  !"  said  Julian,  somewhat  amazed. 

''Yes,  sir,  of  a  pie.  I  hope  you  find  nothing  risible  in 
my  complaisance  ?  "  replied  his  companion,  something  jeal- 
ously. 

"  Not  I,  sir,"  said  Peveril ;  "  I  have  other  matters  than 
laughter  in  my  head  at  present." 

"  So  had  I,"  said  the  dwarfish  champion,  "when  I  found 
myself  imprisoned  in  a  huge  platter,  of  no  ordinary  dimen- 
flions  you  may  be  assured,  since  I  could  lie  at  length  in  it^ 


1 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  399 

and  when  I  was  entombed,  as  it  were,  in  walls  of  standing 
crust  and  a  huge  cover  of  pastry,  the  whole  constituting  a 
sort  of  sarcophagus,  of  size  enough  to  have  recorded  the 
epitaph  of  a  general  officer  or  an  archbishop  on  the  lid.  Sir, 
notwithstanding  the  conveniences  which  were  made  to  give 
me  air,  it  was  more  like  being  buried  alive  than  aught  else 
which  I  could  think  of  ?  ^' 

''  I  conceive  it,"  said  Julian. 

"  Moreover,  sir,"  continued  the  dwarf,  "  there  were  few 
in  the  secret,  which  was  contrived  for  the  Queen^s  divertise- 
ment ;  for  advancing  of  which  I  would  have  crept  into  a 
filbert  nut,  had  it  been  possible  ;  and  few,  as  I  said,  being 
private  in  the  scheme,  there  was  a  risk  of  accidents.  I 
doubted,  while  in  my  darksome  abode,  whether  some  awk- 
ward attendant  might  not  have  let  me  fall,  as  I  have  seen 
happen  to  a  venison  pasty  ;  or  whether  some  hungry  guest 
might  not  anticipate  the  moment  of  my  resurrection,  by 
sticking  his  knife  into  my  upper  crust.  And  though  I  had 
my  weapons  about  me,  young  man,  as  has  been  my  custom 
in  every  case  of  peril,  yet,  if  such  a  rash  person  had  plunged 
deep  into  the  bowels  of  the  supposed  pasty,  my  sword  and 
dagger  could  barely  have  served  me  to  avenge,  assuredly  not 
to  prevent,  either  of  these  catastrophes." 

**  Certainly  I  do  so  understand  it,"  said  Julian,  who  be- 
gan, however,  to  feel  that  the  company  of  little  Hudson, 
talkative  as  he  showed  himself,  was  likely  rather  to  aggra- 
vate than  to  alleviate  the  inconveniences  of  a  prison. 

"  Nay,"  continued  the  little  man,  enlarging  on  his  former 
topic,  *'  I  had  other  subjects  of  apprehension  ;  for  it  pleased 
my  Lord  of  Buckingham,  his  Grace^s  father  who  now  bears 
the  title,  in  his  plenitude  of  court  favor,  to  command  the 
pasty  to  be  carried  down  to  the  office,  and  committed  anew 
to  the  oven,  alleging  preposterously  that  it  was  better  to  be 
eaten  warm  than  cold." 

"  And  did  this,  sir,  not  disturb  your  equanimity  ?  "  said 
Julian. 

''My  young  friend,"  said  Geoffrey  Hudson,  "I  cannot 
deny  it.  Nature  will  claim  her  rights  from  the  best  and 
boldest  of  us.  I  thought  of  Nebuchadnezzar  and  his  fiery 
furnace ;  and  I  waxed  warm  with  apprehension.  But,  I 
thank  Heaven,  I  also  thought  of  my  sworn  duty  to  my  royal 
mistress  ;  and  was  thereby  obliged  and  enabled  to  resist  all 
temptations  to  make  myself  prematurely  known.  Never- 
theless, the  duke — if  of  malice,  may  Heaven  forgive  him — 
followed  down  into  the  office  himself,  and  urged  the  master 


m  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

cook  very  hard  that  the  pasty  should  be  heated,  were  it  but 
for  five  minutes.  But  the  master-cook,  being  privy  to  the 
very  different  intentions  of  my  royal  mistress,  did  most 
manfully  resist  the  order ;  and  I  was  again  reconveyed  in 
safety  to  the  royal  table." 

"And  in  due  time  liberated  from  your  confinement,  I 
doubt  not  ?  "  said  Peveril. 

*'  Yes,  sir ;  that  happy,  and  I  may  say  glorious,  moment 
at  length  arrived,"  continued  the  dwarf.  "  The  upper 
crust  was  removed  ;  I  started  up  to  the  sound  of  trumpet 
and  clarion,  like  the  soul  of  a  warrior  when  the  last  sum- 
mons shall  sound  ;  or  rather,  if  that  simile  be  over  auda- 
cious, like  a  spell-bound  champion  relieved  from  his  en- 
chanted state.  It  was  then  that,  with  my  buckler  on  my 
arm  and  my  trusty  Bilboa  in  my  hand,  I  executed  a  sort  of 
warlike  dance,  in  which  my  skill  and  agility  then  rendered 
me  pre-eminent,  displaying  at  the  same  time  my  postures, 
both  of  defense  and  offense,  in  a  manner  so  totally  inimita- 
ble, that  I  was  almost  deafened  with  the  applause  of  all 
around  me,  and  half- drowned  by  the  scented  waters  with 
which  the  ladies  of  the  court  deluged  me  from  their  casting- 
bottles.  I  had  amends  of  his  Grace  of  Buckingham  also ; 
for  as  I  tripped  a  hasty  morris  hither  and  thither  upon  the 
dining-table,  now  offering  my  blade,  now  recovering  it,  I 
made  a  blow  at  his  nose — a  sort  of  estrama^on ,  the  dexterity 
of  which  consists  in  coming  mighty  near  to  the  object  you 
seem  to  aim  at,  yet  not  attaining  it.  You  may  have  seen  a 
barber  make  such  a  flourish  with  his  razor.  I  promise  you, 
his  Grace  sprung  back  a  half -yard  at  least.  He  was  pleased 
to  threaten  to  brain  me  with  a  chicken-bone,  as  he  disdain- 
fully expressed  it ;  but  the  King  said,  '  George,  you  have 
but  a  Rowland  for  an  Oliver/  And  so  I  tripped  on,  showing 
a  bold  heedlessness  of  his  displeasure,  which  few  dared  to 
have  done  at  that  timj,  albeit  countenanced  to  the  utmost 
like  me  by  the  smiles  of  the  brave  and  the  fair.  But,  well- 
a-day  !  sir  youth,  its  fashions,  its  follies,  its  frolics,  and  all 
its  pomp  and  pride,  are  as  idle  and  transitory  as  the  crack- 
ling of  thorns  under  a  pot." 

"  The  flower  that  is  cast  into  the  oven  were  a  better  sim- 
ile," thought  Peveril.  "  Good  God,  that  a  man  should  live 
to  regret  not  being  young  enough  to  be  still  treated  as  baked 
meat  and  served  up  in  a  pie  !  " 

His  companion,  whose  tongue  had  for  many  days  been  as 
closely  imprisoned  as  his  person,  seemed  resolved  to  indem- 
nify his  loquacity  by  continuing  to  indulge  it  on  the  present 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  401 

occasion  at  his  companion's  expense.  He  proceeded,  there- 
fore, in  a  solemn  tone,  to  moralize  on  the  adventure  which 
he  had  narrated. 

''  Young  men  will  no  doubt  think  one  to  be  envied,"  he 
said,  ^^  who  was  thus  enabled  to  be  the  darling  and  admira- 
tion of  the  court  (Julian  internally  stood  self-exculpated 
from  the  suspicion),  and  yet  it  is  better  to  possess  fewer 
means  of  distinction,  and  remain  free  from  the  backbiting, 
the  slander,  and  the  odium  which  are  always  the  share  of 
court  favor.  Men,  who  had  no  other  cause,  cast  reflections 
upon  me  because  my  size  varied  somewhat  from  the  common 
proportion ;  and  jests  were  sometimes  unthinkingly  passed 
upon  me  by  those  1  was  bound  to,  who  did  not  in  that  case, 
peradventure,  sufficiently  consider  that  the  wren  is  made  by 
the  same  hand  which  formed  the  bustard,  and  that  the 
diamond,  though  small  in  size,  out-values  ten  thousandfold 
the  rude  granite.  Nevertheless,  they  proceeded  in  the  vein 
of  humor  ;  and  as  I  could  not  in  duty  or  gratitude  retort 
upon  nobles  and  princes,  I  was  compelled  to  cast  about  in 
my  mind  how  to  vindicate  my  honor  towards  those  who, 
being  in  the  same  rank  with  myself  as  servants  and  courtiers, 
nevertheless  bore  themselves  towards  me  as  if  they  were  of 
a  superior  class  in  the  rank  of  honor,  as  well  as  in  the  acci- 
dental circumstance  of  stature.  And  as  a  lesson  to  my  own 
pride  and  that  of  others,  it  so  happened  that  the  pageant 
which  I  have  but  just  narrated — which  I  justly  reckon  the 
most  honorable  moment  of  my  life,  excepting  perhaps  my 
distinguished  share  in  the  battle  of  Round-way-Down — be- 
came the  cause  of  a  most  tragic  event,  in  which  I  acknowl- 
edge the  greatest  misfortune  of  my  existence.^' 

The  dwarf  here  paused,  fetched  a  sigh,  big  at  once  with 
regret  and  with  the  importance  becoming  the  subject  of  a 
tragic  history  ;  then  proceeded  as  follows  : — 

"  You  would  have  thought  in  your  simplicity,  young  gen- 
tleman, that  the  pretty  pageant  I  have  mentioned  could 
only  have  been  quoted  to  my  advantage  as  a  rare  masking 
frolic,  prettily  devised,  and  not  less  deftly  executed ;  and 
yet  the  malice  of  the  courtiers,  who  maligned  and  envied 
me,  made  them  strain  their  wit  and  exhaust  their  ingenuity 
in  putting  false  and  ridiculous  constructions  upon  it.  In 
short,  my  ears  were  so  much  offended  with  allusions  to  pies, 

Euff-paste,  ovens,  and  the  like,  that  I  was  compeled  to  pro- 
ibit  such  subject  of  mirth,  under  penalty  of  my  instant  and 
severe  displeasure.  But  it  happ'd  there  was  then  a  gallant 
about  the  court,  a  man  of  good  quality,  son  to  a  knight 


i02  WA  VEBLEY  NO  VEL8 

baronet,  and  in  high  esteem  with  the  best  in  that  sphere, 
also  a  familiar  friend  of  mine  own,  from  whom,  therefore,  1 
had  no  reason  to  expect  any  of  that  species  of  gibing  which 
I  had  intimated  my  purpose  to  treat  as  offensive.  Howbeit, 
it  pleased  the  Honorable  Mr.  Crofts,  so  was  this  youth  called 
and  designed,  one  night,  at  the  groom  porter's,  being  full  of 
wine  and  waggery,  to  introduce  this  threadbare  subject,  and 
to  say  something  concerning  a  goose-pie,  which  I  could  not 
but  consider  as  leveled  at  me.  Nevertheless,  I  did  but 
calmly  and  solidly  pray  him  to  choose  a  different  subject ; 
failing  which,  I  let  him  know  I  should  be  sudden  in  my 
resentment.  Notwithstanding,  he  continued  in  the  same 
tone  and  even  aggravated  the  offense  by  speaking  of  a  tomtit, 
and  other  unnecessary  and  obnoxious  comparisons  ;  where- 
upon I  was  compelled  to  send  him  a  cartel,  and  we  met 
accordingly.  Now,  as  I  really  loved  the  youth,  it  was  my 
intention  only  to  correct  him  by  a  flesh  wound  or  two  ;  and 
I  would  willingly  that  he  had  named  the  sword  for  his 
weapon.  Nevertheless,  he  made  pistols  his  election  ;  and 
being  on  horseback,  he  produced,  by  way  of  his  own  weapon, 
a  foolish  engine  which  children  are  wont,  in  their  roguery, 
to  use  for  spouting  water — a — a — in  short  I  forget  the 
name.'* 

''  A  squirt,  doubtless,'^  said  Peveril,  who  began  to  recol- 
lect having  heard  something  of  this  adventure. 

'^  You  are  right,'*  said  the  dwarf  :  '^  you  have  indeed  the 
name  of  the  little  engine,  of  which  I  have  had  experience  in 
passing  the  yards  at  Westminster.  Well,  sir,  this  token  of 
slight  regard  compeled  me  to  give  the  gentleman  such 
language  as  soon  rendered  it  necessary  for  him  to  take  more 
serious  arms.  We  fought  on  horseback — breaking  ground 
and  advancing  by  signal ;  and,  as  I  never  miss  aim,  I  had 
the  misadventure  to  kill  the  Honorable  Master  Crofts  at  the 
first  shot.  I  would  not  wish  my  worst  foe  the  pain  which  I 
felt  when  I  saw  him  reel  on  his  saddle,  and  so  fall  down  to 
the  earth  ;  and,  when  I  perceived  that  the  life-blood  was  pour- 
ing fast,  I  could  not  but  wish  to  Heaven  that  it  had  been 
my  own  instead  of  his.  Thus  fell  youth,  hopes,  and  bravery, 
a  sacrifice  to  a  silly  and  thoughtless  jest ;  yet,  alas  !  wherem 
had  I  choice,  seeing  that  honor  is,  as  it  were,  the  very  breath 
in  our  nostrils,  and  that  in  no  sense  can  we  be  said  to  live  if 
we  permit  ourselves  to  be  deprived  of  it  ?" 

The  tone  of  feeling  in  which  the  dwarfish  hero  concluded 
his  story  gave  Julian  a  better  opinion  of  his  heart,  and  even 
^ot  his  understanding,  than  he  had  been  able  to  form  of  one 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  403 

who  gJoried  in  having,  upon  a  grand  occasion,  formed  the 
contents  of  a  pasty.  He  was  indeed  enabled  to  conjecture 
that  the  little  champion  was  seduced  into  such  exhibitions 
by  the  necessity  attached  to  his  condition,  by  his  own 
vanity,  and  by  the  flattery  bestowed  on  him  by  those  who 
sought  pleasure  in  practical  jokes.  The  fate  of  the 
unlucky  Master  Crofts,  however,  as  well  as  various  exploits 
of  this  diminutive  person  during  the  Civil  Wars,  in  which 
he  actually,  and  with  great  gallantry,  commanded  a  troop 
of  horse,  rendered  most  men  cautious  of  openly  rallying 
him  ;  which  was  indeed  the  less  necessary,  as,  when  left 
alone,  he  seldom  failed  voluntarily  to  show  himself  on  the 
ludicrous  side. 

At  one  hour  ofter  noon,  the  turnkey,  true  to  his  word, 
supplied  the  prisoners  with  a  very  tolerable  dinner  and  a 
flask  of  well-flavored,  though  light,  claret,  which  the  old 
man,  who  was  something  of  a  bon-vivant,  regretted  to  ob- 
serve was  nearly  as  diminutive  as  himself.  The  evening 
also  passed  away,  but  not  without  continued  symptoms  of 
garrulity  on  the  part  of  Geoffrey  Hudson. 

It  is  true,  these  were  of  a  graver  character  than  he  had 
hitherto  exhibited,  for,  when  the  flask  was  empty,  he  repeated 
a  long  Latin  prayer.  But  the  religious  act  in  which  he  had 
been  engaged  only  gave  his  discourse  a  more  serious  turn 
than  belonged  to  his  former  themes  of  war,  lady's  love,  and 
courtly  splendor. 

The  little  knight  harangued,  at  first  on  polemical  points  of 
divinity,  and  diverged  from  this  thorny  path  into  the  neigh- 
boring and  twilight  walk  of  mysticism.  He  talked  of  secret 
warnings,  of  the  predictions  of  sad-eyed  prophets,  of  the 
visits  of  monitory  spirits,  and  the  Eosicrucian  secrets  of  the 
Cabala  ;  all  which  topics  he  treated  of  with  such  apparent 
conviction,  nay,  with  so  many  appeals  to  personal  experience, 
that  one  would  have  supposed  him  a  member  of  the  fraternity 
of  gnomes,  or  fairies,  whom  he  resembled  so  much  in  point 
of  size. 

In  short,  he  persevered  for  a  stricken  hour  in  such  a 
torrent  of  unnecessary  tattle  as  determined  Peveril,  at  all 
events,  to  endeavor  to  procure  a  separate  lodging.  Having 
repeated  his  evening  prayers  in  Latin,  as  formerly,  for  the 
old  gentleman  was  a  Catholic,  which  was  the  sole  cause  of 
his  falling  under  suspicion,  he  set  off  on  a  new  score,  as 
they  were  undressing  ;  and  continued  to  prattle  until  he  had 
fairly  talked  both  himself  and  his  companion  to  sleep. 


CHAPTEE  XXXV 

Of  airy  tongues  that  syllable  men's  names. 

Comu8, 

Julian"  had  fallen  asleep  with  his  brain  rather  filled  with 
his  own  sad  reflections  than  with  the  mystical  lore  of  the 
little  knight ;  and  yet  it  seemed  as  if  in  his  visions  the  latter 
had  been  more  present  to  his  mind  than  the  former. 

He  dreamed  of  gliding  spirits,  gibbering  phantoms,  bloody 
hands,  which,  dimly  seen  by  twilight,  seemed  to  beckon  him 
forward  like  errant-knight  on  sad  adventure  bound.  More 
than  once  he  started  from  his  sleep,  so  lively  was  the  in- 
fluence of  these  visions  on  his  imagination  ;  and  he  always 
awaked  under  the  impressions  that  some  one  stood  by  his 
bedside.  The  chillness  of  his  ankles,  the  weight  and  clatter 
of  the  fetters,  as  he  turned  himself  on  his  pallet,  reminded 
him  on  these  occasions  where  he  was,  and  under  what  cir- 
cumstances. The  extremity  to  which  he  saw  all  that  was 
dear  to  him  at  present  reduced  struck  a  deeper  cold  on  his 
heart  than  the  iron  upon  his  limbs  ;  nor  could  he  compose 
himself  again  to  rest  without  a  mental  prayer  to  Heaven  for 
protection.  But  when  he  had  been  for  a  third  time  awakened 
from  repose  by  these  thick-stirring  fancies,  his  distress  of 
mind  vented  itself  in  speech,  and  he  was  unable  to  suppress 
the  almost  despairing  ejaculation,  ^'  God  have  mercy  upon 
us  V 

''Amen  \"  answered  a  voice  as  sweet  and  'soft  as  honey 
dew,'  which  sounded  as  if  the  words  were  spoken  close  by 
his  bedside. 

The  natural  inference  was  that  Geoffrey  Hudson,  his  com- 
panion in  calamity,  had  echoed  the  prayer  which  was  so 
proper  to  the  situation  of  both.  But  the  tone  of  voice  was 
so  different  from  the  harsh  and  dissonant  sounds  of  the 
dwarf's  enunciation,  that  Peveril  was  impressed  with  the 
certainty  it  could  not  proceed  from  Hudson.  He  was  struck 
with  involuntary  terror,  for  which  he  could  give  no  sufficient 
reason  ;  and  it  was  not  without  an  effort  that  he  was  able  to 
utter  the  question,  ''  Sir  Geoffrey,  did  you  speak  ?" 

No  answer  was  returned.    He  repeated  the  question  louder : 

404 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  405 

and  the  same  silver-toned  voice  which  had  formerly  said 
'^Amen*'  to  hip  prayers  answered  to  his  interrogatory, 
*'  Your  companion  will  not  awake  while  I  am  here/' 

"  And  who  are  you  ?  What  seek  you  ?  How  came  you 
into  this  place  ?**  said  Peveril,  huddling,  eagerly,  question 
apon  question. 

*'  I  am  a  wretched  being,  but  one  who  loves  you  well,  I 
come  for  your  good.     Concern  yourself  no  farthero^' 

It  now  rushed  on  Julian's  mind  that  he  had  heard  of  per- 
gons  possessed  of  that  wonderful  talent  of  counterfeiting 
sounds  to  such  accuracy  that  they  could  impose  on  their 
hearers  the  belief  that  they  proceeded  from  a  point  of  the 
apartment  entirely  opposite  to  that  which  the  real  speaker 
occupied.  Persuaded  that  he  had  now  gained  the  depth  of 
the  mystery,  he  replied,  *'  This  trifling,  Sir  Geoffrey,  is  un- 
seasonable. Say  what  you  have  to  say  in  your  own  voice  and 
manner.  These  apish  pleasantries  do  not  become  midnight 
in  a  Newgate  dungeon. '' 

"  But  the  being  who  speaks  with  you,^*  answered  the  voice, 
"is  fitted  for  the  darkest  hour  and  the  most  melancholy 
haunts." 

Impatient  of  suspense,  and  determined  to  satisfy  his  cu- 
riosity, Julian  jumped  at  once  from  his  pallet,  hoping  to  se- 
cure the  speaker,  whose  voice  indicated  he  was  so  near. 
But  he  altogether  failed  in  his  attempt,  and  grasped  nothing 
save  thin  air. 

For  a  turn  or  two,  Peveril  shuffled  at  random  about  the 
room,  with  his  arms  extended  ;  and  then  at  last  recollected 
that,  with  the  impediment  of  his  shackles,  and  the  noisv> 
which  necessarily  accompanied  his  motions,  and  announced 
where  he  was,  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  lay  hands 
on  any  one  who  might  be  disposed  to  keep  out  of  his  reach. 
He  therefore  endeavored  to  return  to  his  bed  ;  but,  in  grop- 
ing for  his  way,  lighted  first  on  that  of  his  fellow-prisoner. 
The  little  captive  slept  deep  and  heavy,  as  was  evinced  from 
his  breathing ;  and  upon  listening  a  moment,  Julian  became 
again  certain,  either  that  his  companion  was  the  most  artful 
of  ventriloquists  and  of  dissemblers,  or  that  there  was  actu- 
ally within  the  precincts  of  that  guarded  chamber  some 
third  being,  whose  very  presence  there  seemed  to  intimate 
that  it  belonged  not  to  the  ordinary  line  of  humanity. 

Julian  was  no  ready  believer  in  the  supernatural ;  but  that 
age  was  very  far  from  being  so  incredulous  concerning 
ghostly  occurrences  as  our  own  ;  and  it  was  no  way  deroga- 
tory to  his  good  sense  that  he  shared  the  prejudices  of  his 


406  WA  VERLET  NO  VEL S 

time.  His  hair  began  to  bristle,  and  the  moisture  to  stand 
on  his  brow,  as  he  called  on  his  companion  to  awake,  for 
Heaven's  sake. 

The  dwarf  answered — but  he  spoke  without  awaking — *  The 
day  may  dawn  and  be  d — d.  Tell  the  master  of  the  horse 
I  will  not  go  to  the  hunting,  unless  I  have  the  little  black 
jennet. '' 

*'  I  tell  you,*'  said  Julian,  •'  there  is  some  one  in  the  apart- 
ment. 

Have  you  not  a  tinder-box  to  strike  a  light  ?  " 

^'  I  care  not  how  slight  my  horse  be,"  replied  the  slum- 
berer,  pursuing  his  own  train  of  ideas,  which,  doubtless, 
carried  him  back  to  the  green  woods  of  Windsor,  and  the 
royal  deer-hunts  which  he  had  witnessed  there.  '*  I  am  not 
overweight.  I  will  not  ride  that  great  Holstein  brute,  that 
I  must  climb  up  to  by  a  ladder,  and  then  sit  on  his  back 
like  a  pin-cushion  on  an  elephant. '^ 

Julian  at  length  put  his  hand  to  the  sleeper's  shoulder  and 
shook  him  so  as  to  awaken  him  from  his  dreams  ;  when  after 
two  or  three  snorts  and  groans,  the  dwarf  asked  peevishly, 
"  What  the  devil  ailed  him  ?  " 

'*  The  devil  himself,  for  what  I  know,"  said  Peveril,  "  is 
at  this  very  moment  in  the  room  here  beside  us." 

The  dwarf  on  this  information  started  up,  crossed  him- 
self, and  began  to  hammer  a  flint  and  steel  with  all  despatch, 
until  he  had  lighted  a  little  piece  of  candle,  which  he  said 
was  consecrated  to  St.  Bridget,  and  as  powerful  as  the  herb 
called  fuga  dosmomim,  or  the  liver  of  the  fish  burnt  by  Tobit 
in  the  house  of  Raguel,  for  chasing  all  goblins  and  evil  or 
dubious  spirits  from  the  place  of  its  radiance  ;  ''if  indeed," 
as  the  dwarf  carefully  guarded  his  proposition,  ^'  they  existed 
anywhere,  save  in  the  imagination  of  his  fellow-prisoner." 

Accordingly,  the  apartment  was  no  sooner  enlightened  by 
this  holy  candle's  end  than  Julian  began  to  doubt  the  evi- 
dence of  his  own  ears  ;  for  not  only  was  there  no  one  in  the 
room  save  Sir  G-eoffrey  Hudson  and  himself,  but  all  the  fasten- 
ings of  the  door  were  so  secure  that  it  seemed  impossible  that 
they  could  have  been  opened  and  again  fixed,  without  a  great 
deal  of  noise,  which,  on  the  last  occasion  at  least,  could  not 
possibly  have  escaped  his  ears,  seeing  that  he  must  have 
been  on  his  feet,  and  employed  in  searching  the  chamber, 
when  the  unknown,  if  an  earthly  being,  was  in  the  act  of 
entreating  from  it. 

Julian  gazed  for  a  moment  with  great  earnestness,  and  no 
little  perplexity,  first  on  the  bolted  door,  then  on  the  grated 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  401 

window ;  and  began  to  accuse  his  own  imagination  of  haV' 
ing  played  him  an  unpleasant  trick.  He  answered  little  to 
the  questions  of  Hudson,  and  returning  to  his  bed,  heard,  in 
silence,  a  long  studied  oration  on  the  merits  of  St.  Bridget 
which  comprehended  the  greater  part  of  her  long-winded 
legend,  and  concluded  with  the  assurance  that,  from  all  ac- 
counts preserved  of  her,  that  holy  saint  was  the  least  of  all 
possible  women,  except  those  of  the  pigmy  kind. 

By  the  time  the  dwarf  had  ceased  to  speak,  Julian's  desire 
of  sleep  had  returned  ;  and  after  a  few  glances  around  the 
apartment,  which  was  still  illuminated  by  the  expiring 
beam  of  the  holy  taper,  his  eyes  were  again  closed  in  forget- 
fulncss,  and  his  repose  was  not  again  disturbed  in  the  course 
of  that  night. 

Morning  dawns  on  Newgate,  as  well  as  on  the  freest  moun- 
tain-turf which  Welshman  or  wild  goat  ever  trod  ;  but  in 
so  different  a  fashion,  that  the  very  beams  of  heaven's  pre- 
cious sun,  when  they  penetrate  into  the  recesses  of  the 
prison-house,  have  the  air  of  being  committed  to  jail.  Still, 
with  the  light  of  day  around  him,  Peveril  easily  persuaded 
himself  of  the  vanity  of  his  preceding  night's  visions  ;  and 
smiled  when  he  reflected  that  fancies,  similar  to  those  to 
which  his  ear  was  often  exposed  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  had  been 
able  to  arrange  themselves  in  a  manner  so  impressive,  when 
he  heard  them  from  the  mouth  of  so  singular  a  character  as 
Hudson,  and  in  the  solitude  of  a  prison. 

Before  Julian  had  awaked,  the  dwarf  had  already  quitted 
his  bed,  and  was  seated  in  the  chimney-corner  of  the  apart- 
ment, where,  with  his  own  hands,  he  had  arranged  a  morsel 
of  fire,  partly  attending  to  the  simmering  of  a  small  pot, 
which  he  had  placed  on  the  flame,  partly  occupied  with  a 
huge  folio  volume  which  lay  on  the  table  before  him,  and 
seemed  wellnigh  as  tall  and  bulky  as  himself.  He  was 
wrapped  up  in  the  dusky  crimson  cloak  already  mentioned, 
which  served  him  for  a  morniag-gown  as  well  as  a  mantle 
against  the  cold,  and  which  corresponded  with  a  large  mon- 
tero  cap,  that  enveloped  his  head.  The  singularity  of  his 
features,  and  of  the  eyes,  armed  with  spectacles,  which  were 
now  cast  on  the  subject  of  his  studies,  now  directed  towards 
his  little  caldron,  would  have  tempted  Rembrandt  to  exhibit 
him  on  canvas,  either  in  the  character  of  an  alchemist  or  of 
a  necromancer,  engaged  in  some  strange  experiment,  under 
the  direction  of  one  of  the  huge  manuals  which  treat  of  the 
theory  of  these  mystic  arts. 

The  attention  of  the  dwarf  was  bent,  however,  upon  a 


408  WAVEULEY  NOVELS 

more  domestic  object.  He  was  only  preparing  soup,  of  no 
unsavory  quality,  for  breakfast,  which  he  invited  Peveril  to 
partake  with  him.  ^'  I  am  an  old  soldier,^'  he  said,  "  and, 
I  must  add,  an  old  prisoner ;  and  understand  how  to  shift 
for  myself  better  than  you  can  do,  young  man.  Confusion 
to  the  scoundrel  Clink,  he  has  put  the  spice-box  out  of  my 
reach  !  Will  you  hand  it  me  from  the  mantelpiece  !  I  will 
teach  you,  as  the  French  have  it,  f aire  la  cuisine  ;  and  then, 
if  you  please,  we  will  divide,  lite  brethren,  the  labors  of 
our  prison-house." 

Julian  readily  assented  to  the  little  man's  friendly  pro- 
posal, without  interposing  any  doubt  as  to  his  continuing  an 
mmate  of  the  same  cell.  Truth  is,  that  although,  upon  the 
whole,  he  was  inclined  to  regard  the  whispering  voice  of  the 
preceding  evening  as  the  impression  of  his  own  excited 
fancy,  he  felt,  nevertheless,  curiosity  to  see  how  a  secend 
night  was  to  pass  over  in  the  same  cell ;  and  the  tone  of  the 
invisible  intruder,  which  at  midnight  had  been  heard  by  him 
with  terror,  now  excited  on  recollection  a  gentle  and  not  un- 
pleasing  species  of  agitation — the  combined  effect  of  awe 
and  of  awakened  curiosity. 

Days  of  captivity  have  little  to  mark  them  as  they  glide 
away.  That  which  followed  the  night  which  we  have  de- 
scribed afforded  no  circumstances  of  note.  The  dwarf  im- 
parted to  his  youthful  companion  a  volume  similar  to  that 
which  formed  his  own  studies,  and  which  proved  to  be  a  tome 
of  one  of  Scuderi's  now  forgotten  romances,  of  which  Geof- 
frey Hudson  was  a  great  admirer,  and  which  were  then  very 
fashionable  both  at  the  French  and  English  courts  ;  although 
they  contrive  to  unite  in  their  immense  folios  all  the  improb- 
abilities and  absurdities  of  the  old  romances  of  chivalry, 
without  that  tone  of  imagination  which  pervades  them,  and 
all  the  metaphysical  absurdities  which  Cowley  and  the  poets 
of  the  age  had  heaped  upon  the  passion  of  love,  like  so  many 
loads  of  small  coal  upon  a  slender  fire,  which  it  smothers 
instead  of  aiding. 

But  Julian  had  no  alternative  saving  only  to  muse  over 
the  sorrows  of  Artamenes  and  Mandane,  or  on  the  compli- 
cated distress  of  his  own  situation  ;  and  in  these  disagreeable 
divertisements  the  morning  crept  through  as  it  could. 

Noon  first,  and  thereafter  nightfall,  were  successively 
marked  by  a  brief  visit  from  their  stern  turnkey,  who,  with 
noiseless  step  and  sullen  demeanor,  did  in  silence  the  neces- 
sary offices  about  the  meals  of  the  prisoners,  exchanging 
with  them  as  few  words  as  an  official  in  the  Spanish  In- 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  409 

qnisition  might  have  permitted  himself  upon  a  similar  occa- 
sion. With  the  aame  taciturn  gravit}^  very  different  from 
the  laughing  humor  into  which  he  had  been  surprised  on  a 
former  occasion,  he  struck  their  fetters  with  a  small  ham- 
mer, to  ascertain,  by  the  sound  thus  produced,  whether  they 
had  been  tampered  with  by  file  or  otherwise.  He  next 
mounted  on  a  table  to  make  the  same  experiment  on.tjie 
window-grating.  -  r!ft 

Julian's  heart  throbbed  ;  for  might  not  one  of  those  grates 
have  been  tampered  with  as  to  give  entrance  to  the  noc- 
Hirnal  visitant  ?  But  they  returned  to  the  experienced  ear 
of  Master  Clink,  when  he  struck  them  in  turn  with  the 
hammer,  a  clear  and  ringing  sound,  which  assured  him  of 
their  security. 

*^  It  would  be  difficult  for  any  one  to  get  in  through 
these  defenses, ''said  Julian,  giving  vent  in  words  to  his  own 
feelings. 

**  Few  wish  that,"  answered  the  surly  groom,  misconstru- 
ing what  was  passing  in  Peveril's  mind  ;  ''and  let  me  tell 
you,  master,  folks  will  find  it  quite  as  difficult  to  get  out." 
He  retired,  and  night  came  on. 

The  dwarf,  who  took  upon  himself  for  the  day  the  whole 
duties  of  the  apartment,  trundled  about  the  room,  making  a 
most  important  clutter  as  he  extinguished  their  fire,  and  put 
aside  various  matters  which  had  been  in  use  in  the  course  of 
the  day,  talking  to  himself  all  the  while  in  a  tone  of  no  little 
consequence,  occasionally  grounded  on  the  dexterity  with 
which  an  old  soldier  could  turn  his  hand  to  everything,  and 
at  other  times  on  the  wonder  that  a  courtier  of  the  first  rank 
should  condescend  to  turn  his  hand  to  anything.  Then 
came  the  repetition  of  his  accustomed  prayers  ;  but  his  dis- 
position to  converse  did  not,  as  on  the  former  occasion,  re- 
vive after  his  devotions.  On  the  contrary,  long  before  Julian 
had  closed  an  eye,  the  heavy  breathing  from  Sir  Geoffrey 
Hudson's  pallet  declared  that  the  dwarf  was  already  in  the 
arms  of  Morpheus. 

Amid  the  total  darkness  of  the  apartment,  and  with  a 
longing  desire,  and  at  the  same  time  no  small  fear,  for  the 
recurrence  of  the  mysterious  address  of  the  preceding  even- 
ing, Julian  lay  long  awake  without  his  thoughts  receiving 
any  interruption,  save  when  the  clock  told  the  passing  hour 
from  the  neighboring  steeple  of  St.  Sepulcher.  At  length 
he  sunk  into  slumber  ;  but  had  not  slept,  to  his  judgment, 
above  an  hour,  when  he  was  roused  by  the  sound  which, hi^ 
waking  ear  had  so  long  expected  in  vain,  'J^ 


410  WA  VERLEY  NO  VEL  S 

**  Can  you  sleep  ?  Will  you  sleep  ?  Dare  you  sleep  ? " 
were  the  questions  impressed  on  his  ear,  in  the  same  clear, 
soft,  and  melodious  voice  which  had  addressed  him  on  the 
preceding  night. 

*'  Who  is  it  asks  me  the  question  ? "  answered  Julian. 
*'  But  be  the  questioner  good  or  evil,  I  reply  that  I  am  a 
guiltless  prisoner,  and  that  innocence  may  wish  and  dare  to 
sleep  soundly."" 

"  Ask  no  questions  of  me/'  said  the  voice,  "  neither  at- 
tempt to  discover  who  speaks  to  you  ;  and  be  assured  that  folly 
alone  can  sleep,  with  fraud  around  and  danger  before  him.'' 

"  Can  you,  who  tell  me  of  dangers,  counsel  me  how  to 
combat  or  how  to  avoid  them  ?  "  said  Julian. 

**  My  power  is  limited,"  said  the  voice  ;  "  yet  something  I 
can  do,  as  a  glow-worm  can  show  a  precipice.  But  you 
must  confide  in  me." 

"Confidence  must  beget  confidence,"  answered  Julian. 
**  I  cannot  repose  trust  in  J  know  not  what  or  whom." 

"  Speak  not  so  loud,"  replied  the  voice,  sinking  almost 
into  a  whis;per. 

'*  Last  night  you  said  my  companion  would  not  awake," 
said  Julian. 

**  To-night  I  warrant  not  that  he  shall  sleep,"  said  the 
voice.  And  as  it  spoke,  the  hoarse,  snatching,  discordant 
tones  of  the  dwarf  were  heard,  demanding  of  Julian  why  he 
talked  in  his  sleep  ;  wherefore  he  did  not  rest  himself,  and 
let  other  people  rest ;  and,  finally,  whether  his  visions  of 
last  night  were  returned  upon  him  again  ? 

'*  Say  *  yes,'"  said  the  voice,  in  a  whisper  so  low,  yet  so 
distinct,  that  Julian  almost  doubted  whether  it  was  not  an 
echo  of  his  own  thought — * '  say  but  '  yes,'  and  I  part  to  re- 
rurn  no  more  ! " 

In  desperate  circumstances  men  look  to  strange  and 
unusual  remedies  ;  and  although  unable  to  calculate  the 
chances  of  advantage  which  this  singular  communication 
opened  to  him,  Julian  did  not  feel  inclined  to  let  them  at  once 
escape  trom  him.  He  answered  the  dwarf,  that  he  had  been 
troubled  by  an  alarming  dream. 

"  I  could  have  sworn  it,  from  the  sound  of  your  voice,"  said 
Hudson.  "  It  is  strange,  now,  that  you  overgrown  men 
never  possess  the  extreme  firmness  of  nerves  proper  to  us  who 
are  cast  in  a  more  compact  mold.  My  own  voice  retains  its 
masculine  sounds  on  all  occasions.  Dr.  Cockerel  was  of 
opinion  that  there  was  the  same  allowance  of  nerve  and  sinew 
to  men  of  every  size,  and  that  nature  spun  the  stock  out 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  411 

thinner  or  stronger,  according  to  the  extent  of  surface  which 
they  were  to  cover.  Hence,  the  least  creatures  are  often- 
times the  strongest.  Place  a  beetle  under  a  tall  candlestick, 
and  the  insect  will  move  it  by  its  efforts  to  get  out ;  which 
is,  in  point  of  comparative  strength,  as  if  one  of  us  should 
shake  nis  Majesty's  prison  of  Newgate  by  similar  struggles. 
Cats  also,  and  weasels,  are  creatures  of  greater  exertion  and 
endurance  than  dogs  or  sheep.  And  in  general  you  may 
remark  that  little  men  dance  better,  and  are  more  unwearied 
under  exertion  of  every  kind,  than  those  to  whom  their  own 
weight  must  necessarily  be  burdensome.  I  respect  you. 
Master  Peveril,  because  I  am  told  you  have  killed  one  of 
those  gigantic  fellows,  who  go  about  swaggering  as  if  their 
souls  were  taller  than  ours,  because  their  noses  are  nearer  to 
the  clouds  by  a  cubit  or  two.  But  do  not  value  yourself  on 
this,  as  anything  very  unusual.  I  would  have  you  to  know 
it  hath  been  always  thus  ;  and  that,  in  the  history  of  all  ages, 
the  clean,  tight,  dapper,  little  fellow  hath  proved  an  over- 
match for  his  bulky  antagonist.  I  need  only  instance,  out 
of  Holy  Writ,  the  celebrated  downfall  of  Goliath,  and  of 
another  lubbard,  who  had  more  fingers  to  his  hand  and  more 
inches  t  j  his  stature  than  ought  to  belong  to  an  honest  man, 
and  who  was  slain  by  a  nephew  of  good  King  David  ;  and  of 
many  others  whom  I  do  not  remember  ;  nevertheless,  they 
were  all  Philistines  of  gigantic  stature.  In  the  classics,  also, 
you  have  Tydues,  and  other  tight,  compact  heroes,  whose 
diminutive  bodies  were  the  abode  of  large  minds.  And 
indeed  you  may  observe,  in  sacred  as  well  as  profane  history, 
that  your  giants  are  ever  heretics  and  blasphemers,  robbers 
and  oppressors,  outragers  of  the  female  sex,  and  scoffers  at 
regular  authority.  Such  were  Gog  and  Magog,  whom  our 
authentic  chronicles  vouch  to  have  been  slain  near  to  Ply- 
mouth, by  the  good  little  knight  Corineus,  who  gave  name 
to  Cornwall.  Ascaparte  also  was  subdued  by  Bevis,  and 
Colbrand  by  Guy,  as  Southampton  and  Warwick  can  testify. 
Like  unto  these  was  the  giant  Hoel,  slain  in  Bretagne  by 
King  Arthur.  And  if  Ryence,  king  of  North  Wales,  who 
was  done  to  death  by  the  same  worthy  champion  of  Christ- 
endom, be  not  actually  termed  a  giant,  it  is  plain  he  was 
little  better,  since  he  required  twenty-four  kings'  beards, 
which  were  then  worn  full  and  long,  to  fur  his  gown  ;  where- 
by, computing  each  beard  at  eighteen  inches — and  you  can- 
not allow  less  for  a  beard-royal — and  supposing  only  the 
front  of  the  gown  trimmed  therewith,  as  we  use  ermine,  and 
that  the  back  was  mounted  and-  lined,  instead  of  cat-skins 


412  ^^VEBLEY  NOVELS 

and  squirrels'  lur,  with  the  beards  of  earls  and  dukes  and 

other  inferior  dignitaries,  may  amount  to But  I  will 

work  the  question  to-morrow. 

d  Nothing  is  more  soporific  to  any,  save  a  philosopher  or 
"monied  man,  than  the  operation  of  figures  ;  and  when  in 
bed  the  effect  is  irresistible.  Sir  Geofl:rey  fell  asleep  in  the 
act  of  calculating  King  Ryence^s  height  from  the  supposed 
length  of  his  mantle.  Indeed,  had  he  not  stumbled  on  this 
abstruse  subject  of  calculation,  there  is  no  guessing  how 
long  he  might  have  held  forth  upon  the  superiority  of  men 
of  little  stature,  which  was  so  great  a  favorite  with  him 
that,  numerous  as  such  narratives  are,  the  dwarf  had  col- 
lected almost  all  the  instaaces  of  their  victories  over  giants 
which  history  or  romance  afforded. 

No  sooner  had  unequivocal  signs  of  the  dwarfs  sound 
slumbers  reached  Julian's  ears  than  he  began  again  to  listen 
eagerly  for  the  renewal  of  that  mysterious  communication 
which  was  at  once  interesting  and  awful.  Even  whilst 
Hudson  was  speaking,  he  had,  instead  of  bestowing  his  at- 
tention upon  his  eulogy  on  persons  of  low  stature,  kept  his 
ears  on  watchful  guard,  to  mark,  if  possible,  the  lightest 
sounds  of  any  sort  which  might  occur  in  the  apartment ;  so 
that  he  thought  it  scarce  possible  that  even  a  fly  should  have 
left  it  without  its  motion  being  overheard.  If,  therefore, 
his  invisible  monitor  was  indeed  a  creature  of  this  world — 
an  opinion  which  Julian's  sound  sense  rendered  him  un- 
willing to  renounce — that  being  could  not  have  left  the 
apartment  ;  and  he  waited  impatiently  for  a  renewal  of  their 
communication.  He  was  disappointed  :  not  the  slightest 
sound  reached  his  ear  ;  and  the  nocturnal  visitor,  if  still  in 
the  room,  appeared  determined  on  silence. 
■^i'  It  was  in  vain  that  Peveril  coughed,  hemmed,  and  gave 
"other  symptoms  of  being  awake  ;  at  length,  such  became 
his  impatience  that  he  resolved,  at  any  risk,  to  speak  first, 
in  hopes  of  renewing  the  communication  betwixt  them. 
*^  Whoever  thou  art,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  loud  enough  to  be 
heard  by  a  waking  person,  but  not  so  high  as  to  disturb  his 
sleeping  companion—''  whoever  or  whatever  thou  art,  that 
hast  shown  some  interest  in  the  fate  of  such  a  castaway  as 
Julian  Peveril,  speak  once  more,  I  conjure  thee ;  and  be 
your  communication  for  good  or  evil,  believe  me,  I  am 
equally  prepared  to  abide  the  issue." 

No  answer  of  any  kind  was  returned  to  this  invocation  ; 
-nor  did  the  least  sound  intimate  the  presence  of  the  being 
to  whom  it  was  so  solemnly  addressed.    *  SBW  jioiid  off  J  ir 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  413 

'*  I  speak  in  vain/'  said  Julian  ;  '^  and  perhaps  I  am  but 
invoking  that  which  is  insensible  of  liuman  feeling,  or  which 
takes  a  malign  pleasure  in  human  suffering/' 

There  was  a  gentle  and  half-broken  sigh  from  a  corner  of 
the  apartment,  which,  answering  to  this  exclamation,  seemed 
to  contradict  the  imputation  which  it  conveyed. 

Julian,  naturally  courageous,  and  familiarized  by  this 
time  to  his  situation,  raised  himself  in  bed  and  stretched 
out  his  arm  to  repeat  Kls  adjuration,  when  the  voice,  as  if 
alarmed  at  his  action  ani  energy,  whispered,  in  a  tone  more 
hurried  than  that  whicK  it  had  hitherto  used,  "Be  still- 
move  not — or  I  am  mute  forever  \" 

*^  It  is  then  a  mortal  being  who  is  present  with  me,"  was 
the  natural  inference  of  Julian,  "  and  one  who  is  probably 
afraid  of  being  detected  ;  I  have  then  some  power  over  my 
visitor,  though  I  must  be  cautious  how  I  use  it.  If  your 
intents  are  friendly,''  ho  proceeded,  "  there  was  never  a 
in  which  I  lacked  friends  more,  or  would  be  more  grateful 
for  kindness.  The  fate  of  all  who  are  dear  to  me  is  weighed 
in  the  balance,  and  with  worlds  would  I  buy  the  tidings  of 
their  safety." 

"I  have  said  my  power  is  limited,"  replied  the  voice. 
"  You  I  may  be  able  to  preserve  ;  the  fate  of  your  friends 
is  beyond  my  control." 

"  Let  me  at  least  know  it,"  said  Julian  ;  "  and,  be  it  as 
it  may,  I  will  not  shun  to  share  it." 

"  For  whom  would  you  inquire  ? "  said  the  soft,  sweet 
voice,  not  without  a  tremulousness  of  accent,  as  if  the  ques- 
tion was  put  with  diffident  reluctance. 

"My  parents,"  said  Julian,  after  a  moment's  hesitation  ; 
''how  fare  they  ?     What  will  be  their  fate  ?" 

'*  They  fare  as  the  fort  under  which  the  enemy  has  dug  a 
deadly  mine.  The  work  may  have  cost  the  labor  of  years, 
such  were  the  impediments  to  the  engineers ;  but  time 
brings  opportunity  upon  its  wings."         *  iioiibooid  r. 

"  And  what  will  be  the  event  ?"  said  Peveril. ,     -  ;,;: 

"  Can  I  read  the  future,"  answered  the  voice,  ''save  by 
comparison  with  the  past  ?  Who  has  been  hunted  on  these 
stern  and  unmitigable  accusations,  but  has  been  at  last 
brought  to  bay  ?  Did  high  and  noble  birth,  honored  age, 
and  approved  benevolence  save  the  unfortunate  Lord 
Stafford  ?  Did  learning,  capacity  of  intrigue,  or  high 
court  favor  redeem  Coleman,  although  the  confidential 
servant  of  the  heir  presumptive  of  the  crown  of  England  ? 
Did  Bubtilty  and  genius,  and  the  exertions  of  a  numerous 


414  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

sect,  save  Fenwicke,  or  Whitbread,  or  any  other  of  the  ac- 
cused priests  ?  Were  Groves,  Pickering,  or  the  other  humble 
wretches  who  have  suffered,  safe  in  their  obscurity  ?  There 
is  no  condition  in  life,  no  degree  of  talent,  no  form  of 
principle,  which  affords  protection  against  an  accusation 
which  levels  conditions,  confounds  characters,  renders  men's 
virtues  their  sins,  and  rates  them  as  dangerous  in  propor- 
tion as  they  have  influence,  though  attained  in  the  noblest 
manner,  and  used  for  the  best  purposes.  Call  such  a  one 
but  an  accessary  to  the  Plot,  let  him  be  mouthed  in  the  evi- 
dence of  Gates  or  Dugdale,  and  the  blindest  shall  foresee 
the  issue  of  their  trial/' 

''  Prophet  of  evil ! ''  said  Julian,  "  my  father  has  a  shield 
invulnerable  to  protect  him.     He  is  innocent." 

"  Let  him  plead  his  innocence  at  the  bar  of  Heaven,'' said 
the  voice  ;  "it  will  serve  him  little  where  Scroggs  presided.'' 

"  Still  I  fear  not,"  said  Julian,    counterfeiting  more  con- 
fidence than  he  really  possessed  ;  "  my  father's  cause  will  be  . 
pleaded  before  twelve  Englishmen." 

'*  Better  before  twelve  wild  beasts  "  answered  the  Invisible, 
**  than  before  Englishmen  influenced  with  party  prejudice, 
passion,  and  the  epidemic,  terror  of  an  imaginary  danger. 
They  are  bold  in  guilt  in  proportion  to  the  number  amongst 
whom  the  crime  is  divided." 

'^  Ill-omened  speaker,"  said  Julian,  *'  thine  is  indeed  a 
voice  fitted  only  to  sound  with  the  midnight  bell  and  the 
screech-owl.  Yet  speak  again.  Tell  me,  if  thou  canst,"  he 
would  have  said,  "  of  Alice  Bridgenorth,"  but  the  word 
would  not  leave  his  tongue — ''tell  me,"  he  said,  ''of  the 
noble  house  of  Derby— - — " 

"  Let  them  keep  their  rock  like  the  sea-fowl  in  the  tem- 
pest, and  it  may  so  fallout,"  answered  the  voice,  "that  their 
rock  may  be  a  safe  refuge.  But  there  is  blood  on  their  , 
ermine  ;  and  revenge  has  dogged  them  for  many  a  year,  like  \; 
a  bloodhound  that  "hath  been  distanced  in  the  morning  chase, 
but  may  yet  grapple  the  quarry  ere  the  sun  shall  set.  At 
present,  however,  they  are  safe.  Am  I  now  to  speak  farther 
on  your  own  affairs,  which  involve  little  short  of  your  life  and 
honor,  or  are  there  yet  any  whose  interests  you  prefer  to 
your  own  ?  " 

"  There  is,'*  said  Julian,  "  one,  from  whom  I  was  violently 
parted  yesterday  ;  if  I  knew  but  of  her  safety,  I  were  little 
anxious  for  my  own." 

"  Gne  ! "  returned  the  voice,  "  only  one  from  whom  yon 
were  parted  yesterday  ?  "  ;  (ja  itid 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  4U 

"  But  in  parting  from  whom/'  said  Julian,  '*  I  felt  sepa- 
rated from  all  happiness  which  the  world  can  give  me." 

'^  You  mean  Alice  Bridgenorth/'  said  the  Invisible,  with 
some  bitterness  of  accent;  *'but  her  you  will  never  see 
more.  Your  own  life  and  hers  depend  on  your  forgetting 
each  other." 

"  I  cannot  purchase  my  own  life  at  that  price,"  replied 
Julian. 

**  Then  die  in  your  obstinacy,"  returned  the  Invisible ; 
nor  to  all  the  entreaties  which  he  used  was  he  able  to  obtain 
another  word  in  the  course  of  that  remarkable  night. 


J 


.   CHAPTER  XXXVI 

A  short-hough'd.  man,  but  full  of  pride. 

Allan  Ramsay. 

TfiE  blood  of  Julian  Peveril  was  so  much  fevered  by  the 
state  in  which  his  invisible  visitor  left  him,  that  he  was  un- 
able, for  a  length  of  time,  to  find  repose.  He  swore  to  him- 
self that  he  would  discover  and  expose  the  nocturnal  demon 
which  stole  on  his  hours  of  rest  only  to  add  gall  to  bitter- 
ness, and  to  pour  poison  into  those  wounds  which  already 
smarted  so  severely.  There  was  nothing  which  his  power 
extended  to  that,  in  his  rage,  he  did  not  threaten.  He  pro- 
posed a  closer  and  more  rigorous  survey  of  his  cell,  so  that 
he  might  discover  the  mode  by  which  his  tormentor  entered, 
were  it  as  unnoticeable  as  an  auger-hole.  If  his  diligence 
should  prove  unavailing,  he  determined  to  inform  the  jailers, 
to  whom  it  could  not  be  indifferent  to  know  that  their  prison 
was  open  to  such  intrusions.  He  proposed  to  himself  to  dis- 
cover from  their  looks  whether  they  were  already  privy  to 
these  visits  ;  and  if  so,  to  denounce  them  to  the  magistrates, 
to  the  judges,  to  the  House  of  Commons,  was  tlie  least  that 
his  resentment  proposed.  Sleep  surprised  his  worn-out  frame 
in  the  midst  of  his  projects  of  discovery  and  vengeance,  and 
as  frequently  happens,  the  light  of  the  ensuing  day  proved 
favorable  to  calmer  resolutions. 

He  now  reflected  that  he  had  no  ground  to  consider  the 
motives  of  his  visitor  as  positively  malevolent,  although  he 
had  afforded  him  little  encouragement  to  hope  for  assistance 
on  the  points  he  had  most  at  heart.  Towards  himself  there 
had  been  expressed  a  decided  feeling  both  of  sympathy  and 
interest  ;  if  through  means  of  these  he  could  acquire  his 
liberty,  he  might,  when  possessed  of  freedom,  turn  it  to  the 
benefit  of  those  for  whom  he  was  more  interested  than  for 
his  own  welfare.  ''  I  have  behaved  like  a  fool,^*  he  said  ;  *'I 
ought  to  have  temporized  with  this  singular  being,  learned 
the  motives  of  its  interference,  and  availed  myself  of  its  suc- 
cor, provided  I  could  do  so  without  any  dishonorable  con- 
ditions. It  would  have  been  always  time  enough  to  reject 
such  when  they  should  have  been  proposed  to  me." 

416 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  4l7 

So  saying,  he  was  forming  projects  for  regulating  his  in- 
tercourse with  the  stranger  more  prudently,  in  case  their 
communication  should  be  renewed,  when  his  meditations 
were  interrupted  by  the  peremptory  summons  of  Sir  Geoffrey 
Hudson,  that  he  would,  in  his  turn,  be  pleased  to  perform 
those  domestic  duties  of  their  common  habitation  which  the 
dwarf  had  yesterday  taken  upon  himself. 

There  was  no  resisting  a  request  so  reasonable,  and  Peveril 
accordingly  rose  and  betook  himself  to  the  arrangement  of 
their  prison  ;  while  Sir  Hudson,  perched  upon  a  stool  from 
which  his  legs  did  not  by  half  way  reach  the  ground,  sat 
in  a  posture  of  elegant  languor,  twangling  upon  an  old 
broken-winded  guitar,  and  singing  songs  in  Spanish,  Moor- 
ish, and  Lingua  Franca,  most  detestably  out  of  tune.  He 
failed  not,  at  the  conclusion  of  each  ditty,  to  favor  Julian 
with  some  account  of  what  he  had  sung,  either  in  the  way  of 
translation  or  historical  anecdote,  or  as  the  lay  was  con- 
nected with  some  peculiar  part  of  his  own  eventful  history, 
in  the  course  of  which  the  poor  little  man  had  chanced  to 
have  been  taken  by  a  Sallee  rover  and  carried  captive  into 
Morocco. 

This  part  of  his  life  Hudson  used  to  make  the  era  of  many 
strange  adventures ;  and,  if  he  could  himself  be  believed,  he 
had  made  wild  work  amongst  the  affections  of  the  emperor's 
seraglio.  But,  although  few  were  in  a  situation  to  cross- 
examine  him  on  gallantries  and  intrigues  of  which  the  scene 
was  so  remote,  the  officers  of  the  garrison  of  Tangier  had  a 
report  current  amongst  them,  that  the  only  use  to  which  the 
tyrannical  Moors  could  convert  a  slave  of  such  slender  cor- 
poreal strength  was  to  employ  him  to  lie  a-bed  all  day  and 
hatch  turkey's  eggs.  The  least  allusion  to  this  rumor  used 
to  drive  him  wellnigh  frantic,  and  the  fatal  termination  of  his 
duel  with  young  Crofts,  which  began  in  wanton  mirth  and 
ended  in  bloodshed,  made  men  more  coy  than  they  had  for- 
merly been  of  making  the  fiery  little  hero  the  subject  of 
their  raillery. 

While  Peveril  did  the  drudgery  of  the  apartment,  the 
dwarf  remained  much  at  his  ease,  carolling  in  the  manner 
we  have  described  ;  but  when  he  beheld  Julian  attempting 
the  task  of  the  cook.  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson  sprung  from  the 
stool  on  which  he  sat  en  signor,  at  the  risk  of  breaking  both 
his  guitar  and  his  neck,  exclaiming,  ^'  That  he  would  rather 
prepare  breakfast  every  morning  betwixt  this  and  the  day 
of  judgment  than  commit  a  task  of  such  consequence  to  an 
inexperienced  bungler  like  his  companion/' 


418  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

The  young  man  gladly  resigned  his  task  to  the  splenetic 
little  knight,  and  only  smiled  at  his  resentment  when  he 
added  that,  to  be  but  a  mortal  of  middle  stature,  Julian  was 
as  stupid  as  a  giant.  Leaving  the  dwarf  to  prepare  the  meal 
after  his  own  pleasure,  Peveril  employed  himself  in  measuring 
the  room  with  his  eyes  on  every  side,  and  in  endeavoring  to 
discover  some  private  entrance,  such  as  might  admit  his  mid- 
night visitant,  and  perhaps  could  be  employed  in  case  of 
need  for  effecting  his  own  escape.  The  floor  next  engaged 
a  scrutiny  equally  minute,  but  more  successful. 

Close  by  his  own  pallet,  and  dropped  in  such  a  manner 
that  he  must  have  seen  it  sooner  but  for  the  hurry  with 
which  he  obeyed  the  summons  of  the  impatient  dwarf,  lay  a 
slip  of  paper,  sealed,  and  directed  with  the  initial  letters 
*'  J.  P.,''  which  seemed  to  ascertain  that  it  was  addressed  to 
himself.  He  took  the  opportunity  of  opening  it  while  the 
soup  was  in  the  very  moment  of  projection,  and  the  full  at- 
tention of  his  companion  was  occupied  by  what  he,  in  com- 
mon with  wiser  and  taller  men,  considered  as  one  of  the 
principal  occupations  of  life  ;  so  that,  without  incurring 
his  observation  or  awaking  his  curiosity,  Julian  had  the 
opportunity  to  read  as  follows  : — 

"  Rash  and  infatuated  as  you  are,  there  is  one  who  would 
forfeit  much  to  stand  betwixt  you  and  your  fate.  You  are 
to-morrow  to  be  removed  to  the  Tower,  where  your  life  can- 
not be  assured  for  a  single  day ;  for,  during  the  few  hours 
you  have  been  in  London,  you  have  provoked  a  resentment 
which  is  not  easily  slaked.  There  is  but  one  chance  for  you  : 
renounce  A.  B.,  think  no  more  of  her.  If  that  be  impossi- 
ble, think  of  her  but  as  one  whom  you  can  never  see  again. 
If  your  heart  can  resolve  to  give  up  an  attachment  which  it 
should  never  have  entertained,  and  which  it  would  be  mad- 
ness to  cherish  longer,  make  your  acquiescence  in  this  condi- 
tion known  by  putting  on  your  hat  a  white  band,  or  white 
feather,  or  knot  of  ribbon  of  the  same  color,  v>^hichever  you 
may  most  easily  come  by.  A  boat  will,  in  that  case,  run,  as 
if  by  accident,  on  board  of  that  which  is  to  convey  you  to 
the  Tower.  Do  you  in  the  confusion  jump  overboard,  and 
swim  to  the  Southwark  side  of  the  Thames.  Friends  will 
attend  there  to  secure  your  escape,  and  you  will  find  your- 
self with  one  who  will  rather  lose  character  and  life  than 
that  a  hair  of  your  head  should  fall  to  the  ground,  but  who, 
if  you  reject  the  warning  can  only  think  of  you  as  of  the  fool 
who  perishes  in  his  folly.     May  Heaven  guide  you  to  a  sound 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  419 

judgment  of  your  condition  I    So  prays  one  who  would  be 
your  friend,  if  you  pleased, 

"Ukknowk/' 

The  Tower  !  it  was  a  word  of  terror,  even  more  so  than  a 
civil  prison  ;  for  how  many  passages  to  death  did  that  dark 
structure  present  !  The  severe  executions  which  it  had 
witnessed  in  preceding  reigns  were  not  perhaps  more  numer- 
ous than  the  secret  murders  which  had  taken  place  within 
its  walls  ;  yet  Peveril  did  not  a  moment  hesitate  on  the  part 
which  he  had  to  perform.  "  I  will  share  my  father's  fate," 
he  said;  "I  thought  but  of  him  when  they  brought  me 
hither  ;  I  will  think  of  nothing  else  when  they  convey  me  to 
yonder  still  more  dreadful  place  of  confinement ;  it  is  his, 
and  it  is  but  meet  that  it  should  be  his  son's.  And  thou, 
Alice  Bridgenorth,  the  day  that  I  renounce  thee,  may  I  be 
held  alike  a  traitor  and  a  dastard  !  Go,  false  adviser,  and 
share  the  fate  of  seducers  and  heretical  teachers  ! " 

He  could  not  help  uttering  this  last  expression  aloud,  as 
he  threw  the  billet  into  the  fire,  with  a  vehemence  which 
made  the  dwarf  start  with  surprise.  '^  What  say  you  of 
burning  heretics,  young  man  ?'^  he  exclaimed  ;  *^by  my 
faith,  your  zeal  must  be  warmer  than  mine,  if  you  talk  on 
such  a  subject  when  the  heretics  are  the  prevailing  number. 
May  I  measure  six  feet  without  my  shoes,  but  the  heretics 
would  have  the  best  of  it  if  we  came  to  that  work.  Beware 
of  such  words.'' 

'*  Too  late  to  beware  of  words  spoken  and  heard,"  said  the 
turnkey,  who,  opening  the  door  with  unusual  precautions  to 
avoid  noise,  had  stolen  unperceived  into  the  room  ;  "  how- 
ever. Master  Peveril  has  behaved  like  a  gentleman,  and  I  am 
no  talebearer,  on  condition  he  will  consider  I  have  had 
trouble  in  his  matters." 

Julian  had  no  alternative  but  to  take  the  fellow's  hint  and 
administer  a  bribe,  with  which  Master  Clink  was  so  well 
satisfied  that  he  exclaimed,  ''  It  went  to  his  heart  to  take 
leave  of  such  a  kind-natured  gentleman,  and  that  he  could 
have  turned  the  key  on  him  for  twenty  years  with  pleasure. 
But  the  best  friends  must  part." 

*'  I  am  to  be  removed,  then  ?  "  said  Julian. 

'*Ay,  truly,  master,  the  warrant  is  come  from  th«5 
council." 

''  To  convey  me  to  the  Tower  ?" 

^'^  Whew  !"  exclaimed  the  ofiicer  of  the  law,  ''who  the 
devil  told  you  that  ?    But  since  you  do  know  it,  there  is  no 


420  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

harm  to  say  '  Ay/  So  make  yourself  ready  to  move  imme- 
diately ;  and  first,  hold  out  your  dew-beaters  till  I  take  ofE 
the  darbies." 

"  Is  that  usual  ?  "  said  Peveril,  stretching  out  his  feet  as 
the  fellow  directed,  while  his  fetters  were  unlocked. 

"  Why,  ay,  master,  these  fetters  belong  to  the  keeper ; 
they  are  not  a-going  to  send  them  to  the  lieutenant,  I  trow. 
No — no,  the  warders  must  bring  their  own  gear  with  them ; 
they  get  none  here,  I  promise  them.  Nevertheless,  if  your 
honor  hath  a  fancy  to  go  in  fetters,  as  thinking  it  may  move 
compassion  of  your  case " 

"  I  have  no  intention  to  make  my  case  seem  worse  than  it 
is,"  said  Julian,  whilst  at  the  same  time  it  crossed  his  mind 
that  his  anonymous  correspondent  must  be  well  acquainted 
both  with  his  own  personal  habits,  since  the  letter  proposed 
a  plan  of  escape  which  could  only  be  executed  by  a  bold 
swimmer,  and  with  the  fashions  of  the  prison,  since  it  was 
foreseen  thst  he  would  not  be  ironed  on  his  passage  to  the 
Tower.  The  turnkey's  next  speech  made  him  carry  conjec- 
ture still  farther. 

"  There  is  nothing  in  life  I  would  not  do  for  so  brave  a 
guest,"  said  Clink  ;  ''  I  could  nab  one  of  my  wife's  ribbons 
for  you,  if  your  honor  had  the  fancy  to  mount  the  white 
flag  in  your  beaver." 

'*To  what  good  purpose  ?"  said  Julian,  shortly,  connect- 
ing, as  was  natural,  the  man's  proposed  civility  with  the 
advice  given  and  the  signal  prescribed  in  the  letter. 

*'  Nay,  to  no  good  purpose  I  know  of,"  said  the  turnkey  ; 
"  only  it  is  the  fashion  to  seem  white  and  harmless — a  sort 
of  token  of  not-guiltiness,  as  I  may  say,  which  folks  desire 
to  show  the  world  whether  they  be  truly  guilty  or  not ;  but 
I  cannot  say  that  guiltiness  or  not  guiltiness  argufies  much, 
saving  they  be  words  in  the  vardict." 

*'  Strange,"  thought  Peveril,  although  the  man  seemed  to 
speak  quite  naturally,  and  without  any  double  meaning — 
*' strange  that  all  should  apparently  combine  to  realize  the 
plan  of  escape,  could  I  but  give  my  consent  to  it !  And  had 
I  not  better  consent  ?  Whoever  does  so  much  for  me  must 
wish  me  well,  and  a  well-wisher  would  never  enforce  the 
unjust  conditions  on  which  I  am  required  to  consent  to  my 
liberation." 

But  this  misgiving  of  his  resolution  was  but  for  a  moment. 
He  speedily  recollected  that  whoever  aided  him  in  escaping 
must  be  necessarily  exposed  to  great  risk,  and  had  a  right  to 
name  the  stipulation  on  which  he  was  willing  to  incur  it. 


1 


•The  parting  was   not  without   emotion  on   both  sides.'* 


•,-  i      c 


1 


PEVEEIL  OF  THE  PEAK  421 

He  also  recollected  that  falsehood  is  equally  base,  whether 
expressed  in  words  or  in  dumb  show  ;  and  that  he  should  lie 
as  flatly  by  using  the  signal  agreed  upon  in  evidence  of  his 
renouncing  Alice  Bridgenorth  as  he  would  in  direct  terms 
if  he  made  such  renunciation  without  the  purpose  of  abiding 
by  it. 

''  If  you  would  oblige  me/'  he  said  to  the  turnkey,  "  let 
me  have  a  piece  of  black  silk  crape  for  the  purpose  you 
mention/^ 

^'  Of  crape,''  said  the  fellow  ;  *'  what  should  that  signify  ? 
Why,  the  bien  morts,  who  bing  out  to  tour  at  you,*  will 
think  you  a  chimney-sweeper  on  May-day." 

"  It  will  show  my  settled  sorrow,"  said  Julian,  '*  as  well 
as  my  determined  resolution." 

^'^  As  you  will,  sir,"  answered  the  fellow.  "I'll  provide 
you  with  a  black  rag  of  some  kind  or  other.  So,  now,  let 
us  be  moving." 

Julian  intimated  his  readiness  to  attend  him,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  bid  farewell  to  his  late  companion,  the  stout 
Geoffrey  Hudson.  The  parting  was  not  without  emotion  on 
both  sides,  more  particularly  on  that  of  the  poor  little  man, 
who  had  taken  a  particular  liking  to  the  companion  of  whom 
he  was  now  about  to  be  deprived.  "  Fare  ye  well,"  he  said, 
*'  my  young  friend,"  taking  Julian's  hand  in  both  his  own 
uplifted  palms,  in  which  action  he  somewhat  resembled  the 
attitude  of  a  sailor  pulling  a  rope  overhead.  "  Many  a  one 
in  my  situation  would  think  himself  wronged,  as  a  soldier 
and  servant  of  the  King's  chamber,  in  seeing  you  removed 
to  a  more  honorable  prison  than  that  which  I  am  limited 
unto.  But,  I  thank  God,  I  grudge  you  not  the  Tower,  nor 
the  rocks  of  Scilly,  nor  even  Carisbrooke  Castle,  though  the 
latter  was  graced  with  the  captivity  of  my  blessed  and 
martyred  master.  Go  where  you  will,  I  wish  you  all  the 
distinction  of  an  honorable  prison-house,  and  a  safe  and 
speedy  deliverance  in  God's  own  time.  For  myself,  my  race 
is  near  a  close,  and  that  because  I  fall  a  martyr  to  the  over- 
tenderness  of  my  own  heart.  There  is  a  circumstance,  good 
Master  Julian  Peveril,  which  should  have  been  yours,  had 
Providence  permitted  our  farther  intimacy,  but  it  fits  not 
the  present  hour.  Go  then,  my  friend,  and  bear  witness  in 
life  and  death  that  Geoffrey  Hudson  scorns  the  insults  and 
persecutions  of  fortune,  as  he  would  despise,  and  has  often 
despised,  the  mischievous  pranks  of  an  overgrown  school- 
boy." 

*  The  smart  girls,  who  turn  out  to  look  at  you. 


422  WAVEBL^Y  NOVELS 

So  saying,  he  turned  away  and  hid  his  face  with  his  little 
handkerchief,  while  Julian  felt  towards  him  that  tragi-comic 
sensation  which  makes  us  pity  the  object  which  excites  it 
not  the  less  that  we  are  somewhat  inclined  to  laugh  amid 
our  sympathy.  The  jailer  made  him  a  signal,  which  Peveril 
obeyed,  leaving  the  dwarf  to  disconsolate  solitude. 

As  Julian  followed  the  keeper  through  the  various  wind- 
ings of  this  penal  labyrinth,  the  man  observed,  that  ^ '  He 
was  a  rum  fellow,  that  little  Sir  Geoffrey,  and,  for  gallantry, 
a  perfect  cock  of  Bantam,  for  as  old  as  he  was.  There  was 
a  certain  gay  wench,''  he  said,  ''that  had  hooked  him  ;  but 
what  she  could  make  of  him,  save  she  carried  him  to  Smith- 
field  and  took  money  for  him,  as  for  a  motion  of  puppets,  it 
was,''  he  said,  '^  hard  to  gather." 

Encouraged  by  this  opening,  Julian  asked  if  his  attendant 
knew  why  his  prison  was  changed.  "To  teach  you  to 
become  a  king's  post  without  commission,"  answered  the 
fellow. 

He  stopped  in  his  tattle  as  they  approached  that  formi- 
dable central  point,  in  which  lay  couched  on  his  leathern 
elbow-chair  the  fat  commander  of  the  fortress,  stationed 
apparently  forever  in  the  midst  of  his  citadel,  as  the  huge 
boa  is  sometimes  said  to  lie  stretched  as  a  guard  upon  the 
subterranean  treasures  of  Eastern  rajahs.  This  overgrown 
man  of  authority  eyed  Julian  wistfully  and  sullenly,  as  the 
miser  the  guinea  which  he  must  part  with,  or  the  hungry 
mastiff  the  food  which  is  carried  to  another  kennel.  He 
growled  to  himself  as  he  turned  the  leaves  of  his  ominous 
register,  in  order  to  make  the  necessary  entry  respecting  the 
removal  of  his  prisoner.  '^  To  the  Tower — to  the  Tower  ; 
ay,  ay,  all  must  to  the  Tower — that's  the  fashion  of  it ;  free 
Britons  to  a  military  prison,  as  if  we  had  neither  bolts  nor 
chains  here  !  I  hope  Parliament  will  have  it  up,  this  Tow- 
ering work,  that's  all.  Well,  the  youngster  will  take  no 
good  by  the  change,  and  that  is  one  comfort." 

Having  finished  at  once  his  official  act  of  registration  and 
his  soliloquy,  he  made  a  signal  to  his  assistants  to  remove 
Julian,  who  was  led  along  the  same  stern  passages  which  he 
had  traversed  upon  his  entrance,  to  the  gate  of  the  prison, 
whence  a  coach,  escorted  by  two  officers  of  justice,  conveyed 
him  to  the  water-side. 

A  boat  here  waited  him,  with  four  warders  of  the  Tower, 
to  whose  custody  he  was  formally  resigned  by  his  late 
attendants.  Clink,  however,  the  turnkey,  with  whom  he 
was  more  especially  acquainted^  did  not  take  leave  of  him 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  423 

without  furnishing  him  with  the  piece  of  black  crape  which 
he  requested.  Peveril  fixed  it  on  his  hat  amid  the  whispers 
of  his  new  guardians.  *'  The  gentleman  is  in  a  hurry  to  go 
into  mourning/'  said  one  ;  **  mayhap  he  had  better  wait  till 
.he  has  cause. 

'^  Perhaps  others  may  wear  mourning  for  him  ere  he  can 
mourn  for  any  one/'  answered  another  of  these  function- 
aries. 

Yet,  notwithstanding  the  tenor  of  these  whispers,  their 
behavior  to  their  prisoner  was  more  respectful  than  he  had 
experienced  from  his  former  keepers,  and  might  be  termed 
a  sullen  civility.  The  ordinary  officers  of  the  law  were  in 
general  rude,  as  having  to  do  with  felons  of  every  descrip- 
tion ;  whereas  these  men  were  only  employed  with  persons 
accused  of  state  crimes — men  who  were  from  birth  and 
circumstances  usually  entitled  to  expect,  and  able  to  reward, 
decent  usage. 

The  change  of  keepers  passed  unnoticed  by  Julian,  as  did 
the  gay  and  busy  scene  presented  by  the  broad  and  beautiful 
river  on  which  he  was  now  launched.  A  hundred  boats 
shot  past  them,  bearing  parties  intent  on  business  or  on 
pleasure.  Julian  only  viewed  them  with  the  stern  hope  that 
whoever  had  endeavored  to  bribe  him  from  his  fidelity  by 
the  hope  of  freedom  might  see,  from  the  color  of  the  badge 
which  he  had  assumed,  how  determined  he  was  to  resist  the 
temptation  presented  to  him. 

It  was  about  high  water,  and  a  stout  wherry  came  up  the 
river,  with  sail  and  oar,  so  directly  upon  that  in  which 
Julian  was  embarked  that  it  seemed  as  if  likely  to  run  her 
aboard.  ^'  Get  your  carabines  ready,''  cried  the  principal 
warder  to  his  assistants.  ''What  the  devil  can  these 
scoundrels  mean  ?" 

But  the  crew  in  the  other  boat  seemed  to  have  perceived 
their  error,  for  they  suddenly  altered  their  course  and  struck 
off  into  the  middle  stream,  while  a  torrent  of  mutual  abuse 
was  exchanged  betwixt  them  and  the  boat  whose  course  they 
had  threatened  to  impede. 

"  The  Unknown  has  kept  his  faith,"  said  Julian  to  him- 
self ;  "  I  too  have  kept  mine." 

It  even  seemed  to  him,  as  the  boats  neared  each  other, 
that  he  heard  from  the  other  wherry  something  like  a  stifled 
scream  or  groan  ;  and  when  the  momentary  bustle  was 
over  he  asked  the  warder  who  sat  next  him  what  boat  that 
was. 

"  Men-of-war'a-men  on  a  frolic,  I  suppose/*  answered  th^ 


424  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

warder.  ''  I  know  no  one  else  would  be  so  impudent  as  run 
foul  of  the  King's  boat ;  for  I  am  sure  the  fellow  put  the 
helm  up  on  purpose.  But  mayhap  you,  sir,  know  more  of 
the  matter  than  I  do." 

This  insinuation  effectually  prevented  Julian  from  putting 
farther  questions,  and  he  remained  silent  until  the  boat  came 
under  the  dusky  bastions  of  the  Tower.  The  tide  carried 
them  up  under  a  dark  and  lowering  arch,  closed  at  the  upper 
end  by  the  well  known  Traitor's  Gate,*  formed  like  a  wicket 
of  huge  intersecting  bars  of  wood,  through  which  might  be 
seen  a  dim  and  imperfect  view  of  soldiers  and  warders  upon 
duty,  and  of  the  steep  ascending  causeway  which  leads  up 
from  the  river  into  the  interior  of  the  fortress.  By  this  gate 
— and  it  is  the  well-known  circumstance  which  assigned  its 
name — those  accused  of  state  crimes  were  usually  committed 
to  the  Tower.  The  Thames  afforded  a  secret  and  silent 
mode  of  conveyance  for  transporting  thither  such  whose 
fallen  fortunes  might  move  the  commiseration,  or  whose 
popular  qualities  might  excite  the  sympathy,  of  the  public  ; 
and  even  where  no  cause  for  especial  secrecy  existed,  the 
peace  of  the  city  was  undisturbed  by  the  tumult  attending 
the  passage  of  the  prisoner  and  his  guards  through  the  most 
frequented  streets. 

Yet  this  custom,  however  recommended  by  state  policy, 
must  have  often  struck  chill  upon  the  heart  of  the  criminal, 
who  thus,  stolen,  as  it  were,  out  of  society,  reached  the  place 
of  his  confinement  without  encountering  even  one  glance  of 
compassion  on  the  road  ;  and  as,  from  under  the  dusky  arch, 
he  landed  on  those  flinty  steps,  worn  by  many  a  footstep 
anxious  as  his  own,  against  which  the  tide  lapped  fitfully 
with  small  successive  waves,  and  thence  looked  forward  to 
the  steep  ascent  into  a  Gothic  state-prison,  and  backward 
to  such  part  of  the  river  as  the  low-browed  vault  suffered  to 
become  visible,  he  must  often  have  felt  that  he  was  leaving 
daylight,  hope,  and  life   itself  behind  him. 

While  the  warder's  challenge  was  made  and  answered, 
Peveril  endeavored  to  obtain  information  from  his  conductors 
where  he  was  likely  to  be  confined  ;  but  the  answer  was  brief 
and  general — ''  Where  the  lieutenant  should  direct.'' 

*'  Could  he  not  be  permitted  to  share  the  imprisonment  of 
his  father,  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  ? "  He  forgot  not,  on  this 
occasion,  to  add  the  surname  of  his  house. 

The  warder,  an  old  man  of  respectable  appearance,  stared, 

♦See  Fortunes  of  Nigel,  Note  85,  p.  460. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE.  PEAK  425 

as  if  at  the  extravagance  of  the  demand,  and  said  bluntly, 
»'It  is  impossible." 

'^  At  least,"  said  Peveril,  '^show  me  where  my  father  is 
confined,  that  I  may  look  upon  the  walls  which  separate  us." 

^'  Young  gentleman,  said  the  senior  warder,  shaking  his 
gray  head,  ''  I  am  sorry  for  you  ;  but  asking  questions  will 
do  you  no  service.  In  this  place  we  know  nothing  of  fathers 
and  sons." 

Yet  chance  seemed,  in  a  few  minutes  afterwards,  to  offer 
Peveril  that  satisfaction  which  the  rigor  of  his  keepers  was 
disposed  to  deny  to  him.  As  he  was  conveyed  up  the  steep 
passage  which  leads  under  what  is  called  the  Wakefield 
Tower,  a  female  voice,  in  a  tone  wherein  grief  and  joy  were 
indescribably  mixed,  exclaimed,  '*  My  son  ! — my  dear  son  ! " 

Even  those  who  guarded  Julian  seemed  softened  by  a  tone 
of  such  acute  feeling.  They  slackened  their  pace.  They 
almost  paused  to  permit  him  to  look  up  towards  the  casement 
from  which  the  sounds  of  maternal  agony  proceeded  ;  but 
the  aperture  was  so  narrow,  and  so  closely  grated,  that 
nothing  was  visible  save  a  white  female  hand,  which  grasped 
one  of  those  rusty  barricadoes,  as  if  for  supporting  the  person 
within,  while  another  streamed  a  white  handkerchief,  and 
then  let  it  fall.     The  casement  was  instantly  deserted. 

"  Give  it  me,"  said  Julian  to  the  officer  who  lifted  the 
handkerchief  ;  "  it  is  perhaps  a  mother^s  last  gift." 

The  old  warder  lifted  the  napkin,  and  looked  at  it  with 
the  jealous  minuteness  of  one  who  is  accustomed  to  detect 
secret  correspondence  in  the  most  trifling  acts  of  intercourse. 

'^  There  may  be  writing  on  it  with  invisible  ink,"  said  one 
of  his  comrades. 

'^  It  is  wetted,  but  I  think  it  is  only  with  tears,"  answered 
the  senior.  *'  I  cannot  keep  it  from  the  poor  young  gentle- 
man." 

''  Ah,  Master  Coleby,"  said  his  comrade,  in  a  gentle  tone 
of  reproach,  "  you  would  have  been  wearing  a  better  coat 
than  a  yeoman^s  to-day  had  it  not  been  for  your  tender 
heart." 

'*  It  signifies  little,"  said  old  Coleby,  ''  while  my  heart  is 
true  to  my  king,  what  I  feel  in  discharging  my  duty,  or 
what  coat  keeps  my  old  bosom  from  the  cold  weather." 

Peveril,  meanwhile,  folded  in  his  breast  the  token  of  his 
mother's  affection  which  chance  had  favored  him  with  ;  and 
when  placed  in  the  small  and  solitary  chamber  which  he  was 
told  to  consider  as  his  own  during  his  residence  in  the  Tower, 
he  was  soothed  even  to  weeping  by  this  trifling  circumstance. 


426 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


which  he  conld  not  help  considering  as  an  omen  that  his 
unfortunate  house  was  not  entirely  deserted  by  Providence. 
But  the  thoughts  and  occurrences  of  a  prison    are   too 
uniform  for  a  narrative,  and  we  must  now  convey  our  readers 
into  a  more  bustling  scene. 


CHAPTEE  XXXVII 

Henceforth  'tis  done-  Fortune  and  I  are  friends ; 
And  I  mui^t  live,  for  Buckingham  commends. 

Pope. 

The  spacious  mansion  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingnam,  with 
the  demesne  belonging  to  it,  originally  bore  the  name  of  York 
House,  and  occupied  a  large  portion  of  the  ground  adjacent 
to  the  Savoy. 

This  had  been  laid  out  by  the  munificence  of  his  father, 
the  favorite  of  Charles  the  First,  in  a  most  splendid  manner, 
so  as  almost  to  rival  Whitehall  itself.  But  during  the  in- 
creasing rage  for  building  new  streets,  and  the  creating  of 
almost  an  additional  town,  in  order  to  connect  London  and 
Westminster,  this  ground  had  become  of  very  great  value  ; 
and  the  second  Duke  of  Buckingham,  who  was  at  once  fond 
of  scheming  and  needy  of  money,  had  agreed  to  a  plan  laid 
before  him  by  some  adventurous  architect,  for  converting  the 
extensive  grounds  round  his  palace  into  those  streets,  lanes, 
and  courts  which  still  perpetuate  his  name  and  titles  ;  though 
those  who  live  in  Buckingham  Street,  Duke  Street,  Villiers 
Street,  or  in  Of  Alley  (for  even  that  connecting  particle  is 
locally  commemorated),  probably  think  seldom  of  the  memory 
of  the  witty,  eccentric,  and  licentious  George  Villiers,  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  whose  titles  are  preserved  in  the  names  of 
their  residences  and  its  neighborhood. 

This  building  plan  the  duke  had  entered  upon  with  all  the 
eagerness  which  he  usually  attached  to  novelty.  His  gar- 
dens were  destroyed,  his  pavilions  leveled,  his  splendid 
stables  demolished,  the  whole  pomp  of  his  suburban  demesne 
laid  waste,  cumbered  with  ruins,  and  intersected  with  the 
foundations  of  new  buildings  and  cellars,  and  the  process  of 
leveling  different  lines  for  the  intended  streets.  But  the 
undertaking,  although  it  proved  afterwards  both  lucrative 
and  successful,  met  with  a  check  at  the  outset,  partly  from 
want  of  the  necesssary  funds,  partly  from  the  impatient  and 
mercurial  temper  of  the  duke,  which  soon  carried  him  off  in 
pursuit  of  some  more  new  object ;  so  that,  though  much  was 
demolished,  very  little  in  comparison,  was  reared  up  in  the 

437 


^28  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

stead,  and  nothing  was  completed.  The  principal  part  o4 
the  ducal  mansion  still  remained  uninjured  ;  but  the  demesne 
in  which  it  stood  bore  a  strange  analogy  to  the  irregular 
mind  of  its  noble  owner.  Here  stood  a  beautiful  group  of 
exotic  trees  and  shrubs,  the  remnant  of  the  garden,  amid 
yawning  common  sewers  and  heaps  of  rubbish.  In  one  place 
an  old  tower  threatened  to  fall  upon  the  spectator  and  in 
another  he  ran  the  risk  of  being  swallowed  up  by  a  modern 
vault.  Grandeur  of  conception  could  be 'discovered  in  the 
undertaking,  but  was  almost  everywhere  marred  by  poverty 
or  negligence  of  execution.  In  short,  the  whole  place  was 
the  true  emblem  of  an  understanding  and  talent  run  to  waste, 
and  become  more  dangerous  than  advantageous  to  society, 
by  the  want  of  steady  principle  and  the  improvidence  of  the 
possessor. 

There  were  men  who  took  a  different  view  of  the  duke's 
purpose  in  permitting  his  mansion  to  be  thus  surrounded,  and 
his  demesne  occupied  by  modern  buildings  which  were  incom- 
plete, and  ancient  which  were  but  half  demolished.  They 
alleged  that,  engaged  as  he  was  in  so  many  mysteries  of  love 
and  of  politics,  and  having  the  character  of  the  most  daring 
and  dangerous  intriguer  of  his  time,  his  grace  found  it  con- 
venient to  surround  himself  with  this  ruinous  arena,  into 
which  ofl&cers  of  justice  could  not  penetrate  without  some  dif- 
ficulty and  hazard  ;  and  which  might  afford,  upon  occasion,  a 
safe  and  secret  shelter  for  such  tools  as  were  fit  for  desperate 
enterprises,  and  a  private  and  unobserved  mode  of  access  to 
those  whom  he  might  have  any  special  reason  for  receiving 
in  secret. 

Leaving  Peveril  in  the  Tower,  we  must  once  more  convey 
our  readers  to  the  levee  of  the  duke,  who,  on  the  morning  of 
Julian's  transference  to  that  fortress,  thus  addressed  his 
minister-in-chief  and  principal  attendant  : — ^^  I  have  been  so 
pleased  with  your  conduct  in  this  matter,  Jerningham,  that 
if  Old  Kick  were  to  arise  in  our  presence,  and  offer  me  his 
best  imp  as  a  familiar  in  thy  room,  I  would  hold  it  but  a 
poor  compliment.'' 

*'  A  legion  of  imps,"  said  Jerningham,  bowing, ''  could  not 
have  been  more  busy  than  I  in  your  Grace's  service  ;  but  if 
your  Grace  will  permit  me  to  say  so,  your  whole  plan  was 
wellnigh  marred  by  your  not  returning  home  till  the  last 
night,  or  rather  this  morning." 

"  And  why,  I  pray  you,  sage  Master  Jerningham,"  said 
his  Grace,  '*  should  I  have  returned  home  an  instant  soonex 
than  my  pleasure  and  convenience  served." 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  429 

''Nay,  my  lord  duke/*  replied  the  attendant,  ''I  know 
not ;  only  when  you  sent  us  word  by  Empson,  in  Chiffinch^s 
apartment,  to  command  us  to  make  sure  of  the  girl  at  any 
rate,  and  at  all  risks,  you  said  you  would  be  here  so  soon  as 
you  could  get  freed  of  the  King/* 

'^  Freed  of  the  King,  you  rascal  !  What  sort  of  phrase  is 
that  ?  '*  demanded  the  duke. 

'^It  was  Empson  who  used  it,  my  lord,  as  coming  from 
your  Grace/* 

''  There  is  much,  very  fit  for  my  Grace  to  say,  that  mis- 
becomes such  mouths  as  Empson*s  or  yours  to  repeat,"* 
answered  the  duke,  haughtily,  but  instantly  resumed  his 
tone  of  familiarity,  for  his  humor  was  as  capricious  as  his 
pursuits.  But  I  know  what  thou  wouldst  have  ;  first,  your 
wisdom  would  know  what  became  of  me  since  thou  hadst 
my  commands  at  Chiffinch*s  ;  and  next  your  valor  would 
fain  sound  another  flourish  of  trumpets  on  thine  own  most 
artificial  retreat,  leaving  thy  comrade  in  the  hands  of  the 
Philistines.** 

"  May  it  please  your  Grace,**  said  Jerningham,  *'  I  did  but 
retreat  for  the  preservation  of  the  baggage.** 

'^  What !  do  you  play  at  crambo  with  me  ?  **  said  the 
duke.  ''I  would  have  you  know  that  the  common  parish 
fool  should  be  whipped  were  he  to  attempt  to  pass  pun  or 
quodlibet  as  a  genuine  jest,  even  amongst  ticket-porters  and 
hackney-chairmen.  ** 

'^  And  yet  I  have  heard  your  Grace  indulge  in  the  Jeu  de 
mots,"  answered  the  attendant. 

"  Sirrah  Jerningham,*'  answered  the  patron,  '^  discard  thy 
memory,  or  keep  it  under  correction,  else  it  will  hamper  thy 
rise  in  the  world.  Thou  mayst  perchance  have  seen  me  also 
have  a  fancy  to  play  at  trap-ball,  or  to  kiss  a  serving-wench, 
or  to  guzzle  ale  and  eat  toasted  cheese  in  a  porterly  whimsy ; 
but  is  it  fitting  thou  shouldst  remember  such  follies  ?  No 
more  on*t.  Hark  you  ;  how  came  the  long  lubberly  fool, 
Jenkins,  being  a  master  of  the  noble  science  of  defense,  to 
suffer  himself  to  be  run  through  the  body  so  simply  by  a 
rustic  swain  like  this  same  Peveril  ?** 

"  Please  your  grace,  this  same  Corydon  is  no  such  novice. 
I  saw  the  onset ;  and,  except  in  one  hand,  I  never  saw  a 
sword  managed  with  such  life,  grace,  and  facility.** 

'^^  Ay,  indeed  ?**  said  the  duke,  taking  his  own  sheathed 
rapier  in  his  hand,  ^'  I  could  not  have  thought  that.  I  am 
somewhat  rusted,  and  have  need  of  breathing.  Peveril  is  a 
name  of  note.     As  well  go  to  Barns  Elms  or  behind  Montagu 


laO  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

House  with  him  as  with  another.  His  father  a  rumored 
plotter,  too.  The  public  would  have  noted  it  in  me  as  be- 
coming a  zealous  Protestant.  Needful  I  do  something  to 
maintain  my  good  name  in  the  city,  to  atone  for  non-attend- 
ance on  prayer  and  preaching.  But  your  Laertes  is  fast  in 
the  Fleet ;  and  I  suppose  his  blundering  blockhead  of  an 
antagonist  is  dead  or  dying.'' 

'*  Recovering,  my  lord,  on  the  contrary/'  replied  Jerning- 
ham  ;  *^  the  blade  fortunately  avoiding  his  vitals.'' 

"  D — n  his  vitals  ! "  answered  the  duke.  *'  Tell  him  to 
postpone  his  recovery,  or  I  will  put  him  to  death  in  earnest." 

"I  will  caution  his  surgeon,"  said  Jerningham,  ''which 
will  answer  equally  well." 

*'  Do  so  ;  and  tell  him  he  had  better  be  on  his  own  death- 
bed as  cure  his  patient  till  I  send  him  notice.  That  young 
fellow  must  be  let  loose  again  at  no  rate." 

"  There  is  little  danger,"  said  the  attendant.  '*  I  hear 
some  of  the  witnesses  have  got  their  net  flung  over  him  on 
account  of  some  matters  down  in  the  north  ;  and  that  he  is 
to  be  translated  to  the  Tower  for  that,  and  for  some"  letters 
of  the  Countess  of  Derby,  as  rumor  goes." 

''  To  the  Tower  let  him  go,  and  get  out  as  he  can,"  re- 
plied the  duke  ;  "  and  when  you  hear  he  is  fast  there,  let 
the  fencing  fellow  recover  as  fast  as  the  surgeon  and  he  can 
mutually  settle  it. 

The  duke,  having  said  this,  took  two  or  three  turns  in  the 
apartment,  and  appeared  to  be  in  deep  thought.  His  attend- 
ant waited  the  issue  of  his  meditations  at  leisure,  being  well 
aware  that  such  moods,  during  which  his  mind  was  strongly 
directed  in  one  point,  were  never  of  so  long  duration  with 
his  patron  as  to  prove  a  severe  burden  to  his  own  patience. 

Accordingly,  after  the  silence  of  seven  or  eight  minutes, 
the  duke  broke  through  it,  taking  from  the  toilette  a  large 
silk  purse,  which  seemed  full  of  gold.  "Jerningham,"  he 
said,  ''  thou  art  a  faithful  fellow,  and  it  would  be  sin  not  to 
cherish  thee.  I  beat  the  King  at  mall  on  his  bold  defiance. 
The  honor  is  enough  for  me  ;  and  thou,  my  boy,  shalt  have 
the  winnings." 

Jerningham  pocketed  the  purse  with  due  acknowledg- 
ment. 

*' Jerningham,"  his  Grace  continued,  '*  I  know  you  blame 
me  for  changing  my  plans  too  often  ;  and  on  my  soul  I  have 
heard  you  so  learned  on  the  subject  that  1  have  become  of 
your  opinion,  and  have  been  vexed  at  myself  for  two  or  three 
hours  together,  for  not  sticking  as  constantly  to  one  object 


1 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  431 

as  doubtless  I  shall  when  age  (touching  his  forehead)  shall 
make  this  same  weathercock  too  rusty  to  turn  with  the 
changing  breeze.  But  as  yet,  while  I  have  spirit  and  action, 
let  it  whirl  like  the  vane  at  the  mast-head,  which  teaches 
the  pilot  how  to  steer  his  course  ;  and  when  I  shift  mine, 
think  I  am  bound  to  follow  fortune,  and  not  to  control 
her/' 

"I  can  understand  nothing  from  all  this,  please  your 
Grace,*''  replied  Jerningham,  *'save  that  you  have  been 
pleased  to  change  some  purposed  measures,  and  think  that 
you  have  profited  by  doing  so." 

"  You  shall  judge  yourself,''  replied  the  duke.  '*  I  have 
seen  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth.  You  start.  It  is  true, 
by  Heaven  !  I  have  seen  her,  and  from  sworn  enemies  we 
have  become  sworn  friends.  The  treaty  between  such  high 
and  mighty  powers  had  some  weighty  articles  ;  besides,  I 
had  a  French  negotiator  to  deal  with  ;  so  that  you  will  al- 
low a  few  hours'  absence  was  but  a  necessary  interval  to 
make  up  our  matters  of  diplomacy." 

"  Yonr  Grace  astonishes  me,"  said  Jerningham.  '•  Chris- 
tian's plan  of  supplanting  the  great  lady  is  then  entirely 
abandoned  ?  I  thought  you  had  but  desired  to  have  the 
fair  successor  here,  in  order  to  carry  it  on  under  your  own 
management." 

'*  I  forget  what  I  meant  at  the  time,"  said  the  duke ; 
*'  unless  that  I  was  resolved  she  should  not  jilt  me  as  she  did 
the  good-natured  man  of  royalty ;  and  so  I  am  still  deter- 
mined, since  you  put  me  in  mind  of  the  fair  Dowsabelle. 
But  I  had  a  contrite  note  from  the  duchess  while  we  were 
at  the  Mall.  I  went  to  see  her,  and  found  her  a  perfect 
Niobe.  On  my  soul,  in  spite  of  red  eyes,  and  swelled  fea- 
tures, and  disheveled  hair,  there  are,  after  all,  Jerningham, 
some  women  who  do,  as  the  poets  say,  look  lovely  in  afflic- 
tion. Out  came  the  cause ;  and  with  such  humility,  such 
penitence,  such  throwing  herself  on  my  mercy — she  the 
proudest  devil,  too,  in  the  whole  court — that  I  must  have 
had  heart  of  steel  to  resist  it  all.  In  short,  Chiffinch  in  a 
drunken  fit  had  played  the  babbler,  and  let  young  Saville 
into  our  intrigue.  Saville  plays  the  rogue,  and  informs  the 
duchess  by  a  messenger,  who  luckily  came  a  little  late  into 
the  market.  She  learned,  too,  being  a  very  devil  for  intel- 
ligence, that  there  had  been  some  jarring  between  the  mas- 
ter and  me  about  this  new  Phi  His  ;  and  that  I  was  most 
likely  to  catch  the  bird — as  any  one  may  see  who  looks  on 
US  both.    It  must  have  bsQu  Empson  who  fluted  all  this  into 


i32  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

her  Grace's  ear  ;  and  thinking  she  saw  how  her  ladyship  and 
I  could  hunt  in  couples,  she  entreats  me  to  break  Chris- 
tian's scheme,  and  keep  the  wench  out  of  the  King's  sight, 
especially  if  she  were  such  a  rare  piece  of  perfection  as  fame 
has  reported  her/' 

*'  And  your  Grace  has  promised  her  your  hand  to  uphold 
the  influence  which  you  have  so  often  threatened  to  ruin  ?  " 
said  Jerningham. 

''Ay,  Jerningham;  my  turn  was  as  much  served  when 
she  seemed  to  own  herself  in  my  power  and  cry  me  mercy. 
And  observe,  it  is  all  one  to  me  by  which  ladder  I  cilmb  into 
the  King's  cabinet.  That  of  Portsmouth  is  ready  fixed — 
better  ascend  by  it  than  fling  it  down  to  put  up  another  ;  I 
hate  all  unnecessary  trouble." 

''And  Christian  ?"  said  Jerningham. 

"  May  go  to  the  devil  for  a  self-conceited  ass.  One  pleas- 
ure of  this  twist  of  intrigue  is,  to  revenge  me  of  that  villain, 
who  thought  himself  so  essential  that,  by  Heaven  !  he  forced 
himself  on  my  privacy  and  lectured  me  like  a  schoolboy. 
Hang  the  cold-blooded  hypocritical  vermin.  If  he  mutters, 
I  will  have  his  nose  slit  as  wide  as  Coventry's.*  Hark  ye, 
is  the  colonel  come  ?  " 

"  I  expect  him  every  moment,  your  Grace." 

"Send  him  up  when  he  arrives,"  said  the  duke.  "  Why 
do  you  stand  looking  at  me  ?     What  would  you  have  ?  " 

"Your  Grace's  directions  respecting  the  young  lady,"  said 
Jerningham. 

"  Odd  zooks,"  said  the  duke,  "  I  had  totally  forgotten 
her.     Is  she  very  tearful  ?     Exceedingly  afflicted  ?" 

"  She  does  not  take  on  so  violently  as  I  have  seen  some 
do,"  said  Jerningham  ;  "  but,  for  a  strong,  firm,  concen- 
trated indignation,  I  have  seen  none  to  match  her." 

"  Well,  we  will  permit  her  to  cool.  I  will  not  face  the 
affliction  of  a  second  fair  one  immediately.  I  am  tired  of 
sniveling,  and  swelled  eyes,  and  blubbered  cheeks  for  some 
time  ;  and,  moreover,  mnst  husband  my  powers  of  consola- 
tion.    Begone,  and  send  the  colonel." 

"  Will  your  Grace  permit  me  one  other  question  ?  "  de- 
manded his  confidant. 

"  Ask  what  thou  wilt,  Jerningham,  and  then  begone." 

"  Your  Grace  has  determined  to  give  up  Christian,"  said 
the  attendant.  "  May  I  ask  what  becomes  of  the  kingdom 
of  Man?" 

♦  Bee  Ck)ventiy*s  Act.    Note  84. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  438 

"  Forgotten,  as  I  have  a  Christian  soul !  **  said  the  duke — 
*'  as  much  forgotten  as  if  I  had  never  nourished  that  scheme 
of  royal  ambition.  D — n  it,  we  must  knit  up  the  raveled 
skein  of  that  intrigue.  Yet  it  is  but  a  miserable  rock,  not 
worth  the  trouble  I  have  been  bestowing  on  it ;  and  for  a 
kingdom — it  has  a  sound  indeed  ;  but,  in  reality,  I  might  as 
well  stick  a  cock-chicken^s  feather  into  my  hat  and  call  it  a 
plume.  Besides,  now  1  think  upon  it,  it  would  scarce  be 
honorable  to  sweep  that  petty  royalty  out  of  Derby^s  pos- 
session. I  won  a  thousand  pieces  of  the  young  earl  when 
he  was  last  here,  and  suffered  him  to  hang  about  me  at 
court.  I  question  if  the  whole  revenue  of  his  kingdom  is 
worth  twice  as  much.  Easily  I  could  win  it  of  him,  were 
he  here,  with  less  trouble  than  it  would  cost  me  to  carry  on 
these  troublesome  intrigues  of  Christian's. 

"  If  I  may  be  permitted  to  say  so,  please  your  Grace, *'  an- 
swered Jerningham,  '^  although  your  Grace  is  perhaps  some- 
what liable  to  change  your  mind,  no  man  in  England  can 
afford  better  reasons  for  doing  so." 

'^  I  think  so  myself,  Jerningham,"  said  the  duke  ;  "  and 
it  may  be  it  is  one  reason  for  my  changing.  One  likes  to 
vindicate  his  own  conduct,  and  to  find  out  fine  reasons  for 
doing  what  one  has  a  mind  to.  And  now,  once  again,  be- 
gone. Or,  hark  ye — hark  ye,  I  shall  need  some  loose  gold. 
You  may  leave  the  purse  I  gave  you  ;  and  I  will  give  you  an 
order  for  as  much,  and  two  years'  interest,  on  old  Jacob 
Doublefee.'' 

''  As  your  Grace  pleases,''  said  Jerningham,  his  whole 
stock  of  complaisance  scarcely  able  to  conceal  his  mortifica- 
tion at  exchanging  for  a  distant  order,  of  a  kind  which  of 
late  had  not  been  very  regularly  honored,  the  sunny  con- 
tents of  the  purse  which  had  actually  been  in  his  pocket. 
Secretly  but  solemnly  did  he  make  a  vow  that  two  years'  in- 
terest alone  should  not  be  the  compensation  for  this  involun- 
tary exchange  in  the  form  of  his  remuneration. 

As  the  discontented  dependant  left  the  apartment,  he  met, 
at  the  head  of  the  grand  staircase,  Christian  himself,  who, 
exercising  the  freedom  of  an  ancient  friend  of  the  house, 
was  making  his  way,  unannounced,  to  the  duke's  dressing- 
apartment.  Jerningham,  conjecturing  that  his  visit  at  this 
crisis  would  be  anything  but  well  timed  or  well-taken,  en- 
deavored to  avert  his  purpose  by  asserting  that  the  duke 
was  indisposed  and  in  his  bedchamber  ;  and  this  he  said  so 
loud  that  his  master  might  hear  him,  and,  if  he  pleased, 
realize  the  apology  which  he  offered  in  his  name  by  retreat- 
88 


434  WA  VEBLE  Y  NO  VELS 

ing  into  the  bedroom  as  his  last  sanctuary,  and  drawing  the 
bolt  against  intrusiono 

But,  far  from  adopting  a  stratagem  to  which  he  had  had 
recourse  on  former  occasions,  in  order  to  avoid  those  who 
came  upon  him,  though  at  an  apppointed  hour,  and  upon 
business  of  importance,  Buckingham  called,  in  a  loud  voice, 
from  his  dressing-apartment,  commanding  his  cnamberlain 
instantly  to  introduce  his  good  friend  Master  Christian,  and 
censuring  him  for  hesitating  for  an  instant  to  do  so. 

^'  Now,''  thought  Jerningham  within  himself,  '^  if  Chris- 
tian knew  the  duke  as  well  as  I  do,  he  would  sooner  stand 
the  leap  of  a  lion,  like  the  London  'prentice  bold,  than  ven- 
ture on  my  master  at  this  moment,  who  is  even  now  in  a 
humor  nearly  as  dangerous  as  the  animal." 

He  then  ushered  Christian  into  his  master's  presence, 
taking  care  to  post  himself  within  ear-shot  of  the  door. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

**  Speak  not  of  niceness,  when  there's  chance  of  wreck."' 
The  captain  said,  as  ladies  writhed  their  neck 
To  see  the  dying  dolphin  flap  the  deck. 
"  If  we  go  down,  on  us  these  gventry  sup  ; 
We  dine  upon  them,  if  we  haul  them  up. 
Wise  men  applaud  us  when  we  eat  the  eaters, 
s  the  devil  laughs  when  keen  folks  cheat  the  cheaters." 

2}ie  Sea  Voyage. 

There  was  nothing  in  the  duke's  manner  towards  Christian 
which  could  have  conveyed  to  that  latter  personage,  exj^eri- 
enced  as  he  was  in  the  worst  possible  ways  of  the  world,  that 
Buckingham  would,  at  that  particular  moment,  rather  have 
seen  the  devil  than  himself  ;  unless  it  was  that  Bucking- 
ham's reception  of  him,  being  rather  extraordinarily  courte- 
ous towards  so  old  an  acquaintance,  might  have  excited  some 
degree  of  suspicion. 

Having  escaped  with  some  difficulty  from  the  vague  region 
of  general  compliments,  which  bears  the  same  relation  to 
that  of  business  that  Milton  informs  us  the  Umbo  patrum 
has  to  the  sensible  and  material  earth.  Christian  asked  his 
Grace  of  Buckingham,  with  the  same  blunt  plainness  with 
which  he  usually  veiled  a  very  deep  and  artificial  character, 
whether  he  had  lately  seen  Chiffinch  or  his  helpmate. 

"  Neither  of  them  lately,'^  answered  Buckingham.  "  Have 
not  you  waited  on  them  yourself  ?  I  thought  you  would 
have  been  more  anxious  about  the  great  scheme.'"' 

"  I  have  called  once  and  again, '^  said  Christian,  '*  but  I 
can  gain  no  access  to  the  sight  of  that  important  couple.  I 
begin  to  be  afraid  they  are  paltering  with  me.'"' 

^'  Which,  by  the  welkin  and  its  stars,  you  would  not  be 
slow  in  avenging.  Master  Christian.  I  know  your  Puritani- 
cal principles  on  that  point  well,"  said  the  duke.  ^' Eevenge 
may  be  well  said  to  be  sweet,  when  so  many  grave  and  wise 
men  are  ready  to  exchange  for  it  all  the  sugar-plums  which 
pleasures  offer  to  the  poor  sinful  people  of  the  world,  besides 
the  reversion  of  those  which  they  talk  of  expecting  in  the 
way  of  post  olit" 

*'  You  may  jest,  my  lord/'  said  Christian,  '^  but  still " 


436  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

^'  But  still  you  will  be  revenged  on  Chiffinch  and  his  little 
commodious  companion.  And  yet  the  task  may  be  diffi- 
cult :  Chiffinch  has  so  many  ways  of  obliging  his  master ; 
his  little  woman  is  such  a  convenient  pretty  sort  o£  a  screen, 
and  has  such  winning  little  ways  of  her  own,  that,  in  faith, 
in  your  case,  I  would  not  meddle  with  them.  What  is  this 
refusing  their  door,  man  ?  We  all  do  it  to  our  best  friends 
now  and  then,  as  well  as  to  duns  and  dull  company." 

^'  If  your  Grace  is  in  a  humor  of  rambling  thus  wildly  in 
your  talk,"' said  Christian,  "you  know  my  old  faculty  of 
patience  :  I  can  wait  till  it  be  your  pleasure  to  talk  more 
seriously."' 

"  Seriously  ! "  said  his  Grace.  "  Wherefore  not  ?  I  only 
wait  to  know  what  your  serious  business  may  be."' 

"In  a  word,  my  lord,  Chiffinch's  refusal  to  see  me,  and 
some  vain  calls  which  I  have  made  at  your  Grace's  mansion, 
I  am  afraid  either  that  our  plan  has  miscarried  or  that  there 
is  some  intention  to  exclude  me  from  the  further  conduct  of 
the  matter."  Christian  pronounced  these  words  with  con- 
siderable emphasis. 

"  That  were  folly,  as  well  as  treachery,"  returned  the 
duke,  "to  exclude  from  the  spoil  the  very  engineer  who 
conducted  the  attack.  But  hark  ye.  Christian — I  am  sorry 
to  tell  bad  news  without  preparation  ;  but,  as  you  insist  on 
knowing  the  worst,  and  are  not  ashamed  to  suspect  your 
best  friends,  out  it  must  come.  Your  niece  left  Chiffinch's 
house  the  morning  before  yesterday." 

Christian  staggered,  as  if  he  had  received  a  severe  blow  ; 
and  the  blood  ran  to  his  face  in  such  a  current  of  passion 
that  the  duke  concluded  he  was  struck  with  an  apoplexy. 
But,  exerting  the  extraordinry  command  which  he  could 
maintain  under  the  most  trying  circumstances,  he  said;,  with 
a  voice  the  composure  of  which  had  an  unnatural  contrast 
with  the  alteration  of  his  countenance,  "  Am  I  to  conclude 
that,  in  leaving  the  protection  of  the  roof  in  which  I  placed 
her,  the  girl  has  found  shelter  under  that  of  your  Grace  ?  " 

"Sir,"  replied  Buckingham,  gravely,  "the  supposition 
does  my  gallantry  more  credit  than  it  deserves." 

"  Oh,  my  lord  duke,"  answered  Christian,  *'  I  am  not  one 
whom  you  can  impose  on  by  this  species  of  courtly  jargon. 
I  know  of  what  your  Grace  is  capable  ;  and  that,  to  gratify 
the  caprice  of  a  moment,  you  would  not  hesitate  to  disap- 
point even  the  schemes  at  which  you  yourself  have  labored 
most  busily.  Suppose  this  jest  played  off.  Take  your  laugh 
at  those  simple  precautions  by  which  I  intended  to  protect 


PEVEIUL  OF  THE  PEAK  437 

your  Grace's  interest,  as  well  as  that  of  others.  Let  ns  know 
the  extent  of  your  frolic,  and  consider  now  far  its  conse- 
quences can  be  repaired/' 

'^  On  my  word.  Christian,"  said  the  duke,  laughing,  ''  you 
are  the  most  obliging  of  uncles  and  of  guardians.  Let  your 
niece  pass  through  as  many  adventures  as  Boccaccio's  bride 
of  the  King  of  Garbo,  you  care  not.  Pure  or  soiled,  she 
will  still  make  the  footstool  of  your  fortune." 

An  Indian  proverb  says  that  the  dart  of  contempt  will 
even  pierce  through  the  shell  of  the  tortoise  ;  but  this  is 
more  peculiarly  the  case  when  conscience  tells  the  subject  of 
the  sarcasm  that  it  is  justly  merited.  Christian,  stung  with 
Buckingham's  reproach,  at  once  assumed  a  haughty  and 
threatening  mien,  totally  inconsistent  with  that  in  which 
sufferance  seemed  to  be  as  much  his  badge  as  that  of  Shy- 
lock.  "  You  are  a  foul-mouthed  and  most  unworthy  lord," 
he  said  ;  ^^  and  as  such  I  will  proclaim  you,  unless  you  make 
reparation  for  the  injury  you  have  done  me." 

'^  And  what,"  said  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  '^  shall  I 
proclaim  you,  that  can  give  you  the  least  title  to  notice  from 
such  as  I  am  ?  What  name  shall  I  bestow  on  the  little  tran- 
saction which  has  given  rise  to  such  unexpected  misunder- 
standing ?  " 

Christian  was  silent,  either  from  rage  or  from  mental 
conviction. 

^^  Come — come.  Christian,"  said  the  duke  smiling,  '^  we 
know  too  much  of  each  other  to  make  a  quarrel  safe.  Hate 
each  other  we  may,  circumvent  each  other — it  is  the  way  of 
courts — but  proclaim  !  a  fico  for  the  phrase." 

**^  I  used  it  not,"  said  Christian,  ^' till  your  Grace  drove 
me  to  extremity.  '^  You  know,  my  lord,  I  have  fought  both 
at  home  and  abroad  ;  and  you  should  not  rashly  think  that 
I  will  endure  any  indignity  which  blood  can  wipe  away." 

'^  On  the  contrary,"  said  the  duke,  with  the  same  civil 
and  sneering  manner,  ^'  I  can  confidently  assert  that  the 
life  of  half  a  score  of  your  friends  would  seem  very  light  to 
you.  Christian,  if  their  existence  interfered,  I  do  not  say 
with  your  character,  as  being  a  thing  of  much  less  conse- 
quence, but  with  any  advantage  which  their  existence  might 
intercept.  Fie  upon  it,  man,  we  have  known  each  other 
long.  I  never  thought  you  a  coward,  and  am  only  glad  to 
see  I  could  strike  a  few  sparkles  of  heat  out  of  your  cold 
and  constant  disposition.  I  will  now,  if  you  please,  tell  you 
at  once  the  fate  of  the  young  lady,  in  which  I  pray  you  to 
believe  that  I  am  truly  interested," 


438  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

**  I  hear  you,  my  lord  duke,"  said  Christian.  "  The  curl 
of  your  upper  lip  and  your  eyebrow  does  not  escape  me. 
Your  Grace  knows  the  French  proverb,  *  He  laughs  best  who 
laughs  last.'    But  I  hear  you." 

** Thank  Heaven  you  do,"  said  Buckingham  ;  ''for  your 
case  requires  haste,  I  promise  you,  and  involves  no  laughing 
matter.  Well,  then,  hear  a  simple  truth,  on  which,  if  it 
became  me  to  offer  any  pledge  for  what  I  assert  to  be  such, 
I  could  pledge  life,  fortune,  and  honor.  It  was  the  morn- 
ing before  last,  when,  meeting  with  the  King  at  Chiffinch's 
unexpectedly — in  fact,  I  had  looked  in  to  fool  an  houi 
away,  and  to  learn  how  your  scheme  advanced — I  saw  a 
singular  scene.  Your  niece  terrified  little  Chiffinch — the 
hen  Chiffinch,  I  mean — bid  the  King  defiance  to  his  teeth, 
and  walked  out  of  the  presence  triumphantly,  under  the 
guardianship  of  a  young  fellow  of  little  mark  or  likelihood, 
excepting  a  tolerable  personal  presence  and  the  advantage  of 
a  most  unconquerable  impudence.  Egad,  I  can  hardly  help 
laughing  to  think  how  the  King  and  I  were  both  baffled  ; 
for  I  will  not  deny  that  I  had  tried  to  trifle  for  a  moment 
with  the  fair  Indamora.  But,  egad,  the  young  fellow 
swooped  her  off  from  under  our  noses  like  my  own  Draw- 
cansir  clearing  off  the  banquet  from  the  two  kings  of  Brent- 
ford. There  was  a  dignity  in  the  gallant's  swaggering  re- 
treat which  I  must  try  to  teach  Mohun  ;  it  will  suit  his  part 
admirably." 

*'  This  is  incomprehensible,  my  lord  duke,"  said  Chris- 
tian, who  by  this  time  had  recovered  all  his  usual  coolness  ; 
"you  cannot  expect  me  to  believe  this.  Who  dared  be  so 
hold  as  to  carry  off  my  niece  in  such  a  manner,  and  from 
so  august  a  presence  ?  And  with  whom,  a  stranger  as  he 
must  have  been,  would  she,  wise  and  cautious  as  I  know 
her,  have  consented  to  depart  in  such  a  manner  ?  My  lord, 
I  cannot  believe  this." 

"  One  of  your  priests,  my  most  devout  Christian,"  replied 
the  duke,  "would  answer,  'Die,  infidel,  in  thine  unbelief  ; 
but  I  am  only  a  poor  worldling  sinner,  and  will  add  what 
mite  of  information  I  can.  The  young  fellow's  name,  as  I 
am  given  to  understand,  is  Julian,  son  of  Sir  Geoffrey,  whom 
men  call  Peveril  of  the  Peak." 

' '  Peveril  of  the  Devil,  who  hath  his  cavern  there  !  "  said 
Christian,  warmly  ;  "  for  I  know  that  gallant,  and  believe 
him  capable  of  anything  bold  and  desperate.  But  how 
could  he  intrude  himself  into  the  royal  presence  ?  Either 
Hell  aids  him  or  Heaven  looks  nearer  into  mortal  dealings 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  439 

than  I  have  yet  believed.  If  so,  may  God  forgive  us,  who 
deemed  He  thought  not  on  us  at  all  !  '^ 

^'  Amen,  most  Christian  Christian,"  replied  the  duke.  ''  I 
am  glad  to  see  thou  hast  yet  some  touch  of  grace  that  leads 
thee  to  augur  so.  But  Empson,  the  hen  Chiffinch,  and  half 
a  dozen  more,  saw  the  swain^s  entrance  and  departure. 
Please  examine  these  witnesses  with  your  own  wisdom,  if 
you  think  your  time  may  not  be  better  employed  in  tracing 
the  fugitives.  1  believe  he  gained  entrance  as  one  of  some 
dancing  or  masking  party.  Rowley,  you  know,  is  accessible 
to  all  who  will  come  forth  to  make  him  sport.  So  in  stole 
this  termagant,  tearing  gallant,  like  Samson  among  the 
Philistines,  to  pull  down  our  fine  scheme  about  our  ears.'' 

''I  believe  you,  my  lord,"  said  Christian — "1  cannot  but 
believe  you  ;  and  I  forgive  you,  since  it  is  your  nature,  for 
making  sport  of  what  is  ruin  and  destruction.  But  which 
way  did  they  take  ?" 

''To  Derbyshire,  I  should  presume,  to  seek  her  father," 
said  the  duke.  ''  She  spoke  of  going  into  the  paternal  pro- 
tection, instead  of  yours.  Master  Christian.  Something  had 
chanced  at  Chiffinch's  to  give  her  cause  to  suspect  that  you 
had  not  altogether  provided  for  his  daughter  in  the  manner 
which  her  father  was  likely  to  approve  of." 

"Now,  Heaven  be  praised,"  said  Christian,  "she  knows 
not  her  father  is  come  to  London  !  and  they  must  be  gone 
down  either  to  Martindale  Castle  or  to  Moultrassie  Hall ;  in 
either  case  they  are  in  my  power,  I  must  follow  them  close.  I 
will  return  instantly  to  Derbyshire.  I  am  undone  if  she  meet 
her  father  until  these  errors  are  amended.  Adieu,  my  lord. 
I  forgive  the  part  which  I  fear  your  Grace  must  have  had  in 
balking  our  enterprise ;  it  is  no  time  for  mutual  re- 
proaches.'' 

"  You  speak  truth.  Master  Christian,"  said  the  duke, 
"  and  I  wish  you  all  success.  Can  I  help  you  with  men  or 
horses,  or  money  ?  " 

"  I  thank  your  Grace,"  said  Christian,  and  hastily  left  the 
apartment. 

The  duke  watched  his  descending  footsteps  on  the  stair- 
case, until  they  could  be  heard  no  longer,  and  then  exclaimed 
to  Jerningham,  who  entered,  "  Victoria!  victoria!  magna 
est  Veritas  et prcevalebit !  Had  I  told  the  villain  a  word  of 
a  lie,  he  is  so  familiar  with  all  the  regions  of  falsehood — his 
whole  life  has  been  such  an  absolute  imposture — that  I  had 
stood  detected  in  an  instant ;  but  I  told  him  truth,  and  that 
was  the  only  means  of  deceiving  him.      Victoria  !  my  dear 


440  WAVERLBT  NOVELS 

Jerningham,  I  am  prouder  of  cheating  Christian  than  I 
should  have  been  of  circumventing  a  minister  of  state/' 

*'  Your  Grace  holds  his  wisdom  very  high/'  said  the  at- 
tendant. 

''  His  cunning,  at  least,  I  do,  which,  in  court  affairs,  often 
takes  the  weather-gage  of  wisdom,  as  in  Yarmouth  Koads  a 
herring-buss  will  baffle  a  frigate.  He  shall  not  return  to 
London  if  I  can  help  it  until  all  these  intrigues  are  over.'' 

As  his  Grace  spoke,  the  colonel,  after  whom  he  had  re- 
peatedly made  inquiry,  was  announced  by  a  gentleman  of 
his  household.  "  He  met  not  Christian,  did  he  ?"  said  the 
duke,  hastily. 

'*  No,  my  lord,"  returned  the  domestic,  "  the  colonel  came 
by  the  old  garden  staircase." 

"  I  judged  as  much,"  replied  the  duke  ;  *"tis  an  owl  that 
will  not  take  wing  in  daylight,  when  there  is  a  thicket  left 
to  skulk  under.  Here  he  comes  from  threading  lane,  vault, 
and  ruinous  alley,  very  near  as  ominous  a  creature  as  the 
fowl  of  ill  augury  which  he  resembles." 

The  colonel,  to  whom  no  other  appellation  seemed  to  be 
given  than  that  which  belonged  to  his  military  station,  now 
entered  the  apartment.  He  was  tall,  strongly  built,  and 
past  the  middle  period  of  life,  and  his  countenance,  but  for 
the  heavy  cloud  which  dwelt  upon  it,  might  have  been  pro- 
nounced a  handsome  one.  While  the  duke  spoke  to  him, 
either  from  humility  or  some  other  cause,  his  large,  serious 
eye  was  cast  down  upon  the  ground  ;  but  he  raised  it,  when 
he  answered,  with  a  keen  look  of  earnest  observation.  His 
dress  was  very  plain,  and  more  allied  to  that  of  the  Puritans 
than  of  the  Cavaliers  of  the  time  ;  a  shadowy  black  hat  like 
the  Spanish  sombrero,  a  large  black  mantle  or  cloak,  and  a 
long  rapier,  gave  him  something  the  air  of  a  Castilione,  to 
which  his  gravity  and  stiffness  of  demeanor  added  con- 
siderable strength. 

'*  Well,  colonel,"  said  the  duke,  ''we  have  been  long 
strangers  ;  how  have  matters  gone  with  you  ?  " 

"  As  with  other  men  of  action  in  quiet  times,"  answered 
the  colonel,  ''  or  as  a  good  war-caper  that  lies  high  and  dry 
in  a  muddy  creek  till  seams  and  planks  are  rent  and  riven.'' 

''Well,  colonel,"  said  the  duke,  "  I  have  used  your  valor 
before  now,  and  I  may  again ;  so  that  I  shall  speedily  see 
that  the  vessel  is  careened  and  undergoes  a  thorough  re- 
pair." 

"I  conjecture,  then,"  said  the  colonel,  "that  your  Grace 
has  some  voyage  in  hand  ?  " 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  44i 

'*  No,  but  there  is  one  which  I  want  to  interrupt/'  replied 
the  duke. 

"  Tis  but  another  stave  of  the  same  tune,  Well,  my  lord, 
I  listen,"  answered  the  stranger. 

'*  Nay,*'  said  the  duke,  *'  it  is  but  a  trifling  matter  after 
all.     You  know  Ned  Christian  ?  " 

^'  Ay,  surely,  my  lord,"  replied  the  colonel  ;  "we  have 
been  long  known  to  each  other." 

'*  He  is  about  to  go  down  to  Derbyshire  to  seek  a  certain 
niece  of  his,  whom  he  will  scarcely  find  there.  Now,  I  trust 
to  your  tried  friendship  to  interrupt  his  return  to  London. 
Go  with  him,  or  meet  him,  cajole  him,  or  assail  him,  or  do 
what  thou  wilt  with  him,  only  keep  him  from  London  for  a 
fortnight  at  least,  and  then  I  care  little  how  soon  he  comes." 

"  For  by  that  time,  I  suppose,"  replied  the  colonel,  ''  any 
one  may  find  the  wench  that  thinks  her  worth  the  looking 
for." 

"  Thou  mayst  think  her  worth  the  looking  for  thyself, 
colonel,"  rejoined  the  duke  ;  ^'  I  promise  you  she  hath  many 
a  thousand  stitched  to  her  petticoat ;  such  a  wife  would  save 
thee  from  skeldering  on  the  public." 

*'  My  lord,  I  sell  my  blood  and  my  sword,  but  not  my 
honor,"  answered  the  man,  sullenly  ;  "  if  I  marry,  my  bed 
may  be  a  poor  but  it  shall  be  an  honest  one." 

* '  Then  thy  wife  will  be  the  only  honest  matter  in  thy  pos- 
session, colonel,  at  least  since  I  have  known  you,"  replied 
the  duke. 

"  Why,  truly,  your  Grace  may  speak  your  pleasure  on  that 
point.  It  is  chiefly  your  business  which  I  have  done  of  late  ; 
and  if  it  were  less  strictly  honest  than  I  could  have  wished, 
the  employer  was  to  blame  as  well  as  the  agent.  But  for 
marrying  a  cast-off  mistress,  the  man — saving  your  Grace, 
to  whom  I  am  bound — lives  not  who  dares  propose  it  to  me." 

The  duke  laughed  loudly.  "  Why,  this  is  mine  Ancient 
PistoFs  vein,"  he  replied. 

"  Shall  I  Sir  Pandarus  of  Troy  become, 
And  by  my  side  wear  steel?  then  Lucifer  take  all !" 

*'  My  'breeding  is  too  plain  to  understand  ends  of  playhouse 
verse,  my  lord,"  said  the  colonel,  sullenly.  ''Has  your 
Grace  no  other  service  to  command  me  ?  " 

'*  None  ;  only  I  am  told  you  have  published  a  Narrative  * 
concerning  the  Plot." 

♦  See  Note  85.  'V>li;rb  '  .  i;. 


442  WA VERLET  NOVELS 

''  What  should  ail  me,  my  lord  ?  "  said  the  colonel.  "  I 
hope  I  am  a  witness  as  competent  as  any  that  has  yet 
appeared  ?  " 

''Truly,  I  think  so  to  the  full/'  said  the  duke;  ''and  it 
would  have  been  hard,  when  so  much  profitable  mischief  was 
going,  if  so  excellent  a  Protestant  as  yourself  had  not  come 
in  for  a  share/^ 

"  I  came  to  take  your  Grace's  commands,  not  to  be  the 
object  of  your  wit,''  said  the  colonel. 

"  Gallantly  spoken,  most  resolute  and  most  immaculate 
colonel  !  As  you  are  to  be  on  full  pay  in  my  service  for  a 
month  to  come,  I  pray  your  acceptance  of  this  purse,  for 
contingents  and  equipments,  and  you  shall  have  my  instruc- 
tions from  time  to  time." 

"They  shall  be  punctually  obeyed,  my  lord,"  said  the 
colonel  ;  "  I  Know  the  duty  of  a  subaltern  officer.  I  wish 
your  Grace  a  good  morning." 

So  sayings  he  pocketed  the  purse,  without  either  affecting 
hesitation  or  expressing  gratitude,  but  merely  as  a  part  of  a 
transaction  in  the  regular  way  of  business,  and  stalked  from 
the  apartment  with  the  same  sullen  gravity  which  marked 
his  entrance.  "  Now,  there  goes  a  scoundrel  after  my  own 
heart,"  said  the  duke  :  "a  robber  from  his  cradle,  a  mur- 
derer since  he  could  hold  a  knife,  a  profound  hypocrite  in 
religion,  and  a  worse  and  deeper  hypocrite  in  honor — would 
sell  his  soul  to  the  devil  to  accomplish  any  villainy,  and 
would  cut  the  throat  of  his  brother,  did  he  dare  to  give  the 
villainy  he  had  so  acted  its  right  name.  Now,  why  stand 
you  amazed,  good  Master  Jerningham,  and  look  on  me  as 
you  would  on  some  monster  of  Ind,  when  you  had  paid  yonr 
shilling  to  see  it,  and  were  staring  out  yonr  pennyworth 
with  your  eyes  as  round  as  a  pair  of  spectacles  ?  Wink, 
man,  and  save  them,  and  then  let  thy  tongue  untie  the 
mystery." 

"  On  my  word,  my  lord  duke,"  answered  Jerningham, 
*'  since  I  am  compelled  to  speak,  I  can  only  say,  that  the 
longer  I  live  with  your  Grace,  I  am  the  more  at  a  loss  to 
fathom  your  motives  of  action.  Others  lay  plans,  either  to 
attain  profit  or  pleasure  by  their  execution  ;  but  your  Grace's 
delight  is  to  counteract  your  own  schemes,  when  in  the  very 
act  of  performance,  like  a  child — forgive  me — that  breaks 
its  favorite  toy,  or  a  man  who  should  set  fire  to  the  house  he 
has  half  built." 

"  And  why  not,  if  he  wanted  to  warm  his  hands  at  the 
blaze  ? "  said  the  duke.. 


\ 


PEVEEIL  OF  THE  PEAK  443 

"  Ay,  my  lord/^  replied  his  dependant ;  "  but  what  if,  in 
doing  so,  he  should  burn  his  fingers  ?  My  lord,  it  is  one  of 
your  noblest  qualities,  that  you  will  sometimes  listen  to  the 
truth  without  taking  offense  ;  but  were  it  otherwise,  I  could 
not,  at  this  moment,  help  speaking  out  at  every  risk/' 

''  AVell,  say  on,  I  can  bear  it,'^  said  the  duke,  throwing 
himself  into  an  easy-chair  and  using  his  toothpick  with 
graceful  indifference  and  equanimity  ;  ''  I  love  to  hear  what 
such  potsherds  as  thou  art  think  of  the  proceedings  of  us 
who  are  of  the  pure  porcelain  clay  of  the  earth/' 

'^  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  my  lord,  let  me  then  ask  you,*' 
said  Jerningham,  *'what  merit  you  claim,  or  what  advan- 
tage you  expect,  from  having  embroiled  everything  in  which 
you  are  concerned  to  a  degree  which  equals  the  chaos  of  the 
blind  old  Roundhead's  poem  which  your  Grace  is  so  fond  of  ? 
To  be^in  with  the  King.  In  spite  of  good-humor,  he  will 
be  incensed  at  your  repeated  rivalry." 

"  His  Majesty  defied  me  to  it/' 

'^  You  have  lost  all  hopes  of  the  isle,  by  quarreling  with 
Christian." 

*'  I  have  ceased  to  care  a  farthing  about  it,"  replied  the 
duke. 

^'  In  Christian  himself,  whom  you  have  insulted,  and  to 
whose  family  you  intend  dishonor,  you  have  lost  a  sagacious, 
artful,  and  cool-headed  instrument  and  adherent,"  said  the 
monitor. 

*' Poor  Jerningham!"  answered  the  duke;  ^'Christian 
would  say  as  much  for  thee,  I  doubt  not,  wertthou  discarded 
to-morrow.  It  is  the  common  error  of  such  tools  as  you  and 
he  to  think  themselves  indispensable.  As  to  his  family, 
what  was  never  honorable  cannot  be  dishonored  by  any  con- 
nection with  my  house." 

*^  I  say  nothing  of  Chiffinch,"  said  Jerningham,  "offended 
as  he  will  be  when  he  learns  why,  and  by  whom,  his  scheme 
has  been  ruined  and  the  lady  spirited  away.  He  and  his 
wife — I  say  nothing  of  them." 

''You  need  not,"  said  the  duke;  ''for,  were  they  even 
fit  persons  to  speak  to  me  about,  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth 
has  bargained  for  their  disgrace." 

"  Then  this  bloodhound  of  a  colonel,  as  he  calls  himself 
— your  Grace  cannot  even  lay  Mm  on  a  quest  which  is  to  do 
you  service,  but  you  must  do  him  such  indignity  at  the  same 
time  as  he  will  not  fail  to  remember,  and  be  sure  to  fly  at 
your  throat  should  he  ever  have  an  opportunity  of  turning 
on  you." 


444  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

"  I  will  take  care  he  has  none/'  said  the  duke ;  '*  and 
yours,  Jerningham,  is  a  low-lived  apprehension.  Beat  your 
spaniel  heartily  if  you  would  have  him  under  command.  Ever 
let  your  agents  see  you  know  what  they  are,  and  prize  them 
accordingly.  A  rogue,  who  must  needs  be  treated  as  a  man 
of  honor,  is  apt  to  get  above  his  work.  Enough,  therefore, 
of  your  advice  and  censure,  Jerningham  ;  we  differ  in  every 
particular.  Were  we  both  engineers,  you  would  spend  your 
life  in  watching  some  old  woman^s  wheel,  which  spins  flax 
by  the  ounce ;  I  must  be  in  the  midst  of  the  most  varied 
and  counteracting  machinery,  regulating  checks  and  counter- 
checks, balancing  weights,  proving  springs  and  wheels, 
directing  and  controlling  a  hundred  combined  powers." 

*'  And  your  fortune,  in  the  meanwhile  ?  "  said  Jerning- 
ham ;  '^  pardon  this  last  hint,  my  lord." 

"  My  fortune,"  said  the  duke,  '*  is  too  vast  to  be  hurt  by 
a  petty  wound  ;  and  I  have,  as  thou  knowest,  a  thousand 
salves  in  store  for  the  scratches  and  scars  which  it  sometimes 
receives  in  greasing  my  machinery." 

''  Your  Grace  does  not  mean  Dr.  Wilderhead's  powder  of 
projection  ?  " 

"  Pshaw  !  he  is  a  quacksalver,  and  mountebank,  and 
beggar." 

"  Or  Solicitor  Drowndland's  plan  for  draining  the  fens  ?" 

*'  He  is  a  cheat — videlicet,  an  attorney." 

**  Or  the  Laird  of  Lackpelfs  sale  of  Highland  woods  ?" 

'*  He  is  a  Scotsman,"  said  the  duke — "  videlicet,  both 
cheat  and  beggar." 

"  These  streets  here,  upon  the  site  of  your  noble  mansion- 
house  ?  "  said  Jerningham. 

"  The  architect's  a  bite,  and  the  plan's  a  bubble.  I  am 
sick  of  the  sight  of  this  rubbish,  and  I  will  soon  replace  our 
old  alcoves,  alleys,  and  flower-pots  by  an  Italian  garden  and 
a  new  palace." 

*'  That,  my  lord,  would  be  to  waste,  not  to  improve,  your 
fortune,"  said  his  domestic. 

*'  Clodpate  and  muddy  spirit  that  thou  art,  thou  hast  for- 
got the  most  hopeful  scheme  of  all — the  South  Sea  Fisheries  ; 
their  stock  is  up  50  per  cent  already.  Post  down  to  the 
Alley  and  tell  old  Man  asses  to  buy  £20,000  for  me.  For- 
give me,  Plutus,  I  forgot  to  lay  my  sacrifice  on  thy  shrine, 
and  yet  expected  thy  favors  !  Fly  post  haste,  Jerningham 
—for  thy  life,  for  thy  life,  for  thy  life  I  "* 

♦  See  Stock- jobbing.    Note  86. 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  445 

With  hands  and  eyes  uplifted,  Jeriiingham  left  the  apart- 
ment ;  and  the  duke,  without  thinking  a  moment  further  on 
old  or  new  intrigues,  on  the  friendship  he  had  formed,  or 
the  enmity  he  had  provoked,  on  the  beauty  whom  he  had 
carried  off  from  her  natural  protectors,  as  well  as  from  her 
lover,  or  on  the  monarch  against  whom  he  had  placed  him- 
self in  rivalship,  sat  down  to  calculate  chances  with  all  the 
zeal  of  De  Moivre  ;  tired  of  the  drudgery  in  half  an  hour  ; 
and  refused  to  see  the  zealous  agent  whom  he  had  employed 
in  the  city,  because  he  was  busily  engaged  in  writing  a  new 
lampoon. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

Ah !  changeful  head  and  fickle  heart ! 

Progress  of  Discontent. 

No  event  is  more  ordinary  in  narratives  of  this  nature 
than  the  abduction  of  the  female  on  whose  fate  the  interest 
is  supposed  to  turn ;  but  that  of  Alice  Bridgenorth  was 
thus  far  particular,  that  she  was  spirited  away  by  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham  more  in  contradiction  than  in  the  rivalry  of 
passion  ;  and  that,  as  he  made  his  first  addresses  to  her  at 
Ohiffinch^s  rather  in  the  spirit  of  rivalry  to  his  sovereign  than 
from  any  strong  impression  which  her  beauty  had  made  on 
his  affections,  so  he  had  formed  the  sudden  plan  of  spiriting 
her  away  by  means  of  his  dependants  rather  to  perplex 
Christian,  the  King,  Chiffinch,  and  all  concerned,  than  be- 
cause he  had  any  particular  desire  for  her  society  at  his 
own  mansion.  Indeed,  so  far  was  this  from  being  the  case, 
that  his  Grace  was  rather  surprised  than  delighted  with  the 
success  of  the  enterprise  which  had  made  her  an  inmate 
there,  although  it  is  probable  he  might  have  thrown  himself 
into  an  uncontrollable  passion  had  he  learned  its  miscarriage 
instead  of  its  success. 

Twenty-four  hours  passed  over  since  he  had  returned  to 
his  own  roof  before,  notwithstanding  sundry  hints  from 
Jerningham,  he  could  even  determine  on  the  exertion 
necessary  to  pay  his  fair  captive  a  visit ;  and  then  it  was 
with  the  internal  reluctance  of  one  who  can  only  be  stirred 
from  indolence  by  novelty. 

*'  I  wonder  what  made  me  plague  myself  about  this  wench, 
said  he,  '  and  doom  myself  to  encounter  all  the  hysterical 
rhapsodies  of  a  country  Phillis,  with  her  head  stuffed  with 
her  grandmother's  lessons  about  virtue  and  the  Bible-book, 
when  the  finest  and  best  bred  women  in  town  may  be  had 
upon  more  easy  terms.  It  is  a  pity  one  cannot  mount  the 
victor's  car  of  triumph  without  having  a  victory  to  boast  of  ; 
yet,  faith  it  is  what  most  of  our  modern  gallants  do,  though 
it  would  not  become  Buckingham.  Well,  I  must  see  her/' 
he  concluded,  '  though  it  were  but  to  rid  the  house  of  her. 
The  Portsmouth  will  not  hear  of  her  being  set  at  libertv 

44A 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  447 

near  Charles,  so  much  is  she  afraid  of  a  new  fair  seducing 
the  old  sinner  from  his  allegiance.  So  how  the  girl  is  to  be 
disposed  of — for  I  shall  have  little  fancy  to  keep  her  here, 
and  she  is  too  wealthy  to  be  sent  down  to  Cliefden  as  a 
housekeeper —  is  a  matter  to  be  thought  on." 

He  then  called  for  such  a  dress  as  might  set  off  his  na- 
tural good  mien — a  compliment  which  he  considered  as  due 
to  his  own  merit ;  for  as  to  anything  farther,  he  went  to 
pay  his  respects  to  his  fair  prisoner  with  almost  as  little  zeal 
in  the  cause  as  a  gallant  to  fight  a  duel  in  which  he  has  no 
warmer  interest  than  the  maintenance  of  his  reputation  as 
a  man  of  honor. 

The  set  of  apartments  consecrated  to  the  use  of  those  fa- 
vorites who  occasionally  made  Buckingham's  mansion  their 
place  of  abode,  and  who  were,  so  far  as  liberty  was  concerned, 
often  required  to  observe  the  regulations  of  a  convent,  were 
separated  from  the  rest  of  the  duke's  extensive  mansion. 
He  lived  in  the  age  when  what  was  called  gallantry  warranted 
the  most  atrocious  actions  of  deceit  and  violence  ;  as  may 
be  best  illustrated  by  the  catastrophe  of  an  unfortunate 
actress,  whose  beauty  attracted  the  attention  of  the  last  De 
Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford.  While  her  virtue  defied  his  seduc- 
tions, he  ruined  her  under  color  of  a  mock  marriage,  and 
was  rewarded  for  a  success  which  occasioned  the  death  of 
his  victim  by  the  general  applause  of  the  men  of  wit  and 
gallantry  who  filled  the  drawing-room  of  Charles. 

Buckingham  had  made  provision  in  the  interior  of  his 
ducal  mansion  for  exploits  of  a  similar  nature  ;  and  the  set 
of  apartments  which  he  now  visited  were  alternately  used  to 
confine  the  reluctant  and  to  accommodate  the  willing. 

Being  now  destined  for  the  former  purpose,  the  key  was 
delivered  to  the  duke  by  a  hooded  and  spectacled  old  lady, 
who  sat  reading  a  devout  book  in  the  outer  hall  which  divided 
these  apartments,  usually  called  the  Nunnery,  from  the 
rest  of  the  house.  This  experienced  dowager  acted  as  mis- 
tress of  the  ceremonies  on  such  occasions,  and  was  the  trusty 
depositary  of  more  intrigues  than  were  known  to  any  dozen 
of  her  worshipful  calling  besides. 

"  As  sweet  a  linnet,"  she  said,  as  she  undid  the  outward 
door,  ''as  ever  sung  in  a  cage." 

''  I  was  afraid  she  might  have  been  more  for  moping  than 
for  singing,  Dowlas,"  said  the  duke. 

''  Till  yesterday  she  was  so,  please  your  Grace,"  answered 
Dowlas  ;  ''or,  to  speak  sooth,  till  early  this  morning,  we 
heard  of  nothing  but  lachrymcB,     But  the  air  of  your  noble 


448  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

Grace's  house  is  favorable  to  singing-birds,  and  to-day 
matters  have  been  a-much  mended/' 

"  'Tis  sudden,  dame,"  said  the  duke  ;  "  and  'tis  some- 
,thing  strange,  considering  that  I  have  never  visited  her, 
that  the  pretty  trembler  should  have  been  so  soon  recon- 
ciled to  her  fate." 

''Ah,  your  Grace  has  such  magic  that  it  communicates 
itself  to  your  very  walls  ;  as  wholesome  Scripture  says.  Exo- 
dus, first  and  seventh,  ''  It  cleaveth  to  the  walls  and  the 
door-posts." ' 

''  You  are  too  partial,  Dame  Dowlas,"  said  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham. 

"  Not  a  word  but  truth,"  said  the  dame  ;  *'  and  I  wish  I 
may  be  an  outcast  from  the  fold  of  the  lambs,  but  I  think 
this  damsel's  very  frame  has  changed  since  she  was  under 
your  Grace's  roof.  Methinks  she  hath  a  lighter  form,  a 
finer  step,  a  more  displayed  ankle — I  cannot  tell,  but  I  think 
there  is  a  change.  But,  lack-a-day,  your  Grace  knows  I  am 
as  old  as  I  am  trusty,  and  that  my  eyes  wax  something  un- 
certain." 

''  Especially  when  you  wash  them  with  a  cup  of  canary. 
Dame  Dowlas,"  answered  the  duke,  who  was  aware  that 
temperance  was  not  amongst  the  cardinal  virtues  which  were 
most  familiar  to  the  old  lady's  practise. 

''  Was  it  canary,  your  Grace  said  ?  Was  it  indeed  with 
canary  that  your  Grace  should  have  supposed  me  to  have 
washed  my  eyes  ?"  said  the  oif ended  matron.  ''I  am  sorry 
that  your  Grace  should  know  me  no  better." 

"1  crave  your  pardon,  dame,"  said  the  duke,  shaking 
aside  fastidiously,  the  grasp  which,  in  the  earnestness  of 
her  exculpation.  Madam  Dowlas  had  clutched  upon  his 
sleeve — ''  I  crave  your  pardon.  Your  nearer  approach  has 
convinced  me  of  my  erroneous  imputation  :  I  should  have 
said  Nantz,  not  canary." 

So  saying,  he  walked  forward  into  the  inner  apartments, 
which  were  fitted  up  with  an  air  of  voluptuous  magnificence. 

"  The  dame  said  true,  however,"  said  the  proud  deviser 
and  proprietor  of  the  splendid  mansion.  "  A  country  Phillia 
might  well  reconcile  herself  to  such  a  prison  as  this,  even 
without  a  skilful  bird-fancier  to  touch  a  bird-call.  But  I 
wonder  where  she  can  be,  this  rural  Phidele.  Is  it  possible 
she  can  have  retreated,  like  a  despairing  commandant,  into 
her  bedchamber,  the  very  citadel  of  the  place,  without  even 
an  attempt  to  defend  the  outworks  ?  " 

As  he  made  this  reflection,  he  passed  through  an  ante- 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  44C 

chamber  and  little  eating-parlor,  exquisitely  furnished,  and 
hung  with  excellent  paintings  of  the  Venetian  school. 

Beyond  these  lay  a  withdrawing-room,  fitted  up  in  a  style 
»f  still  more  studied  elegance.  The  windows  were  darkened 
with  painted  glass,  of  such  a  deep  and  rich  color  as  made  the 
mid-day  beams,  which  found  their  way  into  the  apartment, 
imitate  the  rich  colors  of  sunset  ;  and,  in  the  celebrated  ex- 
pression of  the  poet,  "  taught  light  to  counterfeit  a  gloom. '^ 

Buckingham^  feelings  and  taste  had  been  too  much,  and 
too  often,  and  too  readily,  gratified  to  permit  him,  in  the  gen- 
eral case,  to  be  easily  accessible,  even  to  those  pleasures  which 
it  had  been  the  business  of  his  life  to  pursue.  The  hackneyed 
voluptuary  is  like  the  jaded  epicure,  the  mere  listlessness  of 
whose  appetite  becomes  at  length  a  sufficient  penalty  for 
having  made  it  the  principal  object  of  his  enjoyment  and 
cultivation.  Yet  novelty  has  always  some  charms,  and  un- 
certainty has  more. 

The  doubt  how  he  was  to  be  received,  the  change  of  mood 
which  his  prisoner  was  said  to  have  evinced,  the  curiosity 
to  know  how  such  a  creature  as  Alice  Bridgenorth  had  been 
described,  was  likely  to  bear  herself  under  the  circumstances 
in  which  she  was  so  unexpectedly  placed,  had  upon  Bucking- 
ham the  effect  of  exciting  unusual  interest.  On  his  own 
part,  he  had  none  of  those  feelings  of  anxiety  with  which  a 
man,  even  of  the  most  vulgar  mind,  comes  to  the  presence 
of  the  female  whom  he  wishes  to  please,  far  less  the  more  re- 
fined sentiments  of  love,  respect,  desire,  and  awe  with  which 
the  more  refined  lover  approaches  the  beloved  object.  He 
had  been,  to  use  an  expressive  French  phrase,  too  completely 
blase  even  from  his  earliest  youth  to  permit  him  now  to  ex- 
perience the  animal  eagerness  of  the  one,  far  less  the  more 
sentimental  pleasure  of  the  other.  It  is  no  small  aggravation 
of  this  jaded  and  uncomfortable  state  of  mind  that  the  vol- 
uptuary cannot  renounce  the  pursuits  with  which  he  is  sati- 
ated, but  must  continue,  for  his  character's  sake,  or  from 
the  mere  force  of  habit,  to  take  all  the  toil,  fatigue,  and 
danger  of  the  chase,  while  he  has  so  little  real  interest  in  the 
termination. 

Buckingham,  therefore,  felt  it  due  to  his  reputation  as  a 
successful  hero  of  intrigue  to  pay  his  addresses  to  Alice 
Bridgenorth  with  dissembled  eagerness  ;  and,  as  he  opened 
the  door  of  the  inner  apartment,  he  paused  to  consider 
whether  the  tone  of  gallantry  or  that  of  passion  was  fittest  to 
use  on  the  occasion.  This  delay  enabled  him  to  hear  a  few 
notes  of  a  lute,  touched  with  exquisite  skill,  and  accom- 


460  WAViiBLEY  NOVELS 

panied  by  the  still  sweeter  strains  of  a  female  voice,  which, 
without  executing  any  complete  melody,  seemed  to  sport  it- 
self in  rivalship  of  the  silver  sound  of  the  instrument 

^^  A  creature  so  well  educated,"  said  the  duke,  **with  the 
sense  she  is  said  to  possess,  would,  rustic  as  she  is,  laugh  at 
the  assumed  rants  of  Oroondates.  It  is  the  vein  of  Dori- 
mant — once,  Buckingham,  thine  own — that  must  here  do  the 
feat,  besides  that  the  part  is  easier." 

So  thinking,  he  entered  the  room  with  that  easy  grace 
which  characterized  the  gay  courtiers  amongst  whom  he 
flourished,  and  approached  the  fair  tenant,  whom  he  found 
seated  near  a  table  covered  with  books  and  music,  and  having 
on  her  left  hand  the  large  half-open  casement,  dim  with 
stained  glass,  admitting  only  a  doubtful  light  into  this  lordly 
retiring-room,  which,  hung  with  the  richest  tapestry  of  the 
Gobelines,  and  ornamented  with  piles  of  china  and  splendid 
mirrors,  seemed  like  a  bower  built  for  a  prince  to  receive 
his  bride. 

The  splendid  dress  of  the  inmate  corresponded  with  the 
taste  of  the  apartment  which  she  occupied,  and  partook  of 
the  Oriental  costume  which  the  much-admired  Roxalana  had 
then  brought  into  fashion.  A  slender  foot  and  ankle,  which 
escaped  from  the  wide  trowsers  of  richly  ornamanted  and  em- 
broidered blue  satin,  was  the  only  part  of  her  person  dis- 
tinctly seen  ;  the  rest  was  enveloped,  from  head  to  foot,  in  a 
long  veil  of  silver  gauze,  which,  like  a  feathery  and  light 
mist  on  a  beautiful  landscape,  suffered  you  to  perceive  that 
what  it  concealed  was  rarely  lovely,  yet  induced  the  imagin- 
ations even  to  enhance  the  charms  it  shaded.  Such  part  of 
the  dress  as  could  be  discovered  was  like  the  veil  and  the 
trowsers  in  the  Oriental  taste  ;  a  rich  turban  and  splendid  caf- 
tan were  rather  indicated  than  distinguished  through  the  folds 
of  the  former.  The  whole  attire  argued  at  least  coquetry  on  the 
part  of  a  fair  one,  who  must  have  expected,  from  her  situa- 
tion, a  visitor  of  some  pretension  ;  and  induced  Buckingham 
to  smile  internally  at  Christian's  account  of  the  extreme 
simplicity  and  purity  of  his  niece. 

He  approached  the  lady  en  cavalier,  and  addressed  her 
with  the  air  of  being  conscious,  while  he  acknowledged  his 
offences,  that  his  condescending  to  do  so  formed  a  suflBcient 
apology  for  them.  "  Fair  Mistress  Alice,"  he  said,  y  I  am 
sensible  bow  deeply  I  ought  to  sue  for  pardon  for  the  mistaken 
zeal  of  my  servants,  who,  seeing  you  deserted  and  exposeo 
without  protection  during  an  unlucky  affray,  took  it  upon 
them  to  bring  you  under  the  roof  of  one  wno  would  expose 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  451 

his  life  rather  than  suffer  you  to  sustain  a  moment's  anxiety. 
Was  it  my  fault  that  those  around  me  should  have  judged  it 
necessary  to  interfere  for  your  perservation  ;  or  that,  aware 
of  the  interest  I  must  take  in  you,  they  have  detained  you 
till  I  could  myself,  in  personal  attendance,  receive  your 
commands  ?  " 

"  That  attendance  has  not  been  speedily  rendered,  my 
lord,"  answered  the  lady.  ''  I  have  been  a  prisoner  for  two 
days — neglected,  and  left  to  the  charge  of  menials/' 

"  How  say  you,  lady  ?  Neglected  !  "  exclaimed  the  duke. 
''By  Heaven,  if  the  best  in  my  household  has  failed  in  his 
duty,  I  will  discard  him  on  the  instant  ! " 

**  I  complain  of  no  lack  of  courtesy  from  your  servants, 
my  lord/'  she  replied  ;  "  but  methinks  it  had  been  but  com- 
plaisant in  the  duke  himself  to  explain  to  me  earlier  where- 
fore he  has  had  the  boldness  to  detain  me  as  a  state  prisoner/' 

'^  And  can  the  divine  Alice  doubt,"  said  Buckingham, 
"that,  had  time  and  space,  those  cruel  enemies  to  the 
flight  of  passion,  given  permission,  the  instant  in  which  you 
crossed  your  vassal's  threshold  had  seen  its  devoted  master  at 
your  feet,  who  hath  thought,  since  he  saw  you,  of  nothing 
but  the  charms  which  that  fatal  morning  placed  before  him 
at  Chiffinch's  ?  " 

*'I  understand,  then,  my  lord,"  said  the  lady,  ''that  you 
have  been  absent,  and  have  had  no  part  in  the  restraint 
which  has  been  exercised  upon  me  ?  " 

"  Absent  on  the  King's  command,  lady,  and  employed  in 
the  discharge  of  his  duty,"  answered  Buckingham,  without 
hesitation.  "What  could  I  do  ?  The  moment  you  left 
Chiffinch's,  his  Majesty  commanded  me  to  the  saddle  in  such 
haste  that  I  had  no  time  to  change  my  satin  buskins  for 
riding-boots.*  If  my  absence  has  occasioned  you  a  moment 
of  inconvenience,  blame  the  inconsiderate  zeal  of  those  who, 
seeing  me  depart  from  London,  half  distracted  at  my  sepa- 
ration from  you,  were  willing  to  contribute  their  unman- 
nered,  though  well-meant,  exertions  to  preserve  their  master 
from  despair,  by  retaining  the  fair  Alice  within  his  reach. 
To  whom,  indeed,  could  they  have  restored  you  ?  He  whom 
you  selected  as  your  champion  is  in  prison  or  fled,  your 
father  absent  from  town,  your  uncle  in  the  north.  To  Chif- 
flnch's  house  you  had  expressed  your  well-founded  aversion; 
and  what  fitter  asylum  remained  than  that  of  your  devoted 
slave,  where  you  must  ever  reign  a  queen  ?  " 

*  See  Hurried  Departure.    Note  37. 


452  WAVEBLEl  NOVELS 

"  An  imprisoned  one,"  said  the  lady.  ''  I  desire  not  such 
royalty/' 

'^Alas!  how  wilfully  you  misconstrue  me?''  said  the 
duke,  kneeling  on  one  knee  ;  '^  and  what  right  can  you  have 
to  complain  of  a  few  hours'  gentle  restraint — you,  who  des- 
tine so  many  to  hopeless  captivity  !  Be  merciful  for  once, 
and  withdraw  that  envious  veil  ;  for  the  divinities  are  ever 
most  cruel  when  they  deliver  their  oracles  from  such  clouded 
recesses.     Suffer  at  least  my  rash  hand " 

"  I  will  save  your  Grace  that  unworthy  trouble,"  said  the 
lady,  haughtily ;  and  rising  up,  she  flung  back  over  her 
shoulders  the  veil  which  shrouded  her,  saying  at  the  same 
time,  ''  Look  on  me,  my  lord  duke,  and  see  if  these  be  indeed 
the  charms  which  have  made  on  your  Grace  an  impression 
so  powerful." 

Buckingham  did  look  ;  and  the  effect  produced  on  him  by 
surprise  was  so  strong  that  he  rose  hastily  from  his  knee,  and 
remained  for  a  few  seconds  as  if  he  had  been  petrified.  The 
figure  that  stood  before  him  had  neither  the  height  nor  the 
rich  shape  of  Alice  Bridgenorth  ;  and,  though  perfectly 
well  made,  was  so  slightly  formed  as  to  seem  almost  infan- 
tine. Her  dress  was  three  or  four  short  vests  of  embroidered 
satin,  disposed  one  over  the  other,  of  different  colors,  or 
rather  different  shades  of  similar  colors  ;  for  strong  contrast 
was  carefully  avoided.  These  opened  in  front,  so  as  to  show 
part  of  the  throat  and  neck,  partially  obscured  by  an  inner 
covering  of  the  finest  lace  ;  over  the  uppermost  vest  was 
worn  a  sort  of  mantle  or  coat  of  rich  fur.  A  small  but  mag- 
nificent turban  was  carelessly  placed  on  her  head,  from  under 
which  flowed  a  profusion  of  coal-black  tresses,  which  Cleo- 
f  patra  might  have  envied.  The  taste  and  splendor  of  the 
/  Eastern  dress  corresponded  with  the  complexion  of  tlie 
lady's  face,  which  was  brunette,  of  a  shade  so  dark  as  might 
almost  have  served  an  Indian. 

Amidst  a  set  of  features  in  which  rapid  and  keen  expres- 
sion made  amends  for  the  want  of  regular  beauty,  the  essen- 
tial points  of  eyes  as  bright  as  diamonds  and  teeth  as  white 
as  pearls  did  not  escape  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  a  professed 
connoisseur  in  female  charms.  In  a  word,  the  fanciful  and 
singular  female  who  thus  unexpectedly  produced  herself  be- 
fore him  had  one  of  those  faces  which  are  never  seen  without 
making  an  impression  ;  which,  when  removed,  are  long  after 
remembered  ;  and  for  which,  in  our  idleness,  we  are  tempted 
to  invent  a  hundred  histories,  that  we  may  please  our  fancy 
by  supposing  the  features  under  the  influence  of  different 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  45S 

kinds  of  emotion.  Every  one  must  have  in  recollection 
countenances  of  this  kind,  which,  from  a  captivating  and 
stimulating  originality  of  expression,  abide  longer  in  the 
memory,  and  are  more  seductive  to  the  imagination,  than 
even  regular  beauty. 

"  My  lord  duke,^'  said  the  lady,  "  it  seems  the  lifting  of 
my  veil  has  done  the  work  of  magic  upon  your  Grace.  Alas, 
for  the  captive  princess,  w*hose  nod  was  to  command  a  vassal 
so  costly  as  your  Grace  !  She  runs,  methinks,  no  slight 
chance  of  being  turned  out  of  doors,  like  a  second  Cinderella, 
to  seek  her  fortune  among  lackeys  and  lightermen/' 

''  I  am  astonished  !  "  said  the  duke.  *'  That  villain,  Jer- 
ningham — I  will  have  the  scoundreFs  blood  ! '' 

''  Nay,  never  abuse  Jer ningham  for  the  matter,"  said  the 
Unknown  ;  **  but  lament  your  own  unhappy  engagements. 
While  you,  my  lord  duke,  were  posting  northward,  in  white 
satin  buskins,  to  toil  in  the  King's  affairs,  the  right  and 
lawful  princess  sat  weeping  in  sables  in  the  uncheered  soli- 
tude to  which  your  absence  condemned  her.  Two  days  she 
was  disconsolate  in  vain  ;  on  the  third  came  an  African  en- 
chantress to  change  the  scene  for  her,  and  the  person  for 
your  Grace.  Methinks,  my  lord,  this  adventure  will  tell 
but  ill,  when  some  faithful  squire  shall  recount  or  record 
the  gallant  adventures  of  the  second  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham.'' 

*'  Fairly  bit,  and  bantered  to  boot,"  said  the  duke  ;  '^  the 
monkey  has  a  turn  for  satire,  too,  by  all  that  is  piquante. 
Hark  ye,  fair  princess,  how  dared  you  adventure  on  such  a 
trick  as  you  have  been  accomplice  to  ?  " 

^'  Dare,  my  lord  ! "  answered  the  stranger  ;  *'  put  the 
question  to  others,  not  to  one  who  fears  nothing." 

^'  By  my  faith,  I  believe  so  ;  for  thy  front  is  bronzed  by 
nature.  Hark  ye  once  more,  mistress.  What  is  your  name 
and  condition  ?  " 

'^  My  condition  I  have  told  you  :  I  am  a  Mauritanian  sor- 
ceress by  profession,  and  my  name  is  Zarah,"  replied  the 
Eastern  maiden. 

*'  But  methinks  that  face,  shape,  and  eyes "  said  the 

duke.  ''  When  didst  thou  pass  for  a  dancing  fairy  ?  Some 
such  imp  thou  wert,  not  many  days  since." 

*'  My  sister  you  may  have  seen — my  twin  sister ;  but  not 
me,  my  lord,"  answered  Zarah. 

''  Indeed,"  said  the  duke,  '^  that  duplicate  of  thine,  if  it 
was  not  thy  very  self,  was  possessed  with  a  dumb  spirit  as 
thou  with  a  talking  one.     I  am  still  in  the  mind  that  you 


m  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

are  the  same  ;  and  that  Satan,  always  so  powerful  with  your 
sex,  had  art  enough  on  our  former  meeting  to  make  thee 
hold  thy  tongue." 

^'  Believe  what  you  will  of  it,  my  lord,"  replied  Zarah, 
"^  it  cannot  change  the  truth.  And  now,  my  lord,  I  bid  you 
farewell.     Have  you  any  commands  to  Mauritania  ?  " 

^'  Tarry  a  little,  my  princess,"  said  the  duke  ;  ''  and  re- 
member, that  you  have  voluntarily  entered  yourself  as  pledge 
for  another,  and  are  justly  subjected  to  any  penalty  which  it 
is  my  pleasure  to  exact.  None  must  brave  Buckingham  with 
impunity." 

"  I  am  in  no  hurry  to  depart,  if  your  Grace  hath  any  com- 
mands for  me." 

'*  What  !  are  you  neither  afraid  of  my  resentment  nor  of 
my  love,  fair  Zarah  ?  "  said  the  duke. 

"  Of  neither,  by  this  glove,"  answered  the  lady.  ^'  Your 
resentment  must  be  a  petty  passion  indeed,  if  it  could  stoop 
to  such  a  helpless  object  as  I  am  ;  and  for  your  love — good 
lack  !  good  lack  ! " 

^'  And  why  good  lack,  with  such  a  tone  of  contempt, 
lady  ?  "  said  the  duke,  piqued  in  spite  of  himself.  "  Think 
you  Buckingham  cannot  love,  or  has  never  been  beloved  in 
return  ?  " 

'^  He  may  have  thought  himself  beloved,"  said  the  maid- 
en ;  *^  but  by  what  slight  creatures  ! — things  whose  heads 
could  be  rendered  giddy  by  a  playhouse  rant,  whose  brains 
were  only  filled  with  red-heeled  shoes  and  satin  buskins, 
and  who  run  altogether  mad  on  the  argument  of  a  George 
and  a  star." 

''  And  are  there  no  such  frail  fair  ones  in  your  climate, 
most  scornful  princess  ?  "  said  the  duke. 

'^  There  are,"  said  the  lady  ;  ^'  but  men  rate  them  as  par- 
rots and  monkeys — things  without  either  sense  or  soul,  head 
or  heart.  The  nearness  we  bear  to  the  sun  has  purified, 
while  it  strengthens,  our  passions.  The  icicles  of  your 
frozen  climate  shall  as  soon  hammer  hot  bars  into  plow- 
shares as  shall  the  foppery  and  folly  of  your  pretended  gal- 
lantry make  an  instant^s  impression  on  a  breast  like  mine." 

'*  You  speak  like  one  who  knows  what  passion  is,"  said 
the  duke.  "Sit  down,  fair  lady,  and  grieve  not  that  I  de- 
tained you.  Who  can  consent  to  part  with  a  tongue  of  so 
much  melody  or  an  eye  of  such  expressive  eloquence  !  You 
have  known,  then,  what  it  is  to  love  ?" 

''  I  know — no  matter  if  by  experience  or  through  the  re- 
port of  others — but  I  do  know,  that  to  love  as  I  would  love 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  455 

would  be  to  yield  not  an  iota  to  avarice,  not  one  inch  to 
vanity,  not  to  sacrifice  the  slightest  feeling  to  interest  or  to 
ambition  ;  but  to  give  up  all  to  fidelity  of  heart  and  re- 
ciprocal affection/' 

^^And  how  many  women,  think  you,  are  capable  of  feel- 
ing such  disinterested  passion  ?  " 

'^  More,  by  thousands,  than  there  are  men  who  merit  it," 
answered  Zarah.  '^Alas  !  how  often  do  you  see  the  female, 
pale,  and  wretched,  and  degraded,  still  following  with  patient 
constancy  the  footsteps  of  some  predominating  tyrant,  and 
submitting  to  all  his  injustice  with  the  endurance  of  a  faith- 
ful and  misused  spaniel,  which  prizes  a  look  from  his  master, 
though  the  surliest  groom  that  ever  disgraced  humanity, 
more  than  all  the  pleasures  which  the  world  besides  can  fur- 
nish him  ?  Think  what  such  would  be  to  one  who  merited 
and  repaid  her  devotion/' 

"  Perhaps  the  very  reverse,''  said  the  duke  ^^  and  for  your 
simile,  I  can  see  little  resemblance.  I  cannot  charge  my 
spaniel  with  any  perfidy  ;  but  for  my  mistresses — to  confess 
truth,  I  must  always  be  in  a  cursed  hurry  if  I  would  have 
the  credit  of  changing  them  before  they  leave  me." 

'*And  they  serve  you  but  rightly,  my  lord,"  answered  the 
lady  ;  "  for  what  are  you  ?  Nay,  frown  not ;  for  you  must 
hear  the  truth  for  once.  Nature  has  done  its  part,  and  made 
a  fair  outside,  and  courtly  education  hath  added  its  share. 
You  are  noble,  it  is  the  accident  of  birth  ;  handsome,  it  is 
the  caprice  of  nature  ;  generous,  because  to  give  is  more  easy 
than  to  refuse  ;  well-apparelled,  it  is  to  the  credit  of  your 
tailor  ;  well-natured  in  the  main,  because  you  have  youth  and 
health  ;  brave,  because  to  be  otherwise  were  to  be  degraded  ; 
and  witty,  because  you  cannot  help  it." 

The  duke  darted  a  glance  on  one  of  the  large  mirrors. 
"Noble,  and  handsome,  and  court-like,  generous,  well-at- 
tired, good-humored,  brave,  and  witty  !  You  allow  me 
more,  madam,  than  I  have  the  slightest  pretension  to,  and 
surely  enough  to  make  my  way,  at  some  point  at  least,  to 
female  favor." 

"  I  have  neither  allowed  you  a  heart  or  a  head/'  said  Zarah, 
calmly.  '*^Nay,  never  redden  as  if  you  would  fly  at  me.  I 
say  not  but  nature  may  have  given  you  both  ;  but  folly  has 
confounded  the  one,  and  selfishness  perverted  the  other. 
The  man  whom  I  call  deserving  the  name  is  one  whose 
thoughts  and  exertions  are  for  others  rather  than  himself, 
whose  high  purpose  is  adopted  on  just  principles,  and  never 
abandoned  while  Heavea  or  earth  affords  means  of  accom- 


456  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

plishing  it.  He  is  one  who  will  neither  seek  an  indirect  ad- 
vantage by  a  specious  road  nor  take  an  evil  path  to  gain  a 
real  good  purpose.  Such  a  man  were  one  for  whom  a 
woman's  heart  should  beat  constant  while  he  breathes,  and 
break  when  he  dies/' 

She  spoke  with  so  much  energy  that  the  water  sparkled  in 
her  eyes,  and  her  cheek  colored  with  the  vehemence  of  her 
feelings. 

'^  You  speak  "  said  the  duke,  '''as  if  you  had  yourself  a 
heart  which  could  pay  the  full  tribute  to  the  merit  which  you 
describe  so  warmly. '^ 

*^And  have  I  not  ? "  she  said,  laying  her  hand  on  her 
bosom.  '^  Here  beats  one  that  would  bear  me  out  in  what 
I  have  said,  whether  in  life  or  in  death  \" 

''Were  it  in  my  power,"  said  the  duke,  who  began  to  get 
farther  interested  in  his  visitor  than  he  could  at  first  have 
thought  possible — ''were  it  in  my  power  to  deserve  such 
faithful  attachment,  methinks  it  should  be  my  care  to  re- 
quite it." 

"Your  wealth,  your  titles,  your  reputation  as  a  gallant — 
all  you  possess  were  too  little  to  merit  such  sincere  affection. '^ 

"Come,  fair  lady,'' said  the  duke,  a  good  deal  piqued, 
"  do  not  be  quite  so  disdainful.  Bethink  you,  that  if  your  love 
be  as  pure  as  coined  gold,  still  a  poor  fellow  like  myself  may 
offer  you  an  equivalent  in  silver.  The  quantity  of  my  af- 
fection must  make  up  for  its  quality." 

"But  I  am  not  carrying  my  affection  to  market,  my  lord, 
and  therefore  I  need  none  of  the  base  coin  you  offer  in 
change  for  it." 

"  How  do  I  know  that,  my  fairest  ?  "  said  the  duke.  "  This 
is  the  realm  of  Paphos.  You  have  invaded  it,  with  what 
purpose  you  best  know  ;  but  I  think  with  none  consistent 
with  your  present  assumption  of  cruelty.  Come — come,  eyes 
that  are  so  intelligent  can  laugh  with  delight  as  well  as 
gleam  with  scorn  and  anger.  You  are  here  a  waif  on 
Cupid's  manor,  and  I  must  seize  on  you  in  name  of  the 
deity." 

"  Do  not  think  of  touching  me,  my  lord,"  said  the  lady. 
"Approach  me  not,  if  you  would  hope  to  learn  the  purpose 
of  my  being  here.  Your  Grace  may  suppose  yourself  a 
Solomon,  if  you  please  ;  but  I  am  no  traveling  princess, 
come  from  distant  climes  either  to  flatter  your  pride  or 
wonder  at  your  glory." 

"  A  defiance,  by  Jupiter  !  "  said  the  duke. 

"You  mistake  the  signal,"  said  the  "  dark  ladye  ;  "  "  I 


PEVEEIL  OF  THE  PEAK  467 

came  not  here  without  taking  sufficient  precautions  for  my 
retreat/"* 

"  You  mouth  it  bravely/'  said  the  duke  ;  '^  but  never  for- 
tress so  boasted  its  resources  but  the  garrison  had  some 
thoughts  of  surrender.     Thus  I  open  the  first  parallel/' 

They  had  been  hitherto  divided  from  each  other  by  a  long 
narrow  table,  which,  placed  in  the  recess  of  the  large  case- 
ment we  have  mentioned,  had  formed  a  sort  of  barrier  on 
the  lady's  side  against  the  adventurous  gallant.  The  duke 
went  hastily  to  remove  it  as  he  spoke  ;  but,  attentive  to  all 
his  motions,  his  visitor  instantly  darted  through  the  half- 
open  window. 

Buckingham  uttered  a  cry  of  horror  and  surprise,  having 
no  doubt  at  first  that  she  had  precipitated  herself  from  a 
height  of  at  least  fourteen  feet,  for  so  far  the  window  was 
distant  from  the  ground.  But  when  he  sprung  to  the  spot, 
he  perceived,  to  his  astonishment,  that  she  had  effected  her 
descent  with  equal  agility  and  safety. 

The  outside  of  this  stately  mansion  was  decorated  with  a 
quantity  of  carving,  in  the  mixed  state,  betwixt  the  Gothic 
and  Grecian  styles,  which  marks  the  age  of  Elizabeth  and 
her  successor  ;  and  though  the  feat  seemed  a  surprising  one, 
the  projections  of  these  ornaments  were  sufficient  to  afford 
footing  to  a  creature  so  light  and  active,  even  in  her  hasty 
descent. 

,.  Inflamed  alike  by  mortification  and  curiosity,  Bucking- 
ham at  first  entertained  some  thought  of  following  her  by 
the  same  dangerous  route,  and  had  actually  got  upon  the 
sill  of  the  window  for  that  purpose  ;  and  was  contemplating 
what  might  be  his  next  safe  movement,  when,  from  a 
neighboring  thicket  of  shrubs,  amongst  which  his  visitor  had 
disappeared,  he  heard  her  chant  a  verse  of  a  comic  song, 
then  much  in  fashion,  concerning  a  despairing  lover  who 
had  recourse  to  a  precipice — 

"  But  when  he  came  near, 

Beholding  how  steep  ,,     .  . 

The  sides  did  appear,  _.{<•>    .^^(T; 

And  the  bottom  how  deep  ;\.  .*      ' 
Though  his  suit  was  rejected, 
He  sadly  reflected, 
That  a  lover  forsaken 

A  new  love  may  get ; 
But  a  neck  that's  once  broken 
Can  never  be  set." 

The  duke  could  not  help  laughing,  though  much  against 
his  will,  at  the  resemblance  which  the  verses  bore  to  his  own 


458  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

absurd  situation,  and  stepping  back  into  the  apartment,  de- 
sisted from  an  attempt  which  might  hare  proved  dangerous 
as  well  as  ridiculous.  He  called  his  attendants,  and  con- 
tented himself  with  watching  the  little  thicket,  unwilling 
to  think  that  a  female  who  had  thrown  herself  in  a  great 
measure  into  his  way  meant  absolutely  to  mortify  him  by  a 
retreat. 

That  question  was  determined  in  an  instant.  A  form, 
wrapped  in  a  mantle,  with  a  slouched  hat  and  shadowy 
plume,  issued  from  the  bushes,  and  was  lost  in  a  moment 
amongst  the  ruins  of  ancient  and  of  modern  buildings  with 
which,  as  we  have  already  stated,  the  demesne  formerly 
termed  York  House  was  now  encumbered  in  all  directions. 

The  duke^s  servants,  who  had.  obeyed  his  impatient  sum- 
mons, were  hastily  directed  to  search  for  this  tantalizing 
siren  in  every  direction.  Their  master,  in  the  mean  time, 
eager  and  vehement  in  every  new  pursuit,  but  especially 
when  his  vanity  was  piqued,  encouraged  their  diligence  by 
bribes,  and  threats,  and  commands.  All  was  in  vain.  They 
found  nothing  of  the  Mauritanian  princess,  as  she  called 
herself,  but  the  turban  and  the  veil ;  both  of  which  she  had 
left  in  the  thicket,  together  with  her  satin  slippers,  which 
articles,  doubtless,  she  had  thrown  aside  as  she  exchanged 
them  for  others  less  remarkable. 

Finding  all  his  search  in  vain,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
after  the  example  of  spoiled  children  of  all  ages  and  stations, 
gave  a  loose  to  the  frantic  vehemence  of  passion  ;  and  fiercely 
he  swore  vengeance  on  his  late  visitor,  whom  he  termed  by  a 
thousand  opprobrious  epithets,  of  which  the  elegant  phrase 
*'  jilf  was  m.ost  frequently  repeated. 

Even  Jerningham,  who  knew  the  depths  and  shallows  of 
his  master's  mood,  and  was  bold  to  fathom  them  at  almost 
every  state  of  his  passions,  kept  out  of  his  way  on  the  pres- 
ent occasion  ;  and,  cabineted  with  the  pious  old  housekeeper, 
declared  to  her,  over  a  bottle  of  ratafia,  that,  in  his  appre- 
hension, if  his  Grace  did  not  learn  to  put  some  control  on 
his  temper,  chains,  darkness,  straw,  and  Bedlam  would  be 
the  final  doom  of  the  gifted  and  admired  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham. 


CHAPTEE  XL 

Contentions  fierce, 
Ardent,  and  dire,  spring  from  no  petty  cause. 

Albion. 

The  quarrels  between  man  and  wife  are  proverbial ;  but  let 
not  these  honest  folks  think  that  connections  of  a  less  per- 
manent nature  are  free  from  similar  jars.  The  frolic  of  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  and  the  subsequent  escape  of  Alice 
Bridgenorth,  had  kindled  fierce  dissension  in  Chiffinch^s 
family,  when,  on  his  arrival  in  town,  he  learned  these  two 
stunning  events.  '^  I  tell  you/^  he  said  to  his  obliging  help- 
mate, who  seemed  but  little  moved  by  all  that  he  could  say 
on  the  subject,  '*  that  your  d — d  carelessness  has  ruined  the 
work  of  years/' 

''  I  think  it  is  the  twentieth  time  you  have  said  so,'-*  re- 
plied the  dame ;  "  and  without  such  frequent  assurance,  I 
was  quite  ready  to  believe  that  a  very  trifling  matter  would 
overset  any  scheme  of  yours,  however  long  thought  of.'' 

''  How  on  earth  could  you  have  the  folly  to  let  the  duke 
into  the  house  when  you  expected  the  King  ?  "  said  the  ir- 
ritated courtier. 

*'  Lord  Chiffinch,"  answered  the  lady,  ''  ought  not  you 
to  ask  the  porter,  rather  than  me,  that  sort  of  question  ?  I 
was  putting  on  my  cap  to  receive  his  Majesty." 

'*  With  the  address  of  a  madge-howlet/'  said  Chiffinch, 
**  and  in  the  meanwhile  you  gave  the  cat  the  cream  to  keep.'^ 

"  Indeed,  Chiffinch,"  said  the  lady,  "  these  jaunts  to  the 
country  do  render  you  excessively  vulgar  !  There  is  a  bru- 
tality about  your  very  boots  !  nay,  your  muslin  ruffles,  being 
somewhat  soiled,  give  to  your  knuckles  a  sort  of  rural  rus- 
ticity, as  I  may  call  it." 

'^  It  were  a  good  deed,"  muttered  Chiffinch,  ^'  to  make 
both  boots  and  knuckles  bang  the  folly  and  affectation  out 
of  thee."  Then  speaking  aloud,  he  added,  like  a  man  who 
would  fain  break  off  an  argument,  by  extorting  from  his  ad- 
versary a  confession  that  he  has  reason  on  his  side,  ^'1  am 
sure,  Kate,  you  must  be  sensible  that  our  all  depends  on  his 
Majesty's  pleasure/* 

m 


460  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*'  Leave  that  to  me,"  said  she  ;  "  I  know  how  to  pleasure 
his  Majesty  better  than  you  can  teach  me.  Do  you  think 
his  Majesty  is  booby  enough  to  cry  like  a  schoolboy  because 
his  sparrow  has  flown  away  ?  His  Majesty  has  better  taste. 
I  am  surprised  at  you,  Chiffinch,"  she  added,  drawing  her- 
self up,  *'  who  were  once  thought  to  know  the  points  of  a 
fine  woman,  that  you  should  have  made  such  a  roaring 
about  this  country  wench.  Why,  she  has  not  even  the 
country  quality  of  being  plump  as  a  barn-door  fowl,  but  is 
more  likeui  Dunstable  lark,  that  one  must  crack  bones  and 
all  if  you  would  make  a  mouthful  of  it.  What  signifies 
whence  she  came,  or  where  she  goes  ?  There  will  be  those 
behind  that  are  much  more  worthy  of  his  Majesty's  condes- 
cending attention,  even  when  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth 
takes  the  frumps." 

"You  mean  your  neighbor.  Mistress  Nelly,"  *  said  her 
worthy  helpmate ;  "  but,  Kate,  her  date  is  out.  Wit  she 
has ;  let  her  keep  herself  warm  with  it  in  worse  company, 
for  the  cant  of  a  gang  of  strollers  is  not  language  for  a 
prince's  chamber." 

"  It  is  no  matter  what  I  mean,  or  whom  I  mean,"  said 
Mrs.  Ohiffinch  ;  "  but  I  tell  you,  Tom  Chiffinch,  that  you 
will  find  your  master  quite  consoled  for  loss  of  the  piece  of 
prudish  Puritanism  that  you  would  needs  saddle  him  with  ; 
HS  if  the  good  man  were  not  plagued  enough  with  them  in 
Parliament,  but  you  must,  foresooth,  bring  them  into  his 
very  bedchamber." 

**  Well,  Kate,"  said  Chiffinch,  "  if  a  man  were  fco  speak 
all  the  sense  of  the  seven  wise  masters,  a  woman  would  find 
nonsense  enough  to  overwhelm  him  with  ;  so  I  shall  say  no 
more,  but  that  I  would  to  Heaven  I  may  find  the  King  in 
no  worse  humor  than  you  describe  him.  I  am  commanded 
to  attend  him  down  the  river  to  the  Tower  to-day,  where  he 
is  to  make  some  survey  of  arms  and  stores.  They  are  clever 
fellows  who  contrive  to  keep  Rowley  from  engaging  in  busi- 
ness, for,  by  my  word,  he  has  a  turn  for  it." 

"  I  warrant  you,"  said  Chiffinch  the  female,  nodding,  but 
rather  to  her  own  figure  reflected  from  a  mirror  than  to  her 
politic  husband — "  I  warrant  you  we  will  find  means  of  oc- 
cupying him  that  will  sufficiently  fill  up  his  time." 

"  On  my  honor,  Kate,"  said  the  male  Chiffinch,  '^  I  find 
you  strangely  altered,  and,  to  speak  truth,  grown  most  ex- 
tremely opinionative.  I  shall  be  happy  if  you  have  good 
reason  for  your  confidence." 

*  See  Note  38.  '  '' 


PEVEBIL  OP  THE  PEAK  4&\ 

The  dame  smiled  superciliously,  but  deigned  no  other 
answer,  unless  this  were  one — "  I  shall  order  a  boat  to  go 
upon  the  Thames  to-day  with  the  royal  party." 

''  Take  care  what  you  do,  Kate  ;  there  are  none  dare  pre- 
sume so  far  but  women  of  the  first  rank.  Duchess  of  Bolton, 
of  Buckingham,  of " 

'^  Who  cares  for  a  list  of  names  ?  Why  may  not  I  be  as 
forward  as  the  greatest  B.  amongst  your  string  of  them  ?  " 

''Nay,  faith,  thou  mayst  match  the  greatest  B.  in  court 
already,"  answered  Chiffinch  ;  ''  so  e^'en  take  thy  own  course 
of  it.  But  do  not  let  Chaubert  forget  to  get  some  collation 
ready,  and  a  souper  an  petit  convert,  in  case  it  should  be 
commanded  for  the  evening." 

•'Ay,  there  your  boasted  knowledge  of  court  matters  be- 
gins and  ends.  Chiffinch,  Chaubert,  &  Company  ;  dissolve 
that  partnership,  and  you  break  Tom  Chiffinch  for  a  cour- 
tier." 

'*  Amen,  Kate,"  replied  Chiffinch  ;  "  and  let  me  tell  you, 
it  is  as  safe  to  rely  on  another  person's  fingers  as  on  our  own 
wit.  But  I  must  give  orders  for  the  water.  If  you  will 
take  the  pinnace,  there  are  the  cloth-of-gold  cushions  in  the 
chapel  may  serve  to  cover  the  benches  for  the  day.  They 
are  never  wanted  where  they  lie,  so  you  may  make  free  with 
them  too." 

Madam  Chiffinch  accordingly  mingled  with  the  flotilla 
which  attended'  the  King  on  his  voyage  down  the  Thames, 
amongst  whom  was  the  Queen,  attended  by  some  of  the 
principal  ladies  of  the  court.  The  little  plump  Cleopatra, 
dressed  to  as  much  advantage  as  her  taste  could  devise,  and 
seated  upon  her  embroidered  cushions  like  Yenus  in  her 
shell,  neglected  nothing  that  effrontery  and  minauderie 
could  perform  to  draw  upon  herself  some  portion  of  the 
King's  observation ;  but  Charles  was  not  in  the  vein,  and 
did  not  even  pay  her  the  slightest  passing  attention  of  any 
kind,  until  her  boatmen,  having  ventured  to  approach  nearer 
to  the  Queen's  barge  than  etiquette  permitted,  received  a 
peremptory  order  to  back  their  oars  and  fall  out  of  the  royal 
procession.  Madam  Chiffinch  cried  for  spite,  and  trans- 
gressed Solomon's  warning  by  cursing  the  King  in  her  heart ; 
but  had  no  better  course  than  to  return  to  Westminster  and 
direct  Chaubert's  preparations  for  the  evening. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  royal  barge  paused  at  the  Tower  : 
and,  accompanied  by  a  laughing  train  of  ladies  and  of  cour- 
tiers, the  gay  monarch  made  the  echoes  of  the  old  prison- , 
towers  ring  with  the  unwonted  sounds  of  mirth  and  revelry. 


462  WAVERLBT  NOVELS 

As  they  ascended  from  the  river-side  to  the  center  of  the 
building,  where  the  fine  old  keep  of  William  the  Conqueror, 
called  the  White  Tower,  predominates  over  the  exterior  de- 
fenses. Heaven  only  knows  how  many  gallant  jests,  good  or 
bad,  were  run  on  the  comparison  of  his  Majesty's  state-prison 
to  that  of  Cupid,  and  what  killing  similes  were  drawn  between 
the  ladies'  eyes  and  the  guns  of  the  fortress,  which,  spoken 
with  a  fashionable  congee,  and  listened  to  with  a  smile  from 
a  fair  lady,  formed  the  fine  conversation  of  the  day. 

This  gay  swarm  of  flutterers  did  not,  however,  attend  close 
on  the  King's  person,  though  they  had  accompanied  him 
upon  his  party  on  the  river.  Charles,  who  often  formed 
manly  and  sensible  resolutions,  though  he  was  too  easily 
diverted  from  them  by  indolence  or  pleasure,  had  some  de- 
sire to  make  himself  personally  acquainted  with  the  state  of 
the  military  stores,  arms,  etc.,  of  which  the  Tower  was  then, 
as  now,  the  magazine  ;  and,  although  he  had  brought  with 
him  the  usual  number  of  his  courtiers,  only  three  or  four 
attended  him  on  the  scrutiny  which  he  intended.  Whilst, 
therefore,  the  rest  of  the  train  amused  themselves  as  they 
might  in  other  parts  of  the  Tower,  the  King,  accompanied  by 
the  Dukes  of  Buckingham,  Ormond,  and  one  or  two  others, 
walked  through  the  well-known  hall,  in  which  is  preserved 
the  most  splendid  magazine  of  arms  in  the  world,  and  which, 
though  far  from  exhibiting  its  present  extraordinary  state  of 
perfection,  was  even  then  an  arsenal  worthy  of  the  great 
nation  to  which  it  belonged. 

The  Duke  of  Ormond,  well  known  for  his  services  during 
the  Great  Civil  War,  was,  as  we  have  elsewhere  noticed,  at 
present  rather  on  cold  terms  with  his  sovereign,  who  never- 
theless asked  his  advice  on  many  occasions,  and  who  required 
it  on  the  present  amongst  others,  when  it  was  not  a  little 
feared  that  the  Parliament,  in  their  zeal  for  the  Protestant 
religion,  might  desire  to  take  the  magazines  of  arms  and 
ammunition  under  their  own  exclusive  orders.  While 
Charles  sadly  hinted  at  such  a  termination  of  the  popular 
jealousies  of  the  period,  and  discussed  with  Ormond  the 
means  of  resisting  or  evading  it,  Buckingham,  falling  a  little 
behind,  amused  himself  with  ridiculing  the  antiquated  ap- 
pearance and  embarrassed  demeanor  of  the  old  warder  who 
attended  on  the  occasion,  and  who  chanced  to  be  the  very 
same  that  escorted  Julian  Peveril  to  his  present  place  of 
confinement.  The  duke  prosecuted  his  raillery  with  the 
greater  activity,  that  he  found  the  old  man,  though  restrained 
by  the  place  and  presence,  was  rather  upon  the  whole  testy. 


PEVEIUL  OF  THE  PEAK  463 

and  disposed  to  afford  what  sportsmen  call  play  to  his  perse- 
cutor. The  various  pieces  of  ancient  armor  with  which 
the  wall  was  covered  afforded  the  principal  source  of  the 
duke's  wit,  as  he  insisted  upon  knowing  from  the  old  man, 
who,  he  said,  could  best  remember  matters  from  the  days  of 
King  Arthur  downwards  at  the  least,  the  history  of  the 
different  warlike  weapons,  and  anecdotes  of  the  battles  in 
which  they  had  been  wielded.  The  old  man  obviously  suf- 
fered when  he  was  obliged,  by  repeated  questions,  to  tell  the 
legends  (often  sufficiently  absurd)  which  the  tradition  of  the 

glace  had  assigned  to  particular  relics.  Far  from  flourishing 
is  partizan  and  augmenting  the  emphasis  of  his  voice,  as 
was  and  is  the  prevailing  fashion  of  these  warlike  ciceroni, 
it  was  scarcely  possible  to  extort  from  him  a  single  word 
concerning  those  topics  on  which  their  information  is  usually 
overflowing. 

"  Do  you  know,  my  friend,"  said  the  duke  to  him  at  last, 
I  begin  to  change  my  mind  respecting  you  ?  I  supposed 
you  must  have  served  as  a  Yeoman  of  the  G-uard  since  bluff 
King  Henry's  time,  and  expected  to  hear  something  from 
you  about  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold,  and  I  thought  of 
asking  you  the  color  of  Anne  Bullen's  breast-knot,  which 
cost  the  Pope  three  kingdoms  ;  but  I  am  afraid  you  are  but 
a  novice  in  such  recollections  of  love  and  chivalry.  Art  sure 
thou  didst  not  creep  into  thy  warlike  office  from  some  dark 
shop  in  the  Tower-Hamlets,  and  that  thou  hast  not  converted 
an  unlawful  measuring-yard  into  that  glorious  halberd  ?  I 
warrant,  thou  canst  not  even  tell  one  whom  this  piece  of 
antique  panoply  pertained  to  ?  " 

The  duke  pointed  at  random  to  a  cuirass  which  hung 
amongst  others,  but  was  rather  remarkable  from  being  better 
cleaned. 

"  I  should  know  that  piece  of  iron,"  said  the  warder, 
bluntly,  yet  with  some  change  in  his  voice ;  "^^for  I  have 
known  a  man  withinside  of  it  who  would  not  have  endured 
half  the  impertinence  I  have  heard  spoken  to-day." 

The  tone  of  the  old  man,  as  well  as  the  words,  attracted 
the  attention  of  Charles  and  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  who  were 
only  two  steps  before  the  speaker.  They  both  stopped  and 
turned  round  ;  the  former  saying  at  the  same  time,  ''  How 
now,  sirrah  !  what  answers  are  these  ?  What  man  do  you 
speak  of  ?  " 

'^  Of  one  who  is  none  now,"  said  the  warder,  '^  whatever 
he  may  have  been." 

"  The  old  man  surely  speaks  of  himself/'  said  the  Puke 


m  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  Ormond,  closely  examining  the  countenance  of  the  warder, 
which  he  in  vain  endeavored  to  turn  away.  "  I  am  sure  I 
remember  these  features.  Are  not  you  my  old  friend.  Major 
Coleby?^' 

"  I  wish  your  Grace's  memory  had  been  less  accurate/' 
said  the  old  man,  coloring  deeply  and  fixing  his  eyes  on  the 
ground. 

The  King  was  greatly  shocked.  '^  Good  God/'  he  said, 
*^  the  gallant  Major  Coleby,  who  joined  us  with  his  four  sons 
and  a  hundred  and  fifty  men  at  Warrington  ?  And  is  this 
all  we  could  do  for  an  old  Worcester  friend  ?  " 

The  tears  rushed  thick  into  the  old  man's  eyes  as  he  said, 
in  broken  accents,  '^  Never  mind  me,  sire  ;  lam  well  enough 
here — a  worn-our  soldier  rusting  among  old  armor.  Where 
one  old  Cavalier  is  better,  there  are  twenty  worse.  I  am 
sorry  your  Majesty  should  know  anything  of  it,  since  it 
grieves  you." 

With  that  kindness  which  was  a  redeeming  point  of  his 
character,  Charles,  while  the  old  man  was  speaking,  took 
the  partizan  from  him  with  his  own  hand,  and  put  it  into 
that  of  Buckingham,  saying,  ^^What  Coleby's  hand  has 
borne,  can  disgrace  neither  yours  nor  mine,  and  you  owe 
him  this  atonement.  Time  has  been  with  him  that,  for  less 
provocation,  he  would  have  laid  it  about  your  ears," 

The  duke  bowed  deeply,  but  colored  with  resentment, 
and  took  an  immediate  opportunity  to  place  the  weapon 
carelessly  against  a  pile  of  arms.  The  King  did  not  observe 
a  contemptuous  motion,  which,  perhaps,  would  not  have 
pleased  him,  being  at  the  moment  occupied  with  the  veteran, 
whom  he  exhorted  to  lean  upon  him,  as  he  conveyed  him 
to  a  seat,  permitting  no  other  person  to  assist  him.  *'  Kest 
there,"  he  said,  ^^my  brave  old  friend  ;  and  Charles  Stuart 
must  be  poor  indeed  if  you  wear  that  dress  an  hour  longer. 
You  look  very  pale,  my  good  Coleby,  to  have  had  so  much 
color  a  few  minutes  since.  Be  not  vexed  at  what  Bucking- 
ham says ;  no  one  minds  his  folly.  You  look  worse  and 
worse.  Come — come,  you  are  too  much  hurried  by  this 
meeting.  Sit  still — do  not  rise — do  not  attempt  to  kneel. 
1  command  you  to  repose  yourself  till  I  have  make  the 
round  of  these  apartments." 

The  old  Cavalier  stooped  his  head  in  token  of  acquiescence 
in  the  command  of  his  sovereign,  but  he  raised  it  not  again. 
The  tumultuous  agitation  of  the  moment  had  been  too  much 
for  spirits  which  had  been  long  in  a  state  of  depression,  and 
health  which  was  much  decayed.     When  the  King  and  hii 


FEVER IL  OF  THE  PEAK  463 

attendants,  after  half  an  hour's  absence,  returned  to  the  spot 
where  they  had  left  the  veteran,  they  found  him  dead,  and 
already  cold,  in  the  attitude  of  one  who  has  fallen  easily 
asleep.  The  Kingr.vas  dreadfully  shocked  ;  and  it  was  with 
a  low  and  faltering  voice  that  he  directed  the  body,  in  due 
time,  to  be  honorably  buried  in  the  chapel  of  the  Tower.* 
He  was  then  silent,  until  he  attained  the  steps  in  front  of 
the  arsenal,  where  the  party  in  attendance  upon  his  person 
began  to  assemble  at  his  approach,  along  with  some  other 
persons  of  respectable  appearance,  whom  curiosity  had  at- 
tracted. 

-  ''  This  is  dreadful,''  said  the  King.  ^'  We  must  find  some 
means  of  relieving  the  distresses  and  rewarding  the  fidelity 
of  our  suffering  followers,  or  posterity  will  cry  3^.  upon  our 
memory." 

"  Your  Majesty  has  had  often  such  plans  agitated  in  your 
council,"  said  Buckingham. 

"  True,  George,"  said  the  King.  ''  I  can  saMj  say  it  is 
not  my  fault.     I  have  thought  of  it  for  years." 

"  It  cannot  be  too  well  considered,"  said  Buckingham ; 
''besides,  every  year  makes  the  task  of  relief  easier." 

''True,"  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  "  by  diminishing  the 
number  of  sufferers.  Here  is  poor  old  Coleby  wiU  no  longer 
be  a  burden  to  the  crown." 

"  You  are  too  severe,  my  Lord  of  Ormond,"  said  the  King, 
"and  should  respect  the  feelings  you  trespass  on.  You  can- 
not suppose  that  we  would  have  permitted  this  poor  man  to 
hold  such  a  situation  had  we  known  of  the  circumstance  ?" 

'^  For  God's  sake,  then,  sire,"  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond, 
"turn  your  eyes,  which  have  just  rested  on  the  corpse  of  one 
old  friend,  upon  the  distresses  of  others.  Here  is  the  valiant 
old  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  who  fought  through  the 
whole  war,  wherever  blows  were  going,  and  was  the  last  man, 
I  believe,  in  England  who  laid  down  his  arms  ;  here  ip  his  son, 
of  whom  I  have  the  highest  accounts,  as  a  gallant  of  spirit, 
accomplishments,  and  courage  ;  here  is  the  unfortunate  house 
of  Derby — for  pity's  sake,  interfere  in  behalf  of  these  victims, 
whom  the  folds  of  this  hydra-plot  have  entangled,  iri  order 
to  crush  them  to  death  ;  rebuke  the  fiends  that  are  seeking 
to  devour  their  lives,  and  disappoint  the  harpies  that  are 
gaping  for  their  property.     This  very  day  seven-nigh^,  the 

*  A  story  of  this  nature  is  current  in  the  legends  of  the  Tower. 
The  affecting  circumstances  are,  I  believe,  recorded  in  one  of  the 
little  manuals  v^rhich  are  jjut  into  the  hands  of  visitors,  but  are  not 
to  be  found  in  the  later  editionsi>«^ti  iejiolu J  tmii  " 
30 


^66  WAYEELEY  NOVELS 

unfortunate  family,  father  and  son,  are  to  be  brought  upon 
trial  for  crimes  of  which  they  are  as  guiltless,  I  boldly  pro- 
nounce, as  any  who  stand  in  this  presence.  For  God's  sake, 
sire,  let  us  hope  that,  should  the  prejuiices  of  the  people 
condemn  them,  as  it  has  done  others,  you  will  at  last  step 
between  the  blood-hunters  and  their  prey/' 

The  king  looked,  as  he  really  was,  exceedingly  perplexed. 

Buckingham,  between  whom  and  Ormond  there  existed  a 
constant  and  almost  mortal  quarrel,  interfered  to  effect  a 
diversion  in  Charles's  favor.  '^  Your  Majesty's  royal  benevo- 
lence," he  said,  '^  needs  never  want  exercise,  while  the  Duke 
of  Ormond  is  near  your  person.  He  has  his  sleeve  cut  in  the 
old  and  ample  fashion,  that  he  may  always  have  store  of 
ruined  Cavaliers  stowed  in  it  to  produce  at  demand,  rare  old 
raw-boned  boys,  with  Malmsey  noses,  bald  heads,  spindle 
shanks,  and  merciless  histories  of  Edgehill  and  Naseby." 

"  My  sleeve  is,  I  daresay,  of  an  antique  cut,"  said  Ormond, 
looking  full  at  the  duke;  *'butlpin  neither  bravoes  nor 
ruffians  upon  it,  my  Lord  of  Buckingham,  as  I  see  fastened 
to  coats  of  the  new  mode." 

**  That  is  a  little  too  sharp  for  our  presence,  my  lord,"  said 
the  King. 

''  Not  if  I  make  my  words  good,"  said  Ormond.  *'  My 
Lord  of  Buckingham,  will  you  name  the  man  you  spoke  to  as 
you  left  the  boat  ?  " 

*^  I  spoke  to  no  one,"  said  the  duke,  hastily  ;  '^nay,  I  mis- 
take, I  remember  a  fellow  whispered  in  my  ear  that  one  who 
I  thought  had  left  London  was  still  [lingering  in  town.  A 
person  whom  I  had  business  with." 

"  Was  yon  the  messenger  ?  "  said  Ormond,  singling  out 
from  the  crowd  who  stood  in  the  courtyard  a  tall,  dark-look- 
ing man,  muffied  in  a  large  cloak,  wearing  a  broad  shadowy 
black  beaver  hat,  with  a  long  sword  of  the  Spanish  fashion  ; 
the  very  colonel,  in  short,  whom  Buckingham  had  despatched 
in  quest  of  Christian,  with  the  intention  of  detaining  him  in 
the  country. 

When  Buckingham's  eyes  had  followed  the  direction  of 
Ormond's  finger,  he  could  not  help  blushing  so  deeply  as  to 
attract  the  King's  attention. 

*'What  new  frolic  is  this,  George?"  he  said.  ''Gentle- 
men, bring  that  fellow  forward.  On  my  life,  a  truculent- 
looking  caitiff.  Hark  ye,  friend,  who  are  you  ?  If  an  honest 
man,  nature  has  forgot  to  label  it  upon  your  countenance. 
Does  none  here  know  him  ? 

♦  See  Colouel  Blood.    Note  39. 


PKVElitL  OF  THE  PEAK  46*7 

With  every  symptom  of  a  knave  complete, 
If  he  be  honest,  he's  a  devilish  cheat." 

*'He  is  well  known  to  many,  sire,"  replied  Ormond,  ^'and 
that  he  walks  in  this  area  with  his  neck  safe  and  his  limbs 
unshackled  is  an  instance,  amongst  many,  that  we  live  under 
the  sway  of  the  most  merciful  prince  of  Europe/' 

''  Odds-fish  !  who  is  the  man,  my  lord  duke  ?"  said  the 
King.  '^  Your  Grace  talks  mysteries,  Buckingham  blushes, 
and  the  rogue  himself  is  dumb." 

''That  honest  gentleman,  please  your  Majesty,"  replied 
the  Duke  of  Ormond,  ^'  whose  modesty  makes  him  mute, 
though  it  cannot  make  him  blush,  is  the  notorious  Colonel 
Blood,  as  he  calls  himself,  whose  attempt  to  possess  himself 
of  your  Majesty's  royal  crown  took  place  at  no  very  distant 
date  in  this  very  Tower  of  London." 

"  That  exploit  is  not  easily  forgotten,"  said  the  King ; 
*'  but  that  the  fellow  lives  shows  your  Grace's  clemency  as 
well  as  mine," 

"  I  cannot  deny  that  I  was  in  his  hands,  sire,"  said  Or- 
mond, '^  and  had  certainly  been  murdered  by  him,  had  he 
chosen  to  take  my  life  on  the  spot,  instead  of  destining  me — 
I  thank  him  for  the  honor — to  be  hanged  at  Tyburn.  I  had 
certainly  been  sped,  if  he  had  thought  me  worth  knife  or 
pistol,  or  anything  short  of  the  cord.  Look  at  him,  sire  ! 
If  the  rascal  dared,  he  would  say  at  this  moment,  like  Caliban 
in  the  play,  '  Ho — ho,  I  would  I  had  done  it ! ' " 

''Why,  odds-fish!"  answered  the  King,  "he  hath  a 
villainous  sneer,  my  lord,  which  seems  to  say  as  much  ;  but, 
my  lord  duke,  we  have  pardoned  him,  and  so  has  your 
Grace." 

"  It  would  ill  have  become  me,"  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond, 
"  to  have  been  severe  in  prosecuting  an  attempt  on  my  poor 
life,  when  your  Majesty  was  pleased  to  remit  his  more  out- 
rageous and  insolent  attempt  upon  your  royal  crown.  But 
I  must  conceive  it  as  a  piece  of  supreme  insolence  on  the 
part  of  this  bloodthirsty  bully,  by  whomsoever  he  may  be 
now  backed,  to  appear  in  the  Tower,  which  was  the  theater 
of  one  of  his  villainies,  or  before  me,  who  was  wellnigh  the 
victim  of  another." 

"  It  shall.be  amended  in  future,"  said  the  King.  "  Hark 
ye,  sirrah  Blood,  if  you  again  presume  to  thrust  yourself  in 
the  way  you  have  done  but  now,  I  will  have  the  hangman's 
knife  and  your  knavish  ears  made  acquainted." 

Blood  bowed,  and,  with  a  coolness  of  impudence  which 
did  his  nerves  great  honor,  he  said  he  had  only  come  to  the 


468  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

Tower  accidentally,  to  communicate  with  a  particular  friend 
on  business  of  importance.  "  My  Lord  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham," he  said,  "  knew  he  had  no  other  intentions." 

"  Get  you  gone,  you  scoundrelly  cut-throat,"  said  the 
duke,  as  much  impatient  of  Colonel  Blood^s  claim  of  acquaint- 
ance as  a  town-rake  of  the  low  and  blackguard  companions 
of  his  midnight  rambles,  when  they  accost  him  in  daylight 
amidst  better  company  ;  ^*  if  you  dare  to  quote  my  name 
again,  I  will  have  you  thrown  into  the  Thames." 

Blood,  thus  repulsed,  turned  round  with  the  most  insolent 
composure  and  walked  away  down  from  the  parade,  all  men 
looking  at  him,  as  at  some  strange  and  monstrous  prodigy, 
so  much  was  he  renowned  for  daring  and  desperate  villainy. 
Some  even  followed  him,  to  have  a  better  survey  of  the 
notorious  Colonel  Blood,  like  the  smaller  tribe  of  birds  which 
keep  fluttering  round  an  owl  when  he  appears  in  the  light  of 
the  sun.  But  as,  in  the  latter  case,  these  thoughtless  flut- 
terers  are  careful  to  keep  out  of  reach  of  the  beak  and  claws 
of  the  bird  of  Minerva,  so  none  of  those  who  followed  and 
gazed  on  Blood  as  something  ominous  cared  to  bandy  looks 
with  him,  or  to  endure  and  return  the  lowering  and  deadly 
glances  which  he  shot  from  time  to  time  on  those  who 
pressed  nearest  to  him.  He  stalked  on  in  this  manner,  like 
a  daunted  yet  sullen  wolf,  afraid  to  stop,  yet  unwilling  to 
fly,  until  he  reached  the  Traitor's  Gate,  and  getting  on 
board  a  sculler  which  waited  for  him,  he  disappeared  from 
their  eyes. 

Charles  would  fain  have  obliterated  all  recollection  of  his 
appearance  by  the  observation,  ''It  were  shame  that  such  a 
reprobate  scoundrel  should  be  the  subject  of  discord  between 
two  noblemen  of  distinction" ;  and  he  recommended  to  the 
Dukes  of  Buckingham  and  Ormond  to  join  hands,  and 
forget  a  misunderstanding  which  rose  on  so  unworthy  a 
subject. 

Buckingham  answered  carelessly,  "That  the  Duke  of 
Ormond's  honored  white  hairs  were  a  sufi&cient. apology  for 
his  making  the  first  overtures  to  a  reconciliation,"  and  he 
held  out  his  hand  accordingly. 

But  Ormond  only  bowed  in  return,  and  said,  ''  The  King 
had  no  cause  to  expect  that  the  court  would  be  disturbed  by 
his  personal  resentments,  since  time  would  not  yield  him 
back  twenty  years,  nor  the  grave  restore  his  gallant  son 
Ossory.  As  to  the  ruffian  who  had  intruded  himself  there, 
he  was  obliged  to  him,  since,  by  showing  that  his  Majesty's 
clemency  extended  even  to  the  very  worst  of  criminals,  he 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  469 

strengthened  his  hopes  of  obtaining  the  King's  favor  for 
such  of  his  innocent  friends  as  were  now  in  prison,  and  in 
danger,  from  the  odious  charges  brought  against  them  on 
the  score  of  the  Popish  Plot/' 

The  King  made  no  other  answer  to  this  insinuation  than 
by  directing  that  the  company  should  embark  for  their  re- 
turn to  Whitehall  ;  and  thus  took  leave  of  the  officers  of  the 
Tower  who  were  in  attendance  with  one  of  those  well-turned 
compliments  to  their  discharge  of  duty  which  no  man  knew 
better  how  to  express  ;  and  issued  at  the  same  time  strict  and 
anxious  orders  for  protection  and  defense  of  the  important 
fortress  confided  to  them,  and  all  which  it  contained. 

Before  he  parted  with  Ormond  on  their  arrival  at  White- 
hall, he  turned  round  to  him,  as  one  who  has  made  up  his 
resolution,  and  said,  ^'  Be  satisfied,  my  lord  duke,  our  friends ' 
case  shall  be  looked  to." 

In  the  same  evening  the  Attorney-General,  and  North, 
Lojd  Chief-Justice  of  the  Common  Pleas,  had  orders,  with 
all  secrecy,  to  meet  his  Majesty  that  evening  on  especial 
matters  of  state  at  the  apartments  of  Chiffinch,  the  center  of 
all  affairs,  whether  of  gallantry  or  business. 


^,  CHAPTER  Xm 

Yet,  Corah,  thou  shalt  from  oblivion 
Erect  thyself,  thou  monumental  brass, 
High  as  the  serpent  of  thy  metal  made. 
While  nations  stand  secure  beneath  thy  shade  I 

Absalom  and  Achitophel. 

The  morning  which  Charles  had  spent  in  visiting  the  Tower 
had  been  very  differently  employed  by  those  unhappy  indi- 
viduals whom  their  bad  fate,  and  the  singular  temper  of  the 
times,  had  made  the  innocent  tenants  of  that  state  prison, 
and  who  had  received  official  notice  that  they  were  to  stand 
their  trial  in  the  Court  of  King's  Bench  at  Westminster  on 
the  seventh  succeeding  day.  The  stout  old  Cavalier  at  first 
only  railed  at  the  officer  for  spoiling  his  breakfast  with  the 
news,  but  evinced  great  feeling  when  he  was  told  that  Julian 
was  to  be  put  under  the  same  indictment. 

We  intend  to  dwell  only  very  generally  on  the  nature  of 
their  trial,  which  corresponded,  in  the  outline,  with  almost 
all  those  that  took  place  during  the  prevalence  of  the  Popish 
Plot.  That  is,  one  or  two  infamous  and  perjured  evidences, 
whose  profession  of  common  informers  had  become  fright- 
fully lucrative,  made  oath  to  the  prisoners'  having  expressed 
themselves  interested  in  the  great  confederacy  of  the  Cath- 
olics. A  number  of  others  brought  forward  facts  or  suspi- 
cions, affecting  the  character  of  the  parties  as  honest 
Protestants"  and  good  subjects  ;  and  betwixt  the  direct  and 
presumptive  evidence  enough  was  usually  extracted  for  justify- 
ing, to  a  corrupted  court  and  a  perjured  jury,  the  fatal  ver- 
dict of  •''  Guilty.'' 

The  fury  of  the  people  had,  however,  now  begun  to  pass 
away,  exhausted  even  by  its  own  violence.  The  English 
nation  differs  from  all  others,  indeed  even  from  those  of  the 
sister  kingdoms,  in  being  very  easily  sated  with  punishment, 
even  when  they  suppose  it  most  merited.  Other  nations 
are  like  the  tamed  tiger,  which,  when  once  its  native  ap- 
petite for  slaughter  is  indulged  in  one  instance,  rushes  on 
in  promiscuous  ravages.  But  the  English  public  have  always 
rather  resembled  what  is  told  of  the  sleuth-dog,  which,  eager, 
fierce,  and  clamorous  in  pursuit  of  his  prey,  desists,  from  it 
80  soon  as  blood  is  sprinkled  upon  his  path, 

470 


PEVEEIL  OF  THE  PEAK  471 

Men's  minds  were  now  beginning  to  cool ;  the  character 
of  the  witnesses  was  more  closely  sifted,  their  testimonies 
did  not  in  all  cases  tally,  and  a  wholesome  suspicion  began 
to  be  entertained  of  men  who  wonld  never  say  they  had  made 
a  full  discovery  of  all  they  knew,  but  avowedly  reserved 
some  point  of  evidence  to  bear  on  future  trials. 

The  King  also,  who  had  lain  passive  during  the  first  burst 
of  popular  fury,  was  now  beginning  to  bestir  himself,  which 
produced  a  marked  effect  on  the  conduct  of  the  crown 
counsel,  and  even  the  judges.  Sir  George  Wakeman  had 
been  acquitted  in  spite  of  Oates's  direct  testimony  ;  and 
public  attention  was  strongly  excited  concerning  the  event 
of  the  next  trial,  which  chanced  to  be  that  of  the  Peverils, 
father  and  son,  with  whom,  I  know  not  from  what  con- 
catenation, little  Hudson  the  dwarf  was  placed  at  the  bar 
of  the  Court  of  King's  Bench. 

It  was  a  piteous  sight  to  behold  a  father  and  son,  who 
had  been  so  long  separated,  meet  under  circumstances  so 
melancholy ;  and  many  tears  were  shed  when  the  majestic 
old  man — for  such  he  was,  though  now  broken  with  years — 
folded  his  son  to  his  bosom,  with  a  mixture  of  joy,  affection, 
and  of  bitter  anticipation  of  the  event  of  the  impending 
trial.  There  was  a  feeling  in  the  court  that  for  a  moment 
overcame  every  prejudice  and  party  feeling.  Many  specta- 
tors shed  tears ;  and  there  was  even  a  low  moaning,  as  of 
those  who  weep  aloud. 

Such  as  felt  themselves  sufficiently  at  ease  to  remark  the 
conduct  of  poor  little  Geoffrey  Hudson,  who  was  scarcely 
observed  amid  the  preponderating  interest  created  by  his 
companions  in  misfortune,  could  not  but  notice  a  strong 
degree  of  mortification  on  the  part  of  that  diminutive  gentle- 
man. He  had  soothed  his  great  mind  by  the  thoughts  of 
playing  the  character  which  he  was  called  on  to  sustain  in  a 
manner  which  should  be  long  remembered  in  that  place  : 
and  on  his  entrance  had  saluted  the  numerous  spectators,  as 
well  as  the  court,  with  a  cavalier  air,  which  he  meant  should 
express  grace,  high-breeding,  perfect  coolness,  with  a  noble 
disregard  to  the  issue  of  their  proceedings.  But  his  little 
person  was  so  obscured  and  jostled  aside,  on  the  meeting  of 
the  father  and  son,  who  had  been  brought  in  different  boats 
from  the  Tower  and  placed  at  the  bar  at  the  same  moment, 
that  his  distress  and  his  dignity  were  alike  thrown  into  the 
background,  and  attracted  neither  sympathy  nor  admiration. 

The  dwarfs  wisest  way  to  attract  attention  would  have 
been  to  remain  quiet,  when  so  remarkable  an  exterior  would 


472  WA  VEULEY  NOVELS 

certainly  have  received  in  its  turn  the  share  of  public  notice 
which  he  so  eagerly  coveted.  But  when  did  personal  vanity 
listen  to  the  suggestions  of  prudence  ?  Our  impatient 
friend  scrambled,  with  some  difficulty,  on  the  top  of  the 
bench  intended  for  his  seat;  and  there,  *' paining  himself 
to  stand  a- tiptoe, '^  like  Chaucer^s  gallant  Sir  Chaunticlere, 
he  challenged  the  notice  of  the  audience  as  he  stood  bowing 
and  claiming  acquaintance  of  his  namesake  Sir  Geoffrey  the 
larger,  with  whose  shoulders,  notwithstanding  his  elevated 
situation,  he  was  scarcely  yet  upon  a  level. 

The  taller  knight,  whose  mind  was  occupied  in  a  very 
different  manner,  took  no  notice  of  these  advances  upon  the 
dwarf's  part,  but  sat  down  with  the  determination  rather  to 
die  on  the  spot  than  evince  any  symptoms  of  weakness  be- 
fore Roundheads  and  Presbyterians,  under  which  obnoxious 
epithets,  being  too  old-fashioned  to  find  out  party  designa- 
tions of  a  newer  date,  he  comprehended  all  persons  concerned 
in  his  present  trouble. 

By  Sir  Geoffrey  the  larger's  change  of  position,  his  face 
was  thus  brought  on  a  level  with  that  of  Sir  Geoffrey  the 
less,  who  had  an  opportunity  of  pulling  him  by  the  cloak. 
He  of  Martindale  Castle,  rather  mechanically  than  con- 
sciously, turned  his  head  towards  the  large  wrinkled  visage, 
which,  struggling  between  an  assumed  air  of  easy  import- 
ance and  an  anxious  desire  to  be  noticed,  was  grimacing 
within  a  yard  of  him.  But  neither  the  singular  physiognomy, 
the  nods  and  smiles  of  greeting  and  recognition  into  which 
it  was  wreathed,  nor  the  strange  little  form  by  which  it  was 
supported,  had  at  that  moment  the  power  of  exciting  any 
recollections  in  the  old  knight's  mind  ;  and  having  stared 
for  a  moment  at  the  poor  little  man,  his  bulky  namesake 
turned  away  his  head  without  farther  notice. 

Julian  Peveril,  the  dwarf's  more  recent  acquaintance, 
had,  even  amid  his  own  anxious  feelings,  room  for  sympathy 
with  those  of  his  little  fellow-sufferer.  As  soon  as  he  dis- 
covered that  he  was  at  the  same  terrible  bar  with  himself, 
although  he  could  not  conceive  how  their  causes  came  to  be 
conjoined,  he  acknowledged  him  hj  a  hearty  shake  of  the 
hand,  which  the  old  man  returned  with  affected  dignity  and 
real  gratitude.  '*  Worthy  youth,''  he  said,  "  thy  presence 
is  restorative,  like  the  nepenthe  of  Homer,  even  in  this 
syncope  of  our  mutual  fate.  I  am  concerned  to  see  that 
your  father  hath  not  the  same  alacrity  of  soul  as  that  of 
ours,  which  are  lodged  within  smaller  compass  ;  and  that 
he  hath  forgotten  an  ancient  comrade  and  fellow-soldier. 


PEVERIL  OF  TEE  PEAK  473 

who  now  stands  beside  him  to  perform,  perhaps,  their  last 
campaign/' 

Julian  briefly  replied  that  his  father  had  much  to  occup}- 
him.  But  the  little  man — who,  to  do  him  justice,  cared  no 
more  (in  his  own  phrase)  for  imminent  danger  or  death  than 
he  did  for  the  puncture  of  a  flea's  proboscis — did  not  so 
easily  renounce  the  secret  object  of  his  ambition,  which  was  to 
acquire  the  notice  of  the  large  and  lofty  Sir  Geoffrey  Pe^eril, 
who,  being  at  least  three  inches  taller  than  his  son,  was  in 
so  far  possessed  of  that  superior  excellence  which  the  poor 
dwarf,  in  his  secret  soul,  valued  before  all  other  .distinctions, 
although,  in  his  conversation,  he  was  constantly  depreciat- 
ing it.  ''Good  comrade  and  namesake,''  he  proceeded, 
stretching  out  his  hand  so  as  again  to  reach  the  elder  Pev- 
eril's  cloak,  *'  I  forgive  your  want  of  reminiscence,  seeing  it 
is  long  since  I  saw  you  at  Naseby,  fighting  as  if  you  had  as 
many  arms  as  the  fabled  Briareus." 

The  knight  of  Martindale,  who  had  again  turned  his  head 
towards  the  little  man,  and  had  listened,  as  if  endeavoring 
to  make  something  out  of  his  discourse,  here  interrupted 
him  with  a  peevish  "^  Pshaw  ! " 

*' Pshaw!"  repeated  Sir  Geoffrey  the  less.  ''Pshaw" 
is  an  expression  of  slight  esteem — nay,  of  contempt — in  all 
languages  ;  and  were  this  a  befitting  place " 

But  the  judges  had  now  taken  their  places,  the  criers  called 
"  Silence,"  and  the  stern  voice  of  the  Lord  Chief- justice, 
the  notorious  Scroggs,  demanded  what  the  officers  meant  by 
permitting  the  accused  to  communicate  together  in  open 
court. 

It  may  here  be  observed,  that  this  celebrated  personage 
was,  upon  the  present  occasion,  at  a  great  loss  how  to  proceed. 
A  calm,  dignified,  judicial  demeanor  was  at  no  time  the 
characteristic  of  his  official  conduct.  He  always  ranted  and 
roared  either  on  the  one  side  or  the  other  ;  and  of  late  he  had 
been  much  unsettled  which  side  to  take,  being  totally  in- 
capable of  anything  resembling  impartiality.  At  the  first 
trials  for  the  Plot,  when  the  whole  stream  of  popularity  ran 
against  the  accused,  no  one  had  been  so  loud  as  Scroggs ;  to 
attempt  to  impeach  the  character  of  Gates  or  Bedloe,  or  any 
other  leading  witness,  he  treated  as  a  crime  more  heinous 
than  it  would  have  been  to  blaspheme  the  Gospel  on  which 
they  had  been  sworn  ;  it  was  a  stifling  of  the  Plot,  or  dis- 
crediting of  the  king's  witnesses — a  crime  not  greatly,  if  at 
all,  short  of  high  treason  against  the  king  himself. 

But  of  late  a  new  light  had  begun  to  glimmer  upon  the 


474  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

understanding  of  this  interpreter  of  the  laws.  Sagacious  in 
the  signs  of  the  times,  he  began  to  see  that  the  tide  was 
turning  ;  and  that  court  favor  at  least,  and  probably  pop- 
ular opinion  also,  were  likely,  in  a  short  time,  to  declare 
against  the  witnesses  and  in  favor  of  the  accused. 

The  opinion  which  Scroggs  had  hitherto  entertained  of 
the  high  respect  in  which  Shaftesbury,  the  patron  of  the 
Plot,  was  held  by  Charles  had  been  definitively  shaken  by  a 
whisper  from  his  brother  North  to  the  following  effect  : 
''  His  lordship  has  no  more  interest  at  court  than  your  foot- 
man.'* 

This  notice,  from  a  sure  hand,  and  received  but  that  morn- 
ing,  had  put  the  judge  to  a  sore  dilemma  ;  for,  however  in- 
different to  actual  consistency,  he  was  most  anxious  to  save 
appearances.  He  could  not  but  recollect  how  violent  he  had 
been  on  former  occasions  in  favor  of  these  prosecutions  ; 
and  being  sensible  at  the  same  time  that  the  credit  of  the 
witnesses,  though  shaken  in  the  opinion  of  the  more  ju- 
dicious, was,  amongst  the  bulk  of  the  people  out  of  doors, 
as  strong  as  ever,  he  had  a  difficult  part  to  play.  His  con- 
duct, therefore,  during  the  whole  trial,  resembled  the  appear- 
ance of  a  vessel  about  to  go  upon  another  tack,  when  her 
sails  are  shivering  in  the  wind,  ere  they  have  yet  caught  the 
impulse  which  is  to  send  her  forth  in  a  new  direction.  In  a 
word,  he  was  so  uncertain  which  side  it  was  his  interest  to 
favor,  that  he  might  be  said  on  that  occasion  to  have  come 
nearer  a  state  of  total  impartiality  than  he  was  ever  capable 
of  attaining,  whether  before  or  afterwards.  This  was  shown 
by  his  bullying  now  the  accused,  and  now  the  witnesses,  like 
a  mastiff  too  much  irritated  to  lie  still  without  baying,  but 
uncertain  whom  he  shall  first  bite. 

The  indictment  was  then  read  ;  and  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril 
heard,  with  some  composure,  the  first  part  of  it,  which  stated 
him  to  have  placed  his  son  in  the  household  of  the  Countess 
of  Derby,  a  recusant  Papist,  for  the  purpose  of  aiding  the 
horrible*^  and  bloodthirsty  Popish  Plot  ;  with  having  had 
arms  and  ammunition  concealed  in  his  house  ;  and  with  re- 
ceiving a  blank  commission  from  the  Lord  Stafford,  who  had 
suffered  death  on  account  of  the  Plot.  But  when  the  charge 
went  on  to  state  that  he  had  communicated  for  the  same 
purpose  with  Geoffrey  Hudson,  sometimes  called  Sir  Geoffrey 
Hudson,  now,  or  formerly,  in  the  domestic  service  of  the 
Queen  Dowager,  he  looked  at  his  companion  as  if  he  suddenly 
recalled  him  to  remembrance,  and  broke  out  impatiently — 
**  These  lies  are  too  gross  to  require  a  moment's  considera- 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  4*76 

tioii.  I  might  have  had  euough  of  intercourse,  though  in 
nothing  but  what  was  loyal  and  innocent  with  my  noble 
kinsman,  the  late  Lord  Stafford — I  will  call  him  so  in  spite 
of  his  misfortunes — and  with  my  wife^s  relation,  the  hon- 
orable Countess  of  Derby  ;  but  what  likelihood  can  there 
be  that  I  should  have  colleagued  with  a  decrepit  buffoon, 
with  whom  I  never  had  an  instant's  communication,  save 
once  at  an  Easter  feast,  when  I  whistled  a  hornpipe,  as  he 
danced  on  a  trencher  to  amuse  the  company  ?" 

The  rage  of  the  poor  dwarf  brought  tears  in  his  eyes, 
while,  with  an  affected  laugh,  he  said  that,  instead  of  those 
juvenile  and  festive  passages.  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  might 
have  remembered  his  charging  along  with  him  at  Wiggan 
Lane. 

''On  my  word,^'  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  after  a  moment's  recol- 
lection, "  I  will  do  you  justice.  Master  Hudson — I  believe 
you  were  there  ;  I  think  I  heard  you  did  good  service.  But 
you  will  allow  you  might  have  been  near  one  without  his 
seeing  you/' 

A  sort  of  titter  ran  through  the  court  at  the  simplicity  of 
the  larger  Sir  Geoffrey's  testimony,  which  the  dwarf  en- 
deavored to  control  by  standing  on  his  tiptoes  and  looking 
fiercely  around,  as  if  to  admonish  the  laughers  that  they 
indulged  their  mirth  at  their  own  peril.  But  perceiving 
that  this  only  excited  farther  scorn,  he  composed  himself 
into  a  semblance  of  careless  contempt,  observing,  with  a 
smile,  that  no  one  feared  the  glance  of  a  chained  lion — a 
magnificent  smile,  which  rather  increased  than  diminished 
the  mirth  of  those  who  heard  it. 

Against  Julian  Peveril  there  failed  not  to  be  charged  the 
aggravated  fact,  that  he  had  been  bearer  of  letters  between 
the  Countess  of  Derby  and  other  Papists  and  priests,  engaged 
in  the  universal,  treasonable  conspiracy  of  the  Catholics  ; 
and  the  attack  of  the  house  at  Moultrassie  Hall,  with  his 
skirmish  with  Chiffinch,  and  his  assault,  as  it  was  termed, 
on  the  Person  of  John  Jenkins,  servant  of  the  Duke  oi 
Buckingham,  were  all  narrated  at  length,  as  so  many  open 
and  overt  acts  of  treasonable  import.  To  this  charge  Peveril 
contented  himself  with  pleading  ''Not  Guilty.'^ 

His  little  companion  was  not  satisfied  with  so  simple  a 
plea  ;  for  when  he  heard  it  read,  as  a  part  of  the  charge 
applying  to  him,  that  he  had  received  from  an  agent  of  the 
Plot  a  blank  commission  as  colonel  of  a  regiment  of  grena- 
diers, he  replied,  in  wrath  and  scorn,  that  if  Goliath  of  Gath 
had  come  to  him  with  such  a  proposal,  and  proffered  him 


itQ  ■  WA  VERLEY  iV  O  V^LB 

the  command  of  the  whole  sons  of  Anak  in  a  body,  he  should 
never  have  had  occasion  or  opportunity  to  repeat  the  temp- 
tation to  another.  '^  I  would  have  slain  him/'  said  the  little 
man  of  loyalty,  ''  even  where  he  stood/' 

The  charge  was  stated  anew  by  the  counsel  for  the  crown  ,- 
and  forth  came  the  notorious  Doctor  Gates,  rustling  in  the 
full  silken  canonicals  of  priesthood,  for  it  was  at  a  time  when 
he  affected  no  small  dignity  of  exterior  decoration  and 
deportment. 

This  singular  man,  who,  aided  by  the  obscure  intrigues  of 
the  Catholics  themselves  and  the  fortuitous  circumstance 
of  Godfrey's  murder,  had  been  able  to  cram  down  the  public 
throat  such  a  mass  of  absurdity  as  his  evidence  amounts  to, 
had  no  other  talent  for  imposture  than  an  impudence  which 
set  conviction  and  shame  alike  at  defiance.  A  man  of  sense 
or  reflection,  by  trying  to  give  his  plot  an  appearance  of 
more  probability,  would  most  likely  have  failed,  as  wise  men 
often  do,  in  addressing  the  multitude,  from  not  daring  to 
calculate  upon  the  prodigious  extent  of  their  credulity,  espe- 
cially where  the  figments  presented  to  them  involve  the 
fearful  and  the  terrible. 

Gates  was  by  nature  choleric,  and  the  credit  he  had  ac- 
quired made  him  insolent  and  conceited.  Even  his  exterior 
was  portentous.  A  fleece  of  white  periwig  showed  a  most 
uncouth  visage,  of  great  length,  having  the  mouth,  as  the 
organ  by  use  of  which  he  was  to  rise  to  eminence,  placed  in 
the  very  center  of  the  countenance,  and  exhibiting  to  the 
astonished  spectator  as  much  chin  below  as  there  was  nose 
and  brow  above  the  aperture.  His  pronunciation,  too,  was 
after  a  conceited  fashion  of  his  own,  in  which  he  accented 
the  vowels  in  a  manner  altogether  peculiar  to  himself. 

This  notorious  personage,  such  as  we  have  described  him, 
stood  forth  on  the  present  trial,  and  delivered  his  astonish- 
ing testimony  concerning  the  existence  of  a  Catholic  plot 
for  the  subversion  of  the  government  and  murder  of  the 
King  in  the  same  general  outline  in  which  it  may  be  found 
in  every  English  history.  But  as  the  doctor  always  had  in 
reserve  some  special  piece  of  evidence  affecting  those  imme- 
diately on  trial,  he  was  pleased,  on  the  present  occasion, 
deeply  to  inculpate  the  Countess  of  Derby.  *'  He  had  seen," 
as  he  said,  *^that  honorable  lady  when  he  was  at  the  Jesuit's 
College  at  St.  Gmer's.  She  had  sent  for  him  to  an  inn,  or 
auberge,  as  it  was  there  termed,  the  sign  of  the  Golden 
Lamb,  and  had  ordered  him  to  breakfast  in  the  same  room 
with  her  ladyship  ;  and  afterwards  told  him  that,  knowing 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  477 

he  was  trusted  by  the  fathers  of  the  society,  she  was  deter- 
mined that  he  should  have  a  siiare  of  his  secrets  also  ;  and 
therewithal,  that  she  drew  from  her  bosom  a  broad,  sharp- 
pointed  knife,  such  as  butchers  kill  sheep  with,  and  demanded 
of  him  what  he  thought  of  it  for  the  purpose  ;  and  when  he, 
the  witness,  said  *  For  what  purpose  ?'  she  rapped  him  on 
the  fingers  with  her  fan,  called  him  a  dull  fellow,  and  said 
it  was  designed  to  kill  the  King  with." 

Here  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  could  no  longer  refrain  his  in- 
dignation and  surprise.  *'  Mercy  of  Heaven  !  "  he  said,  "  did 
ever  one  hear  of  ladies  of  quality  carrying  butchering  knives 
about  them,  and  telling  every  scurvy  companion  she  meant  to 
kill  the  King  with  them  !  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  do  but 
think  if  this  is  reasonable — though,  if  the  villain  could  prove 
by  any  honest  evidence  that  my  Lady  of  Derby  ever  let  such 
a  scum  as  himself  come  to  speech  of  her,  I  would  believe  all 
he  can  say." 

"Sir  Geoffrey,"  said  the  judge,  ''rest  you  quiet.  You 
must  not  fly  out :  passion  helps  you  not  here  ;  the  doctor 
must  be  suffered  to  proceed." 

Doctor  Gates  went  on  to  state  how  the  lady  complained  of 
the  wrongs  the  house  of  Derby  had  sustained  from  the  King, 
and  the  oppression  of  her  religion,  and  boasted  of  the  schemes 
of  the  Jesuits  and  seminary  priests  ;  and  how  they  would  be 
furthered  by  her  noble  kinsmen  of  the  house  of  Stanley. 
He  finally  averred  that  both  the  countess  and  the  fathers  of 
the  seminary  abroad  founded  much  upon  the  talents  and 
courage  of  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  and  his  son,  the  latter  of 
whom  was  a  member  of  her  family.  Of  Hudson  he  only  rec- 
ollected of  having  heard  one  of  the  fathers  say,  "  that 
though  but  a  dwarf  in  stature,  he  would  prove  a  giant  in  the 
cause  of  the  church." 

When  he  had  ended  his  evidence,  there  was  a  pause,  until 
the  judge,  as  if  the  thought  had  suddenly  occurred  to  him, 
demanded  of  Dr.  Gates,  whether  he  had  ever  mentioned  the 
name  of  the  Countess  of  Derby  in  any  of  the  previous  infor- 
mations which  he  had  lodged  before  the  privy  council  and 
elsewhere  upon  this  affair. 

Gates  seemed  rather  surprised  at  the  question,  and  colored 
with  anger  as  he  answered,  in  his  peculiar  mode  of  pronun- 
ciation, "Whoy,  no,  maay  laard." 

"And,  pray,  doctor,"  said  the  judge,  "how  came  so  great 
a  revealer  of  mysteries  as  you  have  lately  proved  to  have  suf- 
fered so  material  a  circumstance  as  the  accession  of  this 
powerful  family  to  the  Plot  to  have  remained  undiscovered  ?* 


478 


WAVERLET  NOVELS 


"  Maay  laard,"  said  Gates,  with  much  effrontery,  '^  aye  do 
not  come  here  to  have  my  evidence  questioned  as  touching 
the  Plaat." 

"  I  do  not  question  your  evidence,  d'octor,"  said  Scroggs, 
for  the  time  was  not  arrived  that  he  dared  treat  him  roughly  ; 
**  nor  do  I  doubt  the  existence  of  the  ^  Plaat,'  since  it  is  your 
pleasure  to  swear  to  it.  I  would  only  have  you,  for  your 
own  sake,  and  the  satisfaction  of  all  good  Protestants,  to 
explain  why  you  have  kept  back  such  a  weighty  point  of 
information  from  the  King  and  country." 

'^  Maay  laard,"  said  Gates,  '^  I  will  tell  you  a  pretty  fable." 

'*  I  hope,"  answered  the  judge,  "  it  may  be  the  first  and 
last  which  you  shall  tell  in  this  place." 

^'  Maay  laard,"  continued  Gates,  '^  there  was  once  a  faux, 
who,  having  to  caarry  a  goose  aver  a  frazen  river,  and  being 
afraid  the  aice  would  not  bear  him  and  his  booty,  did  caarry 
aver  a  staane,  maay  laard,  in  the  first  instance,  to  prove  the 
strength  of  the  aice." 

"  So  your  former  evidence  was  but  the  stone,  and  now, 
for  the  first  time,  you  have  brought  us  the  goose  ?  "  said  Sir 
William  Scroggs  ;  ^^  to  tell  us  this,  doctor,  is  to  make  geese 
of  the  court  and  jury." 

*'  I  desoire  your  laardship's  honest  construction,"  said 
Gates,  who  saw  the  current  changing  against  him,  but  was 
determined  to  pay  the  score  with  effrontery.  **  All  men 
knaw  at  what  coast  and  praice  I  have  given  my  evidence, 
which  has  been  always,  under  Gaad,  the  means  of  awaken- 
ing this  poor  naation  to  the  dangerous  state  in  which  it 
staunds.  Many  here  knaw  that  I  have  been  obliged  to  faar- 
tify  my  ladging  at  Whitehall  against  the  bloody  Papists.  It 
was  not  to  be  thought  that  I  should  have  brought  all  the 
story  out  at  aance.  I  think  your  wisdom  would  have  advised 
me  otherwise."* 

*'  Nay,  doctor,"  said  the  judge,  "  it  is  not  for  me  to  direct 
you  in  this  affair ;  and  it  is  for  the  jury  to  believe  you  or 
not  ;  and  as  for  myself,  I  sit  here  to  do  justice  to  both.  The 
jury  have  heard  your  answer  to  my  question." 

Doctor  Gates  retired  from  the  witness-box  reddening  like 
a  turkey-cock,  as  one  totally  unused  to  have  such  accounts 
questioned  as  he  chose  to  lay  before  the  courts  of  justice  ; 
and  there  was,  perhaps  for  the  first  time,  amongst  the  coun- 
sel and  the  solicitors,  as  well  as  the  Templars  and  students 
of  law  there  present,  a  murmur,  distinct  and  audible,  un- 


*  See  Gates's  Evidence.    Note  40. 


1  iuil^^i 


PJ^VERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  47« 

favorable  to  the  character  of  the  great  father  of  the  Popish 
Plot. 

Everett  and  Dangerfield,  with  whom  the  reader  is  already 
acquainted,  were  tho  called  in  succession  to  sustain  the  ac- 
cusation. They  were  subordinate  informers — a  sort  of  un- 
der-spur-leathers,  as  the  cant  term  went — who  followed  the 
path  of  Gates,  with  all  deference  to  his  superior  genius  and 
mvention,and  made  their  own  fictions  chime  in  and  harmonize 
with  his,  as  well  as  their  talents  could  devise.  But  as  their 
evidence  had  at  no  time  received  the  full  credence  into  which 
the  impudence  of  Gates  had  cajoled  the  public,  so  they  now 
began  to  fall  into  discredit  rather  more  hastily  than  their 
prototype,  as  the  superadded  turrets  of  an  ill-constructed 
building  are  naturally  the  first  to  give  away. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Everett,  with  the  precision  of  a  hypocrite, 
and  Dangerfield,  with  the  audacity  of  a  bully,  narrated, 
with  added  circumstances  of  suspicion  and  criminality,  their 
meeting  with  Julian  Peveril  in  Liverpool,  and  again  at  Mar- 
tindale  Castle.  It  was  in  vain  they  described  the  arms  and 
accoutrements  which  they  pretended  to  have  discovered  in 
old  Sir  Geoffrey's  possession,  and  that  they  gave  a  most  dread- 
ful account  of  the  escape  of  the  younger  Peveril  from  Moul- 
crassie  Hall  by  means  of  an  armed  force. 

The  jury  listened  coldly,  and  it  was  visible  that  they  were 
but  little  moved  by  the  accusation,  especially  as  the  judge, 
always  professing  his  belief  in  the  Plot  and  his  zeal  for  the 
1  i-otestant  religion,  was  ever  and  anon  reminding  them  that 
presumptions  were  no  proofs,  that  hearsay  was  no  evidence, 
that  those  who  made  a  trade  of  discovery  were  likely  to  aid 
their  researches  by  invention,  and  that  without  doubting  the 
guilt  of  the  unfortunate  persons  at  the  bar,  he  would  gladly 
hear  some  evidence  brought  against  them  of  a  different 
nature.  "  Here  we  are  told  of  a  riot  and  an  escape  achieved 
by  the  younger  Peveril,  at  the  house  of  a  grave  and  worthy 
magistrate,  known,  I  think,  to  most  of  us.  Why,  Master 
Attorney,  bring  ye  not  Master  Bridgenorth  himself  to  prove 
the  fact,  or  all  his  household,  if  it  be  necessary  ?  A  rising 
in  arms  is  an  affair  o^er-public  to  be  left  on  the  hearsay  tale 
of  these  two  men,  though  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  sup- 
pose they  speak  one  word  more  than  they  believe.  They  are 
the  witnesses  for  the  King,  and,  what  is  equally  dear  to  us, 
the  Protestant  religion,  and  witnesses  against  a  most  foul 
and  heathenish  plot.  Gn  the  other  hand,  here  is  a  worship- 
ful old  knight,  for  such  I  must  suppose  him  to  be,  since  he 
has  bled  often  in  battle  for  the  King — such,  I  must  say,  I 


4So  wav:erlev  novels 

siippose  him  to  be,  until  he  is  proved  otherwise.  And  here 
is  his  son,  a  hopeful  young  gentleman — we  must  see  that 
they  have  right.  Master  Attorney/' 

''  Unquestionably,  my  lord,"  answer^;,  the  attorney,  *'  God 
forbid  else  !  But  we  will  make  out  these  matters  against 
these  unhappy  gentlemen  in  a  manner  more  close,  if  your 
lordship  wiir  permit  us  to  bring  in  our  evidence." 

'^  Go  on.  Master  Attorney,"  said  the  judge,  throwing  him- 
self back  in  his  seat.  '^Heaven  forbid  I  hinder  proving  the 
King's  accusation  !  I  only  say,  what  you  know  as  well  as  I, 
that  de  non  apparentihus  et  non  existentihus  eadem  est 
ratio" 

*'  We  shall  then  call  Master  Bridgenorth,  as  your  lordship 
advises,  who  I  think  is  in  waiting." 

'^No !"  answered  a  voice  from  the  crowd,  apparently  that 
of  a  female,  '^he  is  too  wise  and  too  honest  to  be  here." 

The  voice  was  distinct  as  that  of  Lady  Fairfax,  when  she 
expressed  herself  to  a  similar  effect  on  the  trial  of  Charles 
the  First ;  but  the  researches  which  were  made  on  the  pres- 
ent occasion  to  discover  the  speaker  were  unsuccessful. 

After  the  slight  confusion  occasioned  by  this  circumstance 
was  abated,  the  attorney,  who  had  been  talking  aside  with 
the  conductors  of  the  prosecution,  said,  ^^  Whoever  favored 
us  with  that  information,  my  lord,  had  good  reason  for  what 
they  said.  Master  Bridgenorth  has  become,  I  am  told,  sud- 
denly invisible  since  this  morning." 

'^  Look  you  there  now.  Master  Attorney,"  said  the  judge  ; 
^*  this  comes  of  not  keeping  the  crown  witnesses  together  and 
in  readiness.     I  am  sure  I  cannot  help  the  consequences." 

'^  Nor  I  either,  my  lord,"  said  the  attorney,  pettishly. 
"  I  could  have  proved  by  this  worshipful  gentleman.  Mas- 
ter Justice  Bridgenorth,  the  ancient  friendship  betwixt  this 
party.  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  and  the  Countess  of  Derby,  of 
whose  doings  and  intentions  Doctor  Gates  has  given  such  a 
deliberate  evidence.  I  could  have  proved  his  having  shel- 
tered her  in  his  castle  against  a  process  of  law,  and  rescued 
her,  by  force  of  arms,  from  this  very  Justice  Bridgenorth, 
not  without  actual  violence.  Moreover,  I  could  have  proved 
against  young  Peveril  the  whole  affray  charged  upon  him  by 
the  same  worshipful  evidence." 

Here  the  judge  stuck  his  thumbs  into  his  girdle,  which 
was  a  favorite  attitude  of  his  on  such  occasions,  and  ex- 
claimed, **  Pshaw,  Master  Attorney  I  Tell  me  not  that  you 
could  have  proved  this  and  you  could  have  proved  that,  or 
that,  or  this.     Prove  what  you  will,  but  let  it  be  through 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  481 

the  mouths  of  your  evidence.  Men  are  not  to  be  licked 
out  of  their  lives  by  the  rough  side  of  a  lawyer's  tongue/' 

'*  Nor  is  a  foul  plot  to  be  smothered,"  said  the  attorney, 
''  for  all  the  haste  your  lordship  is  in.  I  cannot  call  Master 
Ohiffinch  neither,  as  he  is  employed  on  the  King's  especial 
affairs,  as  I  am  this  instant  certiorated  from  the  court  at 
Whitehall.'' 

*'  Produce  the  papers,  then.  Master  Attorney,  of  which 
this  young  man  is  said  to  be  the  bearer,"  said  the  judge. 

*'  They  are  before  the  privy  council,  my  lord," 

'^  Then  why  do  you  found  on  them  here  ?"  said  the  judge. 
"This  is  something  like  trifling  with  the  court." 

*'  Since  your  lordship  gives  it  that  name,"  said  the  attor- 
ney, sitting  down  in  a  huff,  "you  may  manage  the  cause  as 
you  will." 

"  If  you  do  not  bring  more  evidence,  I  pray  you  to  charge 
the  jury,"  said  the  judge. 

*^I  shall  not  take  the  trouble  to  do  so,"  said  the  crown 
council.     "  I  see  plainly  how  the  matter  is  to  go." 

"  Nay,  but  be  better  advised,"  said  Scroggs.  "  Consider, 
your  case  is  but  half  proved  respecting  the  two  Peverils,  and 
doth  not  pinch  on  the  little  man  at  all,  saving  that  Doctor 
Gates  said  that  he  was  in  a  certain  case  to  prove  a  giant, 
which  seems  no  very  probable  Popish  miracle." 

This  sally  occasioned  a  laugh  in  the  court,  which  the  at- 
torney-general seemed  to  take  in  great  dudgeon. 

"  Master  Attorney,"  said  Gates,  who  always  interfered  in 
the  management  of  these  lawsuits,  "this  is  a  plain  and  ab- 
solute giving  away  of  the  cause — I  must  needs  say  it,  a  mere 
stoifling  of  the  Plaat." 

"  Then  the  devil  who  bred  it  may  blow  wind  into  it  again, 
if  he  lists,"  answered  the  attorney-general  ;  and,  flinging 
down  his  brief,  he  left  the  court,  as  in  a  huff  with  all  who 
were  concerned  in  the  affair. 

The  judge  having  obtained  silence,  for  a  murmur  arose  in 
the  court  when  the  counsel  for  the  prosecution  threw  up  his 
brief,  began  to  charge  the  jury,  balancing,  as  he  had  done 
throughout  the  whole  day,  the  different  opinions  by  which 
he  seemed  alternately  swayed.  He  protested  on  his  salva- 
tion that  he  had  no  more  doubt  of  the  existence  of  the  hor- 
rid and  damnable  conspiracy  called  the  Popish  Plot  than  he 
had  of  the  treachery  of  Judas  Iscariot  ;  and  that  he  con- 
sidered Gates  as  the  instrument  under  Providence  of  pre- 
serving the  nation  from  all  the  miseries  of  his  Majesty's 
assassination,  and  of  a  second  St.  Bartholomew,  acted  in 
31 


482  WA  VERLEY  NO  VEL  8 

the  streets  of  London.  But  then  he  stated  it  wao  the  candid 
construction  of  the  law  of  England,  that  the  worse  the  crime, 
the  more  strong  should  be  the  evidence.  Here  was  the  case 
of  accessaries  tried  whilst  their  principal — for  such  he  should 
call  the  Countess  of  Derby — was  unconvicted  and  at  large  ; 
and  for  Doctor  Gates,  he  had  but  spoke  of  matters  which  per- 
sonally applied  to  that  noble  lady,  whose  words,  if  she  used 
such  in  passion,  touching  aid  which  she  expected  in  some 
treasonable  matters  from  these  Peverils,  and  from  her  kins- 
men, or  her  son's  kinsmen,  of  the  house  of  Stanley,  may  have 
been  but  a  burst  of  female  resentment — dulcis  Amaryllidis  ira, 
as  the  poet  hath  it.  Who  knoweth  but  Doctor  Gates  did  mis- 
takes-he being  a  gentleman  of  a  comely  countenance  and  easy 
demeanor — this  same  rap  with  the  fan  as  a  chastisement  for 
lack  of  courage  in  the  Catholic  cause,  when,  peradventure,  it 
was  otherwise  meant,  as  Popish  ladies  will  put,  it  is  said,  such 
neophytes  and  youthful  candidates  for  orders  to  many  severe 
trials.  '^  I  speak  these  things  jocularly,"  said  the  judge, 
"  having  no  wish  to  stain  the  reputation  either  of  the  hon- 
orable countess  or  the  reverend  doctor  ;  only  I  think  the 
bearing  between  them  may  have  related  to  something  short 
of  high  treason.  As  for  what  the  attorney-general  hath  set 
forth  of  rescues  and  force,  and  I  wot  not  what,  sure  I  am 
that,  in  a  civil  country,  when  such  things  happen,  such 
things  may  be  proved,  and  that  you  and  I,  gentlemen,  are 
not  to  take  them  for  granted  gratuitously.  Touching  this 
other  prisoner,  this  Gal fridus  minimus,  he  must  needs  say," 
he  continued,  "  he  could  not  discover  even  a  shadow  of  sus- 
picion against  him.  Was  it  to  be  thought  so  abortive  a 
creature  would  thrust  himself  into  depths  of  policy,  far  less 
into  stratagems  of  war  ?  They  had  but  to  look  at  him  to 
conclude  the  contrary ;  the  creature  was,  from  his  age, 
fitter  for  the  grave  than  a  conspiracy,  and  by  his  size  and 
appearance,  for  the  inside  of  a  raree-show  than  the  mysteries 
of  a  plot." 

The  dwarf  here  broke  in  upon  the  judge  by  force  of  scream- 
ing, to  assure  him  that  he  had  been,  simple  as  he  sat  there, 
engaged  in  seven  plots  in  CromwelFs  time  ;  and,  as  he 
proudly  added,  with  some  of  the  tallest  men  of  England. 
The  matchless  look  and  air  with  which  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson 
made  this  vaunt  set  all  a-laughing,  and  increased  the  ridi- 
cule with  which  the  whole  trial  began  to  be  received  ;  so 
that  it  was  amidst  shaking  sides  and  watery  eyes  that  a  gen- 
eral verdict  of  ''  Not  Guilty "  was  pronounced,  and  the 
prisoners  dismissed  from  the  bar." 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  483 

Bnt  a  warmer  sentiment  awakened  among  those  who  saw 
the  father  and  son  throw  themselves  into  each  other's  arms, 
and,  after  a  hearty  embrace,  extend  their  hands  to  their  poor 
little  companion  in  peril,  who,  like  a  dog,  when  present  at  a 
similar  scene,  had  at  last  succeeded,  by  stretching  himself  up 
to  them  and  whimpering  at  the  same  time,  to  secure  to  him- 
self a  portion  of  their  sympathy  and  gratulation. 

Such  was  the  singular  termination  of  this  trial.  Charles 
himself  was  desirous  to  have  taken  considerable  credit  with 
the  Duke  of  Ormond  for  the  evasion  of  the  law  which  had 
been  thus  effected  by  his  private  connivance  ;  and  was  both 
surprised  and  mortified  at  the  coldness  with  which  his  Grace 
replied,  that  he  was  rejoiced  at  the  poor  gentlemen's  safety, 
but  would  rather  have  had  the  King  redeem  them  like 
a  prince,  by  his  royal  prerogative  of  mercy,  than  that  his 
judge  should  convey  them  out  of  the  power  of  the  law^  like 
a  juggler  with  his  cups  and  balls. 


CHAPTER  XLII 

On  fair  ground 
I  could  beat  forty  of  them  ! 

Coriolanus. 

It  doubtlecs  occurred  to  many  that  were  present  at  the  trial 
we  have  described,  that  it  was  managed  in  a  singular  manner, 
and  that  the  quarrel,  which  had  the  appearance  of  having 
taken  place  between  the  court  and  the  crown  counsel,  might 
proceed  from  some  private  understanding  betwixt  them,  the 
object  of  which  was  the  miscarriage  of  the  accusation.  Yet 
though  such  underhand  dealing  was  much  suspected,  the 
greater  part  of  the  audience,  being  well  educated  and  intel- 
ligent, had  already  suspected  the  bubble  of  the  Popish  Plot, 
and  were  glad  to  see  that  accusations,  founded  on  what  had 
already  cost  so  much  blood,  could  be  evaded  in  any  Avay. 
Bnt  the  crowd,  who  waited  in  the  Court  of  Requests,  and  in 
the  hall,  and  without  doors,  viewed  in  a  very  different  light 
the  combination,  as  they  interpreted  it,  between  the  judge 
and  the  attorney-general  for  the  escape  of  the  prisoners. 

Gates,  whom  less  provocation  than  he  had  that  day  re- 
ceived often  induced  to  behave  like  one  frantic  with  passion, 
threw  himself  amongst  the  crowd,  and  repeated  till  he  was 
hoarse,  "  Theay  are  stoifling  the  Plaat — theay  are  stroangl- 
ing  the  Plaat !  My  Laard  Justice  and  Maaster  Attarney  are 
in  league  to  secure  the  escape  of  the  plaaters  and  Paapists  ! " 

^*It  is  the  device  of  the  Papist  whore  of  Portsmouth/' 
said  one." 

*'  Of  Old  Rowley  himself,"  said  another. 

"  If  he  could  be  murdered  by  himself,  why,  hang  those 
that  would  hinder  it  ! "  exclaimed  a  third. 

*'  He  should  be  tried,"  said  a  fourth,  for  conspiring  his  own 
death,  and  hanged  in  terror  em/' 

In  the  meanwhile.  Sir  Geoffrey,  his  son,  and  their  little 
companion  left  the  hall,  intending  to  go  to  Lady  Peveril's 
lodgings,  which  had  been  removed  to  Fleet  Street.  She  had 
been  relieved  from  considerable  inconvenience,  as  Sir  Geof- 
frey gave  Julian  hastily  to  understand,  by  an  angel,  in  the 
shape  of  a  young  friend,  and  she  now  expected  them  doubt- 
less with  impatience.     Humanity,  and  some  indistinct  idea 

484 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  486 

of  having  unintentionally  hurt  the  feelings  of  the  poor  dwarf, 
induced  the  honest  Cavalier  to  ask  this  unprotected  being 
to  go  with  them.  ''  He  knew  Lady  PeveriFs  lodgings  were 
but  small/'  he  said  ;  "  but  it  would  be  strange  if  there  was 
not  some  cupboard  large  enough  to  accommodate  the  little 
gentleman/' 

The  dwarf  registered  this  well-meant  remark  in  his  mind, 
to  be  the  subject  of  a  proper  explanation,  along  with  the 
unhappy  reminiscence  of  the  trencher-hornpipe,  whenever 
time  should  permit  an  argument  of  such  nicety. 

And  thus  they  sallied  from  the  hall,  attracting  general 
observation,  both  from  the  circumstances  in  which  they  had 
stood  so  lately  and  from  their  resemblance,  as  a  wag  of  the 
Inner  Temple  expressed  it,  to  the  three  degrees  of  comparison 
— large,  lesser,  least.  But  they  had  not  passed  far  along  the 
streets  when  Julian  perceived  that  more  malevolent  passions 
than  mere  curiosity  began  to  actuate  the  crowd,  which 
followed,  and,  as  it  were,  dogged,  their  motions. 

"  There  go  the  Papist  cut- throats,  tantivy  for  Rome  ! "  said 
one  fellow. 

"  Tantivy  to  Whitehall,  you  mean  !  "  said  another. 

'^  Ah  !  the  bloodthirsty  villains  !  "  cried  a  wom&n. 
"  Shame,  one  of  them  should  be  suffered  to  live,  after  poor 
Sir  Edmondsbury's  cruel  murder  ! " 

^'  Out  upon  the  mealy-mouthed  jury  that  turned  out  the 
bloodhounds  on  an  innocent  town  !    "cried  a  fourth. 

It  short,  the  tumult  thickened,  and  the  word  began  to 
pass  among  the  more  desperate,  '^  Lambe  them,  lads — 
Lambe  them  !  "  a  cant  phrase  of  the  time,  derived  from  the 
fate  of  Dr.  Lambe,  an  astrologer  and  quack,  who  was  knocked 
on  the  head  by  the  rabble  in  Charles  the  First's  time. 

Julian  began  to  be  much  alarmed  at  these  symptoms  of 
violence,  and  regretted  that  they  had  not  gone  down  to  the 
city  by  water.  It  was  now  too  late  too  think  of  that  mode  of 
retreating,  and  he  therefore  requested  his  father  in  a  whisper 
to  walk  steadily  forward  towards  Charing  Cross,  taking  no 
notice  of  the  insults  which  might  be  cast  upon  them,  while 
the  steadiness  of  their  pace  and  appearance  might  prevent 
the  rabble  from  resorting  to  actual  violence.  The  execution 
of  this  prudent  resolution  was  prevented  after  they  had  passed 
the  palace,  by  the  hasty  disposition  of  the  elder  Sir  Geoffrey, 
and  the  no  less  choleric  temper  of  Oalfridus  minimus^  who 
had  a  soul  which  spurned  all  odds,  as  well  of  numbers  as  of 
size. 

'*  Now  a  murrain  take,  the  knaves,  with  their  hallooing 


486  WAVUBLEY  N0VEL8 

and  whooping,"  said  the  larger  knight;  ''by  this  day,  if  1 
could  but  light  on  a  weapon,  I  would  cudgel  reason  and  loy- 
alty into  some  of  their  carcasses  ! " 

"And  I  also,"  said  the  dwarf,  who  was  toiling  to  keep  up 
with  the  longer  strides  of  his  companions,  and  therefore 
spoke  in  a  very  phthisical  tone — "  I  also  will  cudgel  the  ple- 
beian knaves  beyond  measure — he  ! — hem  ! " 

Among  the  crowd  who  thronged  around  them,  impeded, 
and  did  all  but  assault  them,  was  a  mischievous  shoemaker's 
apprentice,  who,  hearing  this  unlucky  vaunt  of  the  valorous 
dwarf,  repaid  it  by  flapping  him  on  the  head  with  a  boot 
which  he  was  carrying  home  to  the  owner,  so  as  to  knock  the 
little  gentleman's  hat  over  his  eyes.  The  dwarf,  thus  ren- 
dered unable  to  discover  the  urchin  that  had  given  him  the 
offense,  flew  with  instinctive  ambition  against  the  biggest 
fellow  in  the  crowd,  who  received  the  onset  with  a  kick  on 
the  stomach,  which  made  the  poor  little  champion  reel  back 
to  his  companions.  They  were  now  assaulted  on  all  sides  ; 
but  fortune,  complying  with  the  wish  of  Sir  Geoffrey  the 
larger,  ordained  that  the  scuffle  should  happen  near  the 
booth  of  a  cutler,  from  amongst  whose  wares,  as  they  stood 
exposed  to  the  public.  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  snatched  a  broad- 
sword, which  he  brandished  with  the  formidable  address  of 
one  who  had  for  many  a  day  been  in  the  familiar  practise  of 
using  such  a  weapon.  Julian,  while  at  the  same  time  he 
called  loudly  for  a  peace-officer,  and  reminded  the  assailants 
that  they  were  attacking  inoffensive  passengers,  saw  nothing 
better  for  it  than  to  imitate  his  father's  example,  and  seized 
also  one  of  the  weapons  thus  opportunely  offered. 

When  the  displayed  these  demonstrations  of  defense,  the 
rush  which  the  rabble  at  first  made  towards  them  was  so 
great  as  to  throw  down  the  unfortunate  dwarf,  who  would 
have  been  trampled  to  death  in  the  scuffle,  had  not  his  stout 
old  namesake  cleared  the  rascal  crowd  from  about  him  with 
a  few  flourishes  of  his  weapon,  and,  seizing  on  the  fallen 
champion,  put  him  out  of  danger  (except  from  missiles)  by 
suddenly  placing  him  on  the  bulk-head,  that  is  to  say,  the 
flat  wooden  roof,  of  the  cutler's  projecting  booth.  From 
the  rusty  ironware  which  was  displayed  there,  the  dwarf  in- 
stantly snatched  an  old  rapier  and  target,  and,  covering  him- 
self with  the  one,  stood  making  passes  with  other  at  the 
face. and  eyes  of  the  people  in  the  street,  so  much  delighted 
with  his  post  of  vantage  that  he  called  loudly  to  his  friends, 
who  were  skirmishing  with  the  rioters  on  more  equal  terms 
ae  to  position,  to  lose  no  time  in  putting  themselves  under 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  487 

his  protection.  But,  far  from  being  in  a  situation  to  need 
his  assistance,  the  father  and  son  might  easily  have  extricated 
themselves  from  the  rabble  by  their  own  exertions,  could  they 
have  thought  of  leaving  the  manikin  in  the  forlorn  situation, 
in  which,  to  every  eye  but  his  own,  he  stood  like  a  diminutive 
puppet,  tricked  out  with  sword  and  target  as  a  fencing- 
master's  sign. 

Stones  and  sticks  began  now  to  fly  very  thick,  and  the 
crowd,  notwithstanding  the  exertions  of  the  Peverils  to  dis- 
perse them  with  as  little  harm  as  possible,  seemed  determined 
on  mischief,  when  some  gentlemen  who  had  been  at  the 
trial,  understanding  that  the  prisoners  who  had  been  just 
acquitted  were  in  danger  of  being  murdered  by  the  populace, 
drew  their  swords  and  made  forward  to  effect  their  rescue, 
which  was  completed  by  a  small  party  of  the  King's  Life 
Guards,  who  had  been  despatched  from  their  ordinary  post 
of  alarm  apon  intelligence  of  what  was  passing.  When  this 
unexpected  reinforcement  arrived,  the  old  jolly  knight  «,t 
once  recognized,  amidst  the  cries  of  those  who  then  entered 
upon  action,  some  of  the  sounds  which  had  animated  his 
more  active  years. 

''  Where  be  these  cuckoldly  Roundheads  ? ''  cried  some. 
"Down  with  the  sneaking  knaves!"  cried  others.  ^*  The 
King  and  his  friends,  and  the  devil  a  one  else  ! "  exclaimed 
a  third  set,  with  more  oaths  and  *'  d — n  me's ''  than,  in  the 
present  more  correct  age,  it  is  necessary  to  commit  to  paper. 

The  old  soldier,  pricking  up  his  ears  like  an  ancient  hunter 
at  the  cry  of  the  hounds,  would  gladly  have  scoured  the 
Strand  with  the  charitable  purpose,  now  he  saw  himself  so 
well  supported,  of  knocking  the  London  knaves  who  had  in- 
sulted him  into  twiggen  bottles  ;  but  he  was  withheld  by  the 
prudence  of  Julian,  who,  though  himself  extremely  irritated 
by  the  unprovoked  ill-usage  which  they  had  received,  saw 
himself  in  a  situation  in  which  it  was  necessary  to  exercise 
more  caution  than  vengeance.  He  prayed  and  pressed  his 
father  to  seek  some  temporary  place  of  retreat  from  the  fury 
of  the  populace,  while  that  prudent  measure  was  yet  in  their 
power.  The  subaltern  officer  who  commanded  the  party  of 
the  Life  Guards  exhorted  the  old  Cavalier  eagerly  to  the 
same  sage  counsel,  using,  as  a  spice  of  compulsion,  the  name 
of  the  King,  while  Julian  strongly  urged  that  of  his  mother. 
The  old  knight  looked  at  his  blade,  crimsoned  with  cross- 
cuts and  slashes  which  he  had  given  to  the  most  forward  of 
the  assailants,  with  the  eye  of  one  not  half  sufficed. 

*'  I  would  I  had  pinked  one  of  the  knaves  at  least  ;  but  I 


488  WAVEMLEY  NOVELS 

know  not  how  it  was,  when  I  looked  on  their  broad,  round 
English  faces,  I  shunned  to  use  mj  point,  and  only  sliced 
the  rogues  a  little/' 

*^But  the  Kings's  pleasure/'  said  the  officer,  "is,  that  no 
tumult  be  prosecuted." 

''  My  mother,''  said  Julian,  "  will  die  with  fright  if  the 
rumor  of  this  scuffle  reaches  her  ere  we  see  her." 

'^  Ay — ay,"  said  the  knight,  "  the  King's  Majesty,  and  my 
good  dame — well,  their  pleasure  be  done,  that's  all  I  can  say. 
6ings  and  ladies  must  be  obeyed.  But  which  way  to  retreat, 
since  retreat  we  needs  must  ?" 

Julian  would  have  been  at  some  loss  to  advise  what  course 
to  take,  for  everybody  in  the  vicinity  had  shut  up  their  shops 
and  chained  their  doors,  upon  observing  the  confusion  be- 
come so  formidable.  The  poor  cutler,  however,  with  whose 
goods  they  made  so  free,  offered  them  an  asylum  on  the  part 
of  his  landlord,  whose  house  served  as  a  rest  for  his  shop, 
and  only  intimated  gently,  he  hoped  the  gentlemen  would 
consider  him  for  the  use  of  his  weapons. 

Julian  was  hastily  revolving  whether  they  ought,  in  pru- 
dence to  accept  this  man's  invitation,  aware,  by  experience, 
how  many  trepans,  as  they  were  then  termed,  were  used 
betwixt  two  contending  factions,  each  too  inveterate  to  be 
very  scrupulous  of  the  character  of  fair  play  to  an  enemy, 
when  the  dwarf,  exerting  his  cracked  voice  to  the  uttermost, 
and  shrieking  like  an  exhausted  herald,  from  the  exalted 
station  which  he  still  occupied  on  the  bulk-head,  exhorted 
them  to  accept  the  offer  of  the  worthy  man  of  the  mansion. 
*'  He  himself,"  he  said,  as  he  reposed  himself  after  the 
glorious  conquest  in  which  he  had  some  share,  *'had  been 
favored  with  a  beatific  vision,  too  splendid  to  be  described 
to  common  and  mere  mortal  ears,  but  which  had  commanded 
him,  in  a  voice  to  which  his  heart  had  bounded  as  to  a 
trumpet  sound,  to  take  refuge  with  the  worthy  person  of  the 
house,  and  cause  his  friends  to'  do  so." 

"  Vision  !  "  said  the  knight  of  the  Peak — "  sound  of  a 
trumpet  1  the  little  man  is  stark  mad." 

But  the  cutler,  in  great  haste,  intimated  to  them  that 
their  little  friend  had  received  an  intimation  from  a  gentle- 
woman of  his  acquaintance  ;  who  spoke  to  him  from  the 
window,  while  he  stood  on  the  bulk-head,  that  they  would 
find  a  safe  retreat  in  his  landlord's  ;  and,  desiring  them  to 
attend  to  two  or  three  deep  though  distant  huzzas,  made 
them  aware  that  the  rabble  were  up  still,  and  would  soon  be 
upon  them  with  renewed  yiqlence  and  increased  numbers. 


£  EVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  489 

The  father  and  son,  therefore,  hastily  thanked  the  officer 
and  his  party,  as  well  as  the  other  gentlemen  who  had  vol- 
unteered in  their  assistance,  lifted  little  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson 
from  the  conspicuous  post  which  he  had  so  creditably  oc- 
cupied during  the  skirmish,  and  followed  the  footsteps  of 
the  tenant  of  the  booth,  who  conducted  them  down  a  blind 
alley,  and  through  one  or  two  courts,  in  case,  as  he  said, 
any  one  might  have  watched  where  they  burrowed,  and  so 
into  a  back  door.  This  entrance  admitted  them  to  a  staircase 
carefully  hung  with  straw  mats  to  exclude  damp,  from  the 
upper  step  of  which  they  entered  upon  a  tolerably  large  with- 
drawing-room,  hung  with  coarse  green  serge  edged  with 
gilded  leather,  which  the  poorer  or  more  economical  citizens 
at  that  time  used  instead  of  tapestry  or  wainscoting. 

Here  the  poor  cutler  received  from  Julian  such  a  gratuity 
for  the  loan  of  the  swords  that  he  generously  abandoned  the 
property  to  the  gentlemen  who  had  used  them  so  well ;  '^  the 
rather,"  he  said,  '^  that  he  saw,  by  the  way  they  handled 
their  weapons,  that  they  were  men  of  mettle  and  tall 
fellows." 

Here  the  dwarf  smiled  on  him  courteously,  and  bowed, 
thrusting,  at  the  same  time,  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  which, 
however,  he  withdrew  carelessly  probably  because  he  found 
he  had  not  the  means  of  making  the  small  donation  which 
he  had  meditated. 

The  cutler  proceeded  to  say,  as  he  bowed  and  was  about  to 
withdraw,  that  he  saw  there  would  be  merry  days  yet  in  Old 
England,  and  that  Bilboa  blades  would  fetch  as  good  a  price 
as  ever.  '^  I  remember,"  he  said,  "  gentlemen,  though  I  was 
then  but  a  'prentice,  the  demand  for  weapons  in  the  years 
forty-one  and  forty-two  :  swordblades  were  more  in  request 
than  toothpicks,  and  Old  Ironsides,  my  master,  took  more 
for  rascally  provant  rapiers  than  I  dare  ask  nowadays  for  a 
Toledo.  But,  to  be  sure,  a  man's  life  then  rested  on  the 
blade  he  carried ;  the  Cavaliers  and  Eonndheads  fought 
every  day  at  the  gates  of  Whitehall,  as  it  is  like,  gentlemen, 
by  your  good  example,  they  may  do  again,  when  I  shall  be 
enabled  to  leave  my  pitiful  booth  and  open  a  shop  of  better 
quality.  I  hope  you  will  recommend  me,  gentlemen,  to 
your  friends.  I  am  always  provided  with  ware  which  a  gentle- 
man may  risk  his  life  on." 

''Thank  you,  good  friend,"  said  Julian  ;  "  I  prithee  be- 
gone. I  trust  we  shall  need  thy  ware  no  more  for  some  time 
at  least." 

The  cutler  retired,  while  the   dwarf  hallooed  after  him 


490  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

downstairs,  that  "  He  would  call  on  him  soon,  and  equip 
himself  with  a  longer  blade,  and  one  more  proper  for  action  ; 
although,"  he  said,  ''the  little  weapon  he  had  did  well  enough 
for  a  walking-sword,  or  in  a  skirmish  with  such  canaille  as 
they  had  been  engaged  with." 

The  cutler  returned  at  this  summons,  and  agreed  to  pleas- 
ure the  little  man  with  a  weapon  more  suitable  to  his  mag- 
nanimity ;  then,  as  if  the  thought  had  suddenly  occurred  to 
him,  he  said,  '^But,  gentlemen,  it  will  be  but  wild  work  to 
walk  with  your  naked  swords  through  the  Strand,  and  it  can 
scarce  fail  to  raise  the  rabble  again.  If  you  please,  while 
you  repose  yourselves  here,  lean  fit  the  blades  with  sheaths." 

The  proposal  seemed  so  reasonable  that  Julian  and  his 
father  gave  up  their  weapons  to  the  friendly  cutler,  an 
example  which  the  dwarf  followed,  after  a  moments  hesita- 
tion, not  caring,  as  he  magnificently  expressed  it,  to  part  so 
soon  with  the  trusty  friend  which  fortune  had  but  the  mo- 
ment before  restored  to  his  hand.  The  man  retired  with  the 
weapons  under  his  arm  ;  and,  in  shutting  the  door  behind 
him,  they  heard  him  turn  the  key. 

"  Did  you  hear  that  ?  "  said  Sir  Geoffrey  to  his  son,  ''  and 
we  are  disarmed  !  " 

Julian,  without  reply,  examined  the  door,  which  was  fast 
secured  ;  and  then  looked  at  the  casements,  which  were  at  a 
story's  height  from  the  ground,  and  grated  besides  with 
iron.  ''^  I  cannot  think,"  he  said,  after  a  moment's  pause, 
*'  that  the  fellow  means  to  trepan  us  ;  and,  in  any  event,  I 
trust  we  should  have  no  difficulty  in  forcing  the  door,  or 
otherwise  making  an  escape.  But,  before  resorting  to  such 
violent  measures,  I  think  it  is  better  to  give  the  rabble  leisure 
to  disperse,  by  waiting  this  man's  return  with  our  weapons 
within  a  reasonable  time,  when,  if  he  does  not  appear,  I 
trust  we  shall  find  little  difficulty  in  extricationg  ourselves." 
As  he  spoke  thus,  the  hangings  were  pulled  aside,  and,  from 
a  small  door  which  was  concealed  behind  them.  Major  Bridge- 
north  entered  the  room. 


CHAPTEE  XLIII 

He  came  amongst  them  like  a  new-raised  spirit, 
To  speak  of  dreadful  judgments  that  impend, 
And  of  the  wrath  to  come. 

The  Reformer. 

The  astonishment  of  Julian  at  the  unexpected  apparition  of 
Bridgenorth  was  instantly  succeeded  by  apprehension  of  his 
father^s  violence,  which  he  had  every  reason  to  believe  would 
break  forth  against  one  whom  he  himself  could  not  but  rev- 
erence on  account  of  his  own  merits,  as  well  as  because  he 
was  the  father  of  Alice.  The  appearance  of  Bridgenorth 
was  not,  however,  such  as  to  awaken  resentment.  His 
countenance  was  calm,  his  step  slow  and  composed,  his  eye 
not  without  the  indication  of  some  deep-seated  anxiety,  but 
without  any  expression  either  of  anger  or  of  triumph. 
''You  are  welcome,^'  he  said,  "  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,  to  the 
shelter  and  hospitality  of  this  house — as  welcome  as  you 
would  have  been  in  other  days,  when  we  called  each  other 
neighbors  and  friends.^' 

''  Odzooks,''  said  the  old  Cavalier,  ''  and  had  I  known  it 
was  thy  house,  man,  I  would  sooner  had  my  hearths  blood 
run  down  the  kennel  than  my  foot  should  have  crossed  your 
threshold — in  the  way  of  seeking  safety,  that  is."*^ 

*^'I  forgive  your  inveteracy, ^^  said  Major  Bridgenorth, 
*'  on  account  of  your  prejudices. ''' 

*'  Keep  your  forgiveness,^^  answered  the  Cavalier,  ^'  until 
you  are  pardoned  yourself.  By  St.  George,  I  have  sworn, 
if  ever  I  got  my  heels  out  of  yon  rascally  prison,  whither  I 
was  sent  much  through  your  means.  Master  Bridgenorth, 
that  you  should  pay  the  reckoning  for  my  bad  lodging.  I 
will  strike  no  man  in  his  own  house  ;  but  if  you  will  cause 
the  fellow  to  bring  back  my  weapon,  and  take  a  turn  in  that 
blind  court  there  below  along  with  me,  you  shall  soon  see 
what  chance  a  traitor  hath  with  a  true  man,  and  a  kennel- 
blooded  Puritan  with  Peveril  of  the  Peak.^^ 

Bridgenorth  smiled  with  much  composure.  '^  When  1 
was  younger  and  more  warm-blooded,'^  he  replied,  ''I  re- 
fused your  challenge.  Sir  Geoffrey  ;  it  is  not  likely  I  should 
now  accept  it,  when  each  is  within  a  stride  of  the  grave.     I 

491 


492  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

have  not  spared,  and  will  not  spare,  my  blood  whexx  my 
country  wants  it/' 

^'  That  is,  when  there  is  any  chance  of  treason  against  the 
King,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey. 

* '  Nay,  my  father,"  said  Julian,  "  let  us  hear  Master  Bridge- 
north  !  We  have  been  sheltered  in  his  house  ;  and  although 
we  now  see  him  in  London,  we  should  remember  that  he 
did  not  appear  against  us  this  day,  when  perhaps  his  evi- 
dence might  have  given  a  fatal  turn  to  our  situation." 

'*  You  are  right,  young  man,"  said  Bridgenorth  ;  "and 
it  should  be  some  pledge  of  my  sincere  good-will  that  I  was 
this  day  absent  from  Westminster,  when  a  few  words  from 
my  mouth  had  ended  the  long  line  of  Peveril  of  the  Peak. 
It  needed  but  ten  minutes  to  walk  to  Westminster  Hall,  to 
have  ensured  your  condemnation.  But  could  I  have  done 
this,  knowing,  as  I  now  know,  that  to  thee,  Julian  Peveril,  I 
owe  the  extrication  of  my  daughter — of  my  dearest  Alice — 
the  memory  of  her  departed  mother — from  the  snares  which 
hell  and  profligacy  had  opened  around  her  ?  " 

"  She  is,  I  trust,  safe,"  said  Peveril,  eagerly,  and  almost 
forgetting  his  father^s  presence — "she  is,  I  trust,  safe,  and 
in  your  own  wardship  ?  " 

"  Not  in  mine,"  said  the  dejected  father  ;  "  but  in  that 
of  one  in  whose  protection,  next  to  that  of  Heaven,  I  can 
most  fully  confide." 

'^  Are  you  sure^are  you  very  sure  of  that  ? "  repeated 
Julian,  eagerly.  "  I  found  her  under  the  charge  of  one  to 
whom  she  had  been  trusted,  and  who  yet " 

"  And  who  yet  was  the  basest  of  women,"  answered  Bridge- 
north  ;  "  but  he  who  selected  her  for  the  charge  was  de- 
ceived in  her  character." 

"  Say  rather  you  were  deceived  in  his  ;  remember  that 
when  we  parted  at  Moultrassie  I  warned  you  of  that  Gan- 
lesse — that " 

"  I  know  your  meaning,"  said  Bridgenorth ;  "  nor  did 
you  err  in  describing  him  as  a  worldly-wise  man.  But  he 
has  atoned  for  his  error  by  recovering  Alice  from  the  dangers 
into  which  she  was  plunged  when  separated  from  you  ;  and 
besides,  I  have  not  thought  meet  again  to  entrust  him  with 
the  charge  that  is  dearest  to  me." 

"I  thank  God  your  eyes  are  thus  far  opened!"  said 
Julian. 

"  This  day  will  open  them  wide,  or  close  them  forever," 
answered  Bridgenorth. 

During  this  dialogue,  which  the  speakers  hurried  through 


PEVERiL  OF  THE  PEA:^  4&^ 

vnthout  attending  to  the  others  who  were  present.  Sir  Geof- 
frey listened  with  surprise  and  eagerness,  endeavoring  to 
catch  something  which  should  render  their  conversation  in- 
telligible ;  but  as  he  totally  failed  in  gaining  any  such  key 
to  their  meaning,  he  broke  in  with — ''  ^Sblood  and  thunder, 
Julian,  what  unprofitable  gossip  is  this  ?  What  hast  thou  to 
do  with  this  fellow,  more  than  to  bastinado  him,  if  you 
should  think  it  worth  while  to  beat  so  old  a  rogue  ?  '^ 

"  My  dearest  father,'^  said  Julian,  "you  know  not  this 
gentleman ;  I  am  certain  you  do  him  injustice.  My  own 
obligations  to  him  are  many ;  and  I  am  sure  when  you  come 
to  know  them " 

''  I  hope  I  shall  die  ere  that  moment  come,''  said  Sir  Geof- 
frey, and  continued  with  increasing  violence — "  I  hope,  in 
the  mercy  of  Heaven,  that  I  shall  be  in  the  grave  of  my  an- 
cestors, ere  I  learn  that  my  son — my  only  son — the  last  hope 
of  my  ancient  house — the  last  remnant  of  the  name  of  Peveril 
hath  consented  to  receive  obligations  from  the  man  on  earth 
I  am  most  bound  to  hate,  were  I  not  still  more  bound  to  con- 
temn him  !  Degenerate  dog- whelp  ! ''  he  repeated  with  great 
vehemence,  "  you  color,  without  replying  !  Speak,  and  dis- 
own such  disgrace,  or,  by  the  God  of  my  fathers '' 

The  dwarf  suddenly  stepped  forward  and  called  out,  "  For- 
bear ! "  with  a  voice  at  once  so  discordant  and  commanding 
that  it  sounded  supernarural.  "  Man  of  sin  and  pride,''  he 
said,  ''^forbear  ;  and  call  not  the  name  of  a  holy  God  to  wit- 
ness thine  unhallowed  resentments." 

The  rebuke  so  boldly  and  decidedly  given,  and  the  moral 
enthusiasm  with  which  he  spoke,  gave  the  despised  dwarf  an 
ascendency  for  the  moment  over  the  fiery  spirit  of  his  gigan- 
tic namesake.  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  eyed  him  for  an  instant 
askance  and  shyly,  as  he  might  have  done  a  supernatuaal 
apparition,  and  then  muttered,  "  What  knowest  thou  of  my 
cause  of  wrath  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  said  the  dwarf — nothing  but  this,  that  no 
cause  can  warrant  the  oath  thou  wert  about  to  swear.  Un- 
grateful man  !  thou  wert  to-day  rescued  from  the  devouring 
wrath  of  the  wicked  by  a  marvelous  conjunction  of  circum- 
stances. Is  this  a  day,  thinkst  thou,  on  which  to  indulge 
thine  own  hasty  resentments  ?  " 

"  I  stand  rebuked,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  "and by  a  singular 
monitor :  the  grasshopper,  as  the  Prayer  Book  saith,  hath 
become  a  burden  to  me.  Julian,  I  will  speak  to  thee  of  these 
matters  hereafter.  And  for  you,  Master  Bridgenorth,  I  de- 
sire to  have  no  farther  communication  with  you,  either  in 


404  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

peace  or  in  anger.  Our  time  passes  fast,  and  I  would  fain 
return  to  my  family.  Cause  our  weapons  to  be  restored  ;  un- 
bar the  doors,  and  let  us  part  without  farther  altercation, 
which  can  but  disturb  and  aggravate  our  spirits. ^^ 

"  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril,"  said  Bridgenorth,  ''I  have  no  de- 
sire to  vex  your  spirit  or  my  own  ;  but,  for  thus  soon  dismiss- 
ing you,  that  may  hai'dly  be,  it  being  a  course  inconsistent 
with  the  work  which  I  have  on  hand.''^ 

"  How,  sir !  Do  you  mean  that  we  should  abide  here, 
whether  with  or  against  our  inclinations  ?  "  said  the  dwarf. 
"  Were  it  not  that  I  am  laid  under  charge  to  remain  here  by 
one  who  hath  the  best  right  to  command  this  poor  mi- 
crocosm, I  would  show  thee  that  bolts  and  bars  are  unavail- 
ing restraints  on  such  as  I  am.^^ 

''  Truly,^'  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  '^  I  think,  upon  an  emergency,- 
the  little  man  might  make  his  escape  through  the  keyhole.'' 

Bridgenorth's  face  was  moved  into  something  like  a  smile 
at  the  swaggering  speech  of  the  pigmy  hero,  and  the  con- 
temptuous commentary  of  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril ;  but  such  an 
expression  never  dwelt  on  his  features  for  two  seconds  to- 
gether, and  he  replied  in  these  words  :  "  Gentlemen,  each 
and  all  of  you  must  be  fain  to  content  yourselves.  Believe 
me,  no  hurt  is  intended  towards  you  ;  on  the  contrary,  your 
remaining  here  will  be  a  means  of  securing  your  safety, 
which  would  be  otherwise  deeply  endangered.  It  will  be 
your  own  fault  if  a  hair  of  your  heads  is  hurt.  But  the 
stronger  force  is  on  my  side  ;  and  whatever  harm  you  may 
meet  with,  should  you  attempt  to  break  forth  by  violence, 
the  blame  must  rest  with  yourselves.  If  you  will  not  believe 
me,  1  will  permit  Master  Julian  Peveril  to  accompany  me 
where  he  shall  see  that  I  am  provided  fully  with  the  means 
of  repressing  violence.'' 

*'  Treason  ! — treason  ! "  exclaimed  the  old  knight — '^  trea- 
son against  God  and  King  Charles  !  0  for  one  half  hour  of 
the  broadsword  which  I  parted  with  like  an  ass  ! " 

*'  Hold,  my  farther,  I  conjure  you  ! "  said  Julian.  "  I  will 
go  with  Master  Bridgenorth,  since  he  requests  it.  I  will 
satisfy  myself  whether  there  be  danger,  and  of  what  nature. 
It  is  possible  I  may  prevail  on  him  to  desist  from  some  des- 
perate measure,  if  such  be  indeed  in  agitation.  Should  it 
be  necessary,  fear  not  that  your  son  will  behave  as  he  ought 
to  do." 

*'  Do  your  pleasure,  Julian,"  said  his  father ;  ^^  I  will 
confide  in  thee.  But  if  you  betray  my  confidence,  a  father's 
curse  shall  cleave  to  you." 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  496 

Bridgenorth  now  motioned  to  Peveril  to  follow  him,  and 
passed  through  the  small  door  by  which  he  had  entered. 

The  passage  led  to  a  vestibule  or  ante-room,  in  which 
several  other  doors  and  passages  seemed  to  center.  Through 
one  of  these  Julian  was  conducted  by  Bridgenorth,  walking 
with  silence  and  precaution  in  obedience  to  a  signal  made  by 
his  guide  to  that  effect.  As  they  advanced,  he  heard  sounds, 
like  those  of  the  human  voice,  engaged  in  urgent  and  em- 
phatic declamation.  With  slow  and  light  steps  Bridgenorth 
conducted  him  through  a  door  which  terminated  this  pas- 
sage ;  and  as  he  entered  a  little  gallery,  having  a  curtain  in 
front,  the  sound  of  the  preacher's  voice — for  such  it  now 
seemed — became  distinct  and  audible. 

Julian  now  doubted  not  that  he  was  in  one  of  those  con- 
venticles which,  though  contrary  to  the  existing  laws,  still 
continued  to  be  regularly  held  in  different  parts  of  London 
and  the  suburbs.  Many  of  these,  as  frequented  by  persons 
of  moderate  political  principles,  though  dissenters  from  the 
church  for  conscience'  sake,  were  connived  at  by  the  pru- 
dence or  timidity  of  the  government.  But  some  of  them,  in 
which  assembled  the  fiercer  and  more  exalted  sects  of  Inde- 
pendents, Anabaptists,  Fifth  Monarchy  men,  and  other  sec- 
taries, whose  stern  enthusiasm  had  contributed  so  greatly  to 
effect  the  overthrow  of  the  late  King's  throne,  were  sought 
after,  suppressed,  and  dispersed  whenever  they  could  be  dis- 
covered. 

Julian  was  soon  satisfied  that  the  meeting  into  which  he 
was  thus  secretly  introduced  was  one  of  the  latter  class, 
and,  to  judge  by  the  violence  of  the  preacher,  of  the  most 
desperate  character.  He  was  still  more  effectually  con- 
vinced of  this  when,  at  a  sign  from  Bridgenorth,  he  cau- 
tiously unclosed  a  part  of  the  curtain  which  hung  before  the 
gallery,  and  thus,  unseen  himself,  looked  down  on  the  aud- 
ience and  obtained  a  view  of  the  preacher. 

About  two  hundred  persons  .were  assembled  beneath,  in 
an  area  filled  up  with  benches,  as  if  for  the  exercise  of  wor- 
ship ;  and  they  were  all  of  the  male  sex,  and  well  armed 
with  pikes  and  muskets,  as  well  as  swords  and  pistols. 
Most  of  them  had  the  appearance  of  veteran  soldiers,  now 
past  the  middle  of  life,  yet  retaining  such  an  appearance  of 
strength  as  might  well  supply  the  loss  of  youthful  agility. 
They  stood  or  sat  in  various  attitudes  of  stern  attention  ; 
and,  resting  on  their  spears  and  muskets,  kept  their  eyes 
firmly  fixed  on  tne  preacher,  who  ended  the  violence  of  his 
declamation  by   displaying  from  the  pulpit  a  banner^  on 


i96  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

which  was  represented  a  lion,  with  a  motto,  ''  Vicit  Leo  e% 
tribu  JudcB." 

The  torrent  of  mystical  yet  animating  eloquence  of  the 
preacher — an  old  gray-haired  man,  whom  zeal  seemed  to 
supply  with  the  powers  of  voice  and  action  of  which  years 
had  deprived  him — was  suited  to  the  taste  of  his  audience, 
but  could  not  be  transferred  to  these  pages  without  scandal 
and  impropriety.  He  menaced  the  rulers  of  England  with 
all  the  judgments  denounced  on  those  of  Moab  and  Assyria; 
he  called  upon  the  saints  to  be  strong,  to  be  up  and  doing  ; 
and  promised  those  miracles  which,  in  the  campaigns  of 
of  Joshua  and  his  successors  the  valiant  judges  of  Israel,  sup- 
plied all  odds  against  the  Amorites,  Midianites,  and  Philis- 
tines. He  sounded  trumpets,  opened  vials,  broke  seals,  and 
denounced  approaching  judgments  under  all  the  mystical 
signs  of  the  Apocalypse.  The  end  of  the  world  was  an- 
nounced, accompanied  with  all  its  preliminary  terrors. 

Julian,  with  deep  anxiety,  soon  heard  enough  to  make  him 
aware  that  the  meeting  was  likely  to  terminate  in  open  in- 
surrection, like  that  of  the  Fifth  Monarchy  men  under 
Venner,*  at  an  earlier  period  of  Charles's  reign  ;  and  he  was 
not  a  little  concerned  at  the  probability  of  Bridgenorth's 
being  implicated  in  so  criminal  and  desperate  an  undertak- 
ing. If  he  had  retained  any  doubts  of  the  issue  of  tlie 
meeting,  they  must  have  been  removed  when  the  preacher 
called  on  his  hearers  to  renounce  all  expectation  which  liad 
hitherto  been  entertained  of  safety  to  the  nation  from  tlie 
execution  of  the  ordinary  laws  of  the  land.  This,  he  said, 
was  at  best  but  a  carnal  seeking  after  earthly  aid — a  going 
down  to  Egypt  for  help,  which  the  jealousy  of  their  Divine 
Leader  would  resent  as  a  fleeing  to  another  rock  and  a  dif- 
ferent banner  from  that  which  was  this  day  displayed  over 
them.  And  here  he  solemnly  swung  the  bannered  lion  over 
their  heads,  as  the  only  sign  under  which  they  ought  to  seek 
for  life  and  safety.  He  then  proceeded  to  insist  that  re- 
course to  ordinary  justice  was  vain  as  well  as  sinful." 

''The  event  of  that  day  at  Westminster,'^  he  said, 
''  might  teach  them  that  the  man  at  Whitehall  was  even  as 
the  man  his  father "  ;  and  he  closed  a  long  tirade  again  the 
vices  of  the  court  with  assurance  ''that  Tophet  was  or- 
dained of  old — for  the  king  it  was  made  hot.'' 

As  the  preacher  entered  on  a  description  of  the  approach- 
ing theocracy,  which  he  dared  to  prophesy,  Bridgenorth, 

*  See  Venner's  Insurrection.    Note  41. 


PEVEEIL  OF  THE  PEAK  iSft 

who  appeared  for  a  time  to  have  forgotten  the  presence  of 
Julian,  whilst  with  stern  and  fixed  attention  he  drank  in 
the  words  of  the  preacher,  seemed  suddenly  to  collect  him- 
self, and,  taking  Julian  by  the  hand,  led  him  out  of  the 
gallery,  of  which  he  carefully  closed  the  door,  into  an  apart- 
ment at  no  great  distance. 

When  they  arrived  there,  he  anticipated  the  expostula- 
tions of  Julian  by  asking  him,  in  a  tone  of  severe  triumph, 
whether  these  men  he  had  seen  were  likely  to  do  their  work 
negligently,  or  whether  it  would  not  be  perilous  to  attempt 
to  force  their  way  from  a  house  when  all  the  avenues  were 
guarded  by  such  as  he  had  now  seen — men  of  war  from  their 
childhood  upwards. 

"  In  the  name  of  Heaven,^'  said  Julian,  without  replying 
to  Bridgenorth's  question,  ''  for  what  desperate  purpose 
have  you  assembled  so  many  desperate  men  ?  I  am  well 
aware  that  your  sentiments  of  religion  are  peculiar  ;  but 
beware  how  you  deceive  yourself.  No  views  of  religion  can 
sanction  rebellion  and  murder ;  and  such  are  the  natural 
and  necessary  consequences  of  the  doctrine  we  have  just 
heard  poured  into  the  ears  of  fanatical  and  violent  enthusi- 
asts." 

^'My  son,"  said  Bridgenorth,  calmly,  "  in  the  days  of  my 
non-age  I  thought  as  you  do.  I  deemed  it  sufficient  to  pay 
my  tithes  of  cummin  and  anniseed — my  poor  petty  moral 
observances  of  the  old  law  ;  and  I  thought  I  was  heaping 
up  precious  things,  when  they  were  in  value  no  more  than 
the  husks  of  the  swine-trough.  Praised  be  Heaven,  the 
scales  are  fallen  from  mine  eyes,  and  after  forty  years'  wan- 
dering in  the  desert  of  Sinai,  I  am  at  length  arrived  in  the 
land  of  Promise.  My  corrupt  human  nature  has  left  me  :  I 
have  cast  my  slough,  and  can  now  with  some  conscience  put 
my  hand  to  the  plow,  certain  that  there  is  no  weakness  left 
in  me  wherethrough  I  may  look  back.  The  furrows,"  he 
added,  bending  his  brows,  while  a  gloomy  fire  filled  his 
large  eyes,  '^  must  be  drawn  long  and  deep,  and  watered  by 
the  blood  of  the  mighty." 

There  was  a  change  in  Bridgenorth^'s  tone  and  manner, 
when  he  used  these  singular  expressions,  which  convinced 
Julian  that  his  mind,  which  had  wavered  for  so  many  years 
between  his  natural  good  sense  and  the  insane  enthusiasm 
of  the  time,  had  finally  given  way  to  the  latter  ;  and,  sensi- 
ble of  the  danger  in  which  the  unhappy  man  himself,  the 
innocent  and  beautiful  Alice,  and  his  own  father,  were  likely 
to  be  placed,  to  say  nothing  of  the  general  risk  of  the  com- 


4d8  WA  VERLET  NO  VEL8 

munity  by  a  sudden  insurrection,  he  at  the  same  time  felt 
that  there  was  no  chance  of  reasoning  effectually  with  one 
who  would  oppose  spiritual  conviction  to  all  arguments 
which  reason  could  urge  against  his  wild  schemes.  To 
touch  his  feelings  seemed  a  more  probable  resource  ;  and 
Julian  therefore  conjured  Bridgenorth  to  think  how  much 
his  daughter's  honor  and  safety  were  concerned  in  his  ab- 
staining from  the  dangerous  course  which  he  meditated. 
"If  you  fall/'  he  said,  '*  must  she  not  pass  under  the  power 
and  guardianship  of  her  uncle,  whom  you  allow  to  have 
shown  himself  capable  of  the  grossest  mistake  in  the  choice 
of  her  female  protectress  :  and  whom  I  believe,  upon  good 
grounds,  to  have  made  that  infamous  choice  with  his  eyes 
open  .'' 

"Young  man,"  answered  Bridgenorth,  "you  make  me 
feel  like  the  poor  bird  around  whose  wing  some  wanton  boy 
has  fixed  a  line,  to  pull  the  struggling  wretch  to  earth  at 
his  pleasure.  Know,  since  tho^  wilt  play  this  cruel  part, 
and  drag  me  down  from  higher  contemplations,  that  she 
with  whom  Alice  is  placed,  and  who  hath  in  future  full 
power  to  guide  her  motions  and  decide  her  fate,  despite  of 

Christian  and  every  one  else,  is 1  will  not  tell  thee  who 

she  is.  Enough — no  one,  thou  least  of  all,  needs  to  fear  for 
her  safety." 

At  this  moment  a  side  door  opened,  and  Christian  him- 
self came  into  the  apartment.  He  started  and  colored  when 
he  saw  Julian  Peveril ;  then  turning  to  Bridgenorth  with 
an  assumed  air  of  indifference,  asked,  "  Is  Saul  among  the 
prophets  ?     Is  a  Peveril  among  the  saints  ?  " 

"No,  brother,"  replied  Bridgenorth,  "his  time  is  not 
come,  more  than  thine  own  :  thou  art  too  deep  in  the  ambi- 
tious intrigues  of  manhood,  and  he  in  the  giddy  passions  of 
youth,  to  hear  the  still  calm  voice.  You  will  both  hear  it, 
as  I  trust  and  pray." 

"  Master  Ganlesse,  or  Christian,  or  by  whatever  name  you 
are  called,"  said  Julian,  "by  whatever  reasons  you  guide 
yourself  in  this  most  perilous  matter,  you  at  least  are  not 
influenced  by  any  idea  of  an  immediate  Divine  command 
for  commencing  hostilities  against  the  state.  Leaving, 
therefore,  for  the  present  whatever  subjects  of  discussion 
may  be  between  us,  I  implore  you,  as  a  man  of  shrewdness 
and  sense,  to  join  with  me  in  dissuading  Master  Bridge- 
north  from  the  fatal  enterprise  which  he  now  meditates." 

"  Young  gentleman,"  said  Christian,  with  great  compos- 
ure, "  when  we  met  in  the  west,  I  was  willing  to  have  made 


PSVUniL  OF  THE  PEAK  499 

A  friend  of  you,  but  you  rejected  the  overture.  You  might, 
however,  even  then  have  seen  enough  of  me  to  be  assured 
that  I  am  not  likely  to  rush  too  rashly  on  any  desperate  un- 
dertaking. As  to  this  which  lies  before  us,  my  brother 
Bridgenorth  brings  to  it  the  simplicity,  though  not  the 
harmlessness,  of  the  dove,  and  I  the  subtil ty  of  the  serpent. 
He  hath  the  leading  of  saints  who  are  moved  by  the  Spirit ; 
and  I  can  add  to  their  efforts  a  powerful  body,  who  have 
for  their  instigators  the  world,  the  devil,  and  the  flesh/' 

''  And  can  you,"  said  Juh'in,  looking  at  Bridgenorth, 
''accede  to  such  an  unworthy  anion  ?" 

'*  I  unite  not  with  them,''  sa'd  Bridgenorth  ;  ''but  I  may 
not,  without  guilt,  reject  the  ^id  which  Providence  sends  to 
assist  His  servants.  We  are  ourselves  few,  though  deter- 
mined. Those  whose  swords  rjome  to  help  the  cutting  down 
of  the  harvest  must  be  welcome-  When  their  work  is  wrought, 
they  will  be  converted  or  scati/^red.  Have  you  been  at  York 
Place,  brother,  with  that  unstable  epicure  ?  We  must  have 
his  last  resolution,  and  that  within  an  hour." 

Christian  looked  at  Julian,  as  if  his  presence  prevented 
him  from  returning  an  answer  ;  upon  which  Bridgenorth 
arose,  and  taking  the  young  mar,  by  the  arm,  led  him  out 
of  the  apartment,  into  that  in  '^hich  they  had  left  his 
father  assuring  him  by  the  way  f.hat  determined  and  vigilant 
guards  were  placed  in  every  different  quarter  by  which  es- 
cape could  be  effected,  and  that  he  would  do  well  to  per- 
suade his  father  to  remain  a  quiet  prisoner  for  a  few  hours. 

Julian  returned  him  no  answer,  and  Bridgenorth  presently 
retired,  leaving  him  alone  with  his  father  and  Hudson.  To 
their  questions  he  could  only  briefly  rf^ply,  that  he  feared 
they  were  trepanned,  since  they  were  in  the  house  with  at 
least  two  hundred  fanatics,  completely  armed,  and  apparently 
prepared  for  some  desperate  enterprise.  Their  own  want  of 
arras  precluded  the  possibility  of  open  violence  ;  and  how- 
ever unpleasant  it  might  be  to  remain  in  such  a  condition, 
it  seemed  difficult,  from  the  strength  of  the  fastenings  at 
doors  and  windows,  to  attempt  any  secret  escape  without 
instantaneous  detection. 

The  valiant  dwarf  alone  nursed  hopes,  with  which  he  in 
vain  endeavored  to  inspire  his  companions  in  affliction. 
"  The  fair  one,  whose  eyes,"  he  said,  "were  like  the  twin 
stars  of  Leda" — for  the  little  man  was  a  great  admirer  of 
lofty  language — "had  not  invited  him,  the  most  devoted, 
and,  it  might  be,  not  the  least  favored,  of  her  servants,  into 
this  place  as  a  harbor,  in  order  that  he  might  therem  suffer 


500 


WAVJSBLET  NOVELS 


shipwreck  '/'  and  he  generously  assured  his  friends  that  in 
his  safety  they  also  should  be  safe. 

Sir  Geolfrey,  little  cheered  by  this  intimation,  expressed 
his  despair  at  not  being  able  to  get  the  length  of  Whitehall, 
where  he  trusted  to  find  as  many  jolly  Cavaliers  as  would 
help  him  to  stifle  the  whole  nest  of  wasps  in  their  hive ; 
while  Julian  was  of  opinion  that  the  best  service  he  could 
now  render  Bridgenorth  would  be  timeously  to  disclose  his 
plot,  and,  if  possible,  to  send  him  at  the  same  time  warning 
to  save  his  person. 

But  we  must  leave  them  to  meditate  over  their  plans  at 
leisure,  no  one  of  which,  as  they  all  depended  on  their  pre- 
vious escape  from  confinement,  seemed  in  any  great  chance 
of  being  executed. 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

And  some  for  safety  took  the  dreadful  leap, 

Some  for  the  voice  of  Heaven  seem'd  calling  on  them, 

Some  for  advancement,  or  for  lucre's  sake  ; 

I  leap'd  in  frolic. 

The  Dream, 

After  a  private  conversation  with  Bridgenorth,  Christian 
hastened  to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's  hotel,  taking  at  the 
same  time  such  a  route  as  to  avoid  meeting  with  any  ac- 
quaintance. He  was  ushered  into  the  apartment  of  the  duke, 
whom  he  found  cracking  and  eating  filberts,  with  a  flask  of 
excellent  white  wine  at  his  elbow.  "  Christian,"  said  his 
Grace,  *'  come  help  me  to  laugh  :  I  have  bit  Sir  Charles  Sed- 
ley,  flung  him  for  a  thousand,  by  the  gods  ! '' 

*'  I  am  glad  at  your  luck,  my  lord  duke,""  replied  Chris- 
tian ;  **  but  I  am  come  here  on  serious  business.'^ 

^'  Serious  !  why,  I  shall  hardly  be  serious  in  my  life  again 
— ha,  ha,  ha  !  and  for  luck,  it  was  no  such  thing — sheer  wit 
and  excellent  contrivance  ;  and  but  that  I  don't  care  to  af- 
front Fortune,  like  the  old  Greek  general,  I  might  tell  her  to 
her  face — '  In  this  thou  hadst  no  share. '  You  have  heard, 
Ned  Christian,  that  Mother  Cresswell  *  is  dead  ?  " 

*'  Yes,  I  did  hear  that  the  devil  hath  got  his  due,*'  an- 
swered Christian. 

"  Well,''  said  the  duke,  "you  are  ungrateful ;  for  I  know 
you  have  been  obliged  to  her,  as  well  as  others.  Before 
George,  a  most  benevolent  and  helpful  old  lady  :  and  that 
she  might  not  sleep  in  an  unblest  grave,  I  betted — do  you 
mark  me  ? — with  Sedley  that  I  would  write  her  funeral  ser- 
mon, that  it  should  be  every  word  in  praise  of  her  life  and 
conversation,  that  it  should  be  all  true  ;  and  yet  that  the 
diocesan  should  be  unable  to  lay  his  thumb  on  Quodling, 
my  little  chaplain,  who  should  preach  it." 

"  I  perfectly  see  the  difficulty,  my  lord,"  said  Christian, 
who  well  knew  that,  if  he  wished  to  secure  attention  from 
this  volatile  nobleman,  he  must  first  suffer,  nay,  encourage, 
him  to  exhaust  the  topic,  whatever  it  might  be,  that  had  got 
temporary  possession  of  his  pineal  gland. 
See  Note  43, 

m 


602  WAVEELEY  NOVELS, 

"Why/*  said  the  duke,  ''^I  caused  my  little  Quodling  to 
go  through  his  oration  thus  :  "  That  whatever  evil  reports 
had  passed  current  during  the  lifetime  of  the  worthy  matron 
whom  they  had  restored  to  dust  that  day,  malice  itself  could 
not  deny  that  she  was  born  well,  married  well,  lived  well, 
and  died  well ;  since  she  was  born  in  Shadwell,  married  to 
Cresswell,  lived  in  Camber  well,  and  died  in  Bridewell." 
Here  ended  the  oration,  and  with  it  Sedley's  ambitious  hopes 
of  overreaching  Buckingham — ha,  ha,  ha  I  And  now.  Master 
Christian,  what  are  your  commands  for  me  to-day  ?'* 

"  First,  to  thank  your  Grace  for  being  so  attentive  as  to 
send  so  formidable  a  person  as  Colonel  Blood  to  wait  upon 
your  poor  friend  and  servant.  Faith,  he  took  such  an  in- 
terest in  my  leaving  town  that  he  wanted  to  compel  me  to 
do  it  at  point  of  fox,  so  I  was  obliged  to  spill  a  little  of  his 
malapert  blood.  Your  Grace's  swordsmen  have  had  ill  luck 
of  late ;  and  it  is  hard,  since  your  always  choose  the  best 
hands,  and  such  scrupleless  knaves  too." 

"Come  now.  Christian,"  said  the  duke,  "do  not  thus 
exult  over  me  ;  a  great  man,  if  I  may  so  call  myself,  is  never 
greater  than  amid  miscarriage.  I  only  played  this  little 
trick  on  you.  Christian,  to  impress  on  you  a  wholesome  idea 
of  the  interest  I  take  in  your  motions.  The  scoundreFs  hav- 
ing dared  to  draw  upon  you  is  a  thing  not  to  be  forgiven. 
What  !  injure  my  old  friend.  Christian  ?" 

"  And  why  not,"  said  Christian,  coolly,  "  if  your  old 
friend  was  so  stubborn  as  not  to  go  out  of  town,  like  a  good 
boy,  when  your  Grace  required  him  to  do  so,  for  the  civil 
purpose  of  entertaining  his  niece  in  his  absence  ?  " 

"  How — what !  how  do  you  mean  by  my  entertaining 
your  niece.  Master  Christian  ?"  said  the  duke.  "  She  was 
a  personage  far  beyond  my  poor  attentions,  being  destined, 
if  I  recollect  aright,  to  something  like  royal  favor." 

"  It  was  her  fate,  however,  to  be  the  guest  of  your  Grace's 
convent  for  a  brace  of  days  or  so.  Marry,  my  lord,  the  father 
confessor  was  not  at  home,  and — for  convents  have  been 
scaled  of  late — returned  not  till  the  bird  was  flown." 

"  Christian,  thou  art  an  old  reynard — I  see  there  is  no 
doubling  with  thee.  It  was  thou,  then,  stole  away  my  pretty 
prize,  but  left  me  something  so  much  prettier  in  my  mind 
that,  had  it  not  made  itself  wings  to  fly  away  with,  I  would 
have  placed  it  in  a  cage  of  gold.  Never  be  downcast,  men  ; 
I  forgive  thee — I  forgive  thee." 

"  Your  Grace  is  of  a  most  merciful  disposition,  especially 
considering  it  is  I  who  have  had  the  wrong  ;  and  sages  have 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  503 

said  that  he  who  doth  the  injury  is  less  apt  to  forgive  than 
he  who  only  sustains  it." 

"  True — true,  Christian, '^  said  the  duke,  ^'  which,  as  you 
say,  is  something  quite  new,  and  places  my  clemency  in  a 
striking  point  of  view.  Well,  then,  thou  forgiven  man, 
when  shall  I  see  my  Mauritanian  princess  again  'i  " 

"  Whenever  I  am  certain  that  a  quibble,  and  a  carwhichet, 
or  a  play  or  a  sermon,  will  not  banish  her  from  your  Grace's 
memory." 

^^  Not  all  the  wit  of  South  or  of  Etherege,"  said  Bucking- 
ham, hastily,  "  to  say  nothing  of  my  own,  shall  in  future 
make  me  oblivious  of  what  I  owe  the  Morisco  princess." 

'^  Yet,  to  leave  the  fair  lady  out  of  thought  for  a  little 
while — a  very  little  while,"  said  Christian,  ''  since  I  swear 
that  in  due  time  your  Grace  shall  see  her,  and  know  in  her 
the  most  extraordinary  woman  that  the  age  has  produced — 
to  leave  her,  I  say,  out  of  sight  for  a  little  while,  has  your 
Grace  had  late  notice  of  your  duchess's  health  ?  " 

"  Health  !"  said  the  duke.  ''Umph — no — nothing  par- 
ticular.    She  has  been  ill ;  but " 

"  She  is  no  longer  so,"  subjoined  Christian  ;  "she  died  in 
Yorkshire  forty-eight  hours  since." 

"  Thou  must  deal  with  the  devil !"  said  the  duke. 

"  It  would  ill  become  one  of  my  name  to  do  so,"  replied 
Christian.  "But,  in  the  brief  interval  since  your  Grace 
hath  known  of  an  event  which  has  not  yet  reached  the  public 
ear,  you  have,  I  believe,  made  proposals  to  the  King  for  the 
hand  of  Lady  Anne,  second  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  York, 
and  your  Grace's  proposals  have  been  rejected." 

"Fiends  and  firebrands,  villain  !"  said  the  duke,  starting 
up  and  seizing  Christian  by  the  collar ;  "  who  hath  told  thee 
that  ?" 

"  Take  your  hand  from  my  cloak,  my  lord  duke,  and  I 
may  answer  you,"  said  Christian.  "  I  have  a  scurvy  touch 
of  old  Puritanical  humor  about  me  :  I  abide  not  the  impo- 
sition of  hands.  Take  off  your  grasp  from  my  cloak,  or  I 
will  find  means  to  make  you  unloose  it." 

The  duke,  who  had  kept  his  right  hand  on  his  dagger- 
hilt  while  he  held  Christian's  collar  with  his  left,  unloosened 
it  as  he  spoke,  but  slowly,  and  as  one  who  rather  suspends 
than  abandons  the  execution  of  some  hasty  impulse  ;  while 
Christian,  adjusting  his  cloak  with  perfect  composure,  said, 
"  Soh — my  cloak  being  at  liberty,  we  speak  on  equal  terms. 
I  come  not  to  insult  your  Grace,  but  to  offer  you  vengeance 
for  the  insult  you  have  received." 


504  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

"  Vengeance  ! "  said  the  duke.  ''  It  is  the  dearest  proffer 
man  can  present  to  me  in  my  present  mood.  I  hunger  for 
vengeance — thirst  for  vengeance — could  die  to  ensure  venge- 
ance !  'Sdeath ! "  ho  continued,  walking  up  and  down 
the  large  apartment  with  the  most  unrestrained  and  violent 
agitation,  '^  I  have  chased  this  repulse  out  of  my  brain  with 
ten  thousand  trifles,  because  I  thought  no  one  knew  it.  But 
it  is  known,  and  to  thee,  the  very  common  sewer  of  court 
secrets  ;  the  honor  of  Villiers  is  in  thy  keeping,  Ned  Chris- 
tian. Speak,  thou  man  of  wiles  and  of  intrigue  ;  on  whom 
dost  thou  promise  the  vengeance  ?  Speak  !  and  if  thy  an- 
swers meet  my  desires,  I  will  make  a  bargain  with  thee  as 
willingly  as  with  thy  master,  Satan  himself." 

''I  will  not  be,"  said  Christian,  '*^ so  unreasonable  in  my 
terms  as  stories  tell  of  the  old  apostate  :  I  will  offer  your 
Grace,  as  he  might  do,  temporal  prosperity  and  revenge, 
which  is  his  frequent  recruiting  money  ;  but  I  leave  it  to 
yourself  to  provide,  as  you  may  be  pleased,  for  your  future 
salvation." 

The  duke,  gazing  upon  him  fixedly  and  sadly,  replied, 
"  I  would  to  God,  Christian,  that  I  could  read  what  pur- 
pose of  damnable  villainy  thou  hast  to  proprose  to  me  in  thy 
countenance,  without  the  necessity  of  thy  using  words  ! " 

"  Your  Grace  can  but  try  a  guess,"  said  Christian,  calmly 
smiling. 

"  No,"  replied  the  duke,  after  gazing  at  him  again  for  the 
space  of  a  minute  ;  ''  thou  art  so  deeply  dyed  an  hypocrite, 
that  thy  mean  features  and  clear  gray  eyes  are  as  likely  to 
conceal  treason  as  any  petty  scheme  of  theft  or  larceny  more 
corresponding  to  your  degree." 

'*  Treason,  my  lord  ! ' '  echoed  Christian  ;  "  you  may  have 
guessed  more  nearly  than  you  were  aware  of.  I  honor  your 
Grace^s  penetration." 

"  Treason  !  echoed  the  duke.  "  Who  dare  name  such  a 
crime  to  me  ?  "     . 

''  If  a  name  startles  your  Grace,  you  may  call  it  vengeance 
— vengeance  on  the  cabal  of  counselors,  who  have  ever 
countermined  you,  in  spite  of  your  wit  and  your  interest 
with  the  King.  Vengeance  on  Arlington,  Ormond — on 
Charles  himself. 

^^  No,  by  Heaven,"  said  the  duke,  resuming  his  disordered 
walk  through  the  apartment.  *'  Vengeance  on  these  rats 
of  the  privy  council,  come  at  it  as  you  will.  But  the  King  ! 
never — never.  I  have  provoked  him  a  hundred  times,  where 
he  hag  gtirred  me  once.     I  have  crossed  hie  path  in  state 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  505 

intrigue,  rivaled  him  in  love,  had  the  advantage  in  both, 
and,  d — n  it,  he  has  forgiven  me  !  If  treason  would  put  me 
in  his  throne,  I  have  no  apology  for  it :  it  were  worse  than 
bestial  ingratitude/^ 

'^ Nobly  spoken,  my  lord,''  said  Christian;  *^and  con- 
sistent alike  with  the  obligations  under  which  your  Grace 
lies  to  Charles  Stuart  and  the  sense  you  have  ever  shown  of 
them.  But  it  signifies  not.  If  your  Grace  patronize  not  our 
enterprise,  there  is  Shaftesbury,  there  is  Monmouth " 

*^  Scoundrel !"  exclaimed  the  duke,  even  more  vehemently 
agitated  than  before,  "  think  you  that  you  shall  carry  on 
with  others  an  enterprise  which  I  have  refused  ?  No,  by 
every  heathen  and  every  Christian  god  !  Hark  ye,  Christian, 
I  will  arrest  you  on  the  spot — I  will,  by  gods  and  devils,  and 
carry  you  to  unravel  your  plot  at  Whitehall.'' 

"  Where  the  first  words  I  speak,"  answered  the  imperturb- 
able Christian,  ^^  will  be  to  inform  the  privy  council  in  what 
place  they  may  find  certain  letters,  wherewith  your  Grace 
has  honored  your  poor  vassal,  containing,  as  I  think,  par- 
ticulars which  his  Majesty  will  read  with  more  surprise  than 
pleasure." 

'^Sdeath,  villain  !"  said  the  duke,  once  more  laying  his 
hand  on  his  poniard-hilt,  ^'thou  hast  me  again  at  advantage. 
J  know  not  why  I  forbear  to  poniard  you  where  you  stand  ! " 
>  '^  L  might  fall,  my  lord  duke,"  said  Christian,  slightly 
coloring,  and  putting  his  right  hand  into  his  bosom  ^'  though 
not,  I  think,  unavenged,  for  I  have  not  put  my  person  into 
this  peril  altogether  without  means  of  defense.  I  might 
fall,  but,  alas  !  your  Grace's  correspondence  is  in  hands 
which,  by  that  very  act,  would  be  rendered  sufficiently  active 
in  handling  them  to  the  King  and  the  privy  council.  What 
say  you  to  the  Moorish  princess,  my  lord  duke  ?  What  if  I 
have  left  her  executrix  of  my  will,  with  certain  instructions 
how  to  proceed  if  I  return  not  unharmed  from  York  Place  ? 
0,  my  lord,  though  my  head  is  in  the  wolf's  mouth,  I  was 
not  goose  enough  to  place  it  there  without  settling  how 
many  carabines  should  be  fired  on  the  wolf,  so  soon  as  my 
dying  cackle  was  heard.  Pshaw,  my  lord  duke  !  you  deal 
with  a  man  of  sense  and  courage,  yet  you  speak  to  him  as  a 
child  and  a  coward.*' 

The  duke  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  fixed  his  eyes  on  the 
gi'ound,  and  spoke  without  raising  them.  ^^  I  am  about  to 
call  Jerningham,"  he  said  ;  "  but  fear  nothing — it  is  only  for  a 
draught  of  wine.  That  stuff  on  the  table  may  be  a  vehicle 
for  filberts  and  waJnnta,  but  not  for  such  communications  as 


506  WA  VERLEY  NO  VELS 

yours.  Bring  me  champagne/'  he  said  to  the  attendant  who 
answered  on  his  summons. 

The  domestic  returned,  and  brought  a  flask  of  cham- 
pagne, with  two  large  silver  cups.  One  of  them  he  filled 
for  Buckingham,  who,  contrary  to  the  usual  etiquette,  was 
always  served  first  at  home,  and  then  offered  the  other  to 
Christian,  who  declined  to  receive  it. 

The  duke  drank  off  the  large  goblet  which  was  presented 
to  him,  and  for  a  moment  covered  his  forehead  with  the  palm 
of  his  hand  ;  then  instantly  withdrew  it,  and  said,  '*^Ohris- 
tian,  speak  your  errand  plainly.  We  know  each  other.  If 
my  reputation  be  in  some  degree  in  your  hands,  you  are  well 
aware  that  your  life  is  in  mine.  Sit  down,"  he  said,  taking 
a  pistol  from  his  bosom  and  laying  it  on  the  table — ''  sit 
down,  and  let  me  hear  your  proposal. '^ 

"  My  lord,"  said  Christian,  smiling,  "  I  shall  produce  no 
such  ultimate  argument  on  my  part,  though  possibly,  in 
time  of  need,  I  may  not  be  found  destitute  of  them.  But  my 
defense  is  in  the  situation  of  things,  and  in  the  composed 
view  which,  doubtless,  your  Majesty  will  take  of  them." 

''  Majesty  ! "  repeated  the  duke.  *'  My  good  friend  Chris- 
tian, you  have  kept  company  with  the  Puritans  so  long  that 
you  confuse  the  ordinary  titles  of  the  court." 

*^' I  know  not  how  to  apologize,"  said  Christian,  ''unless 
your  Grace  will  suppose  that  I  spoke  by  prophecy." 

''Such  as  the  devil  delivered  to  Macbeth,"  said  the  duke, 
again  paced  the  chamber,  and  again  seated  himself,  and 
said,  "  Be  plain.  Christian — speak  out  at  once,  and  manfully, 
what  is  it  you  intend  ?" 

"/,"  said  Christian.  "  What  should  I  do  ?  I  can  do 
nothing  in  such  a  matter ;  but  I  thought  it  right  that  your 
Grace  should  know  that  the  godly  of  this  city  (he  spoke  the 
word  with  a  kind  of  ironical  grin)  are  impatient  of  inactivity, 
and  must  needs  be  up  and  doing.  My  brother  Bridgenorth 
is  at  the  head  of  all  old  Weiver's  congregation  ;  for  you  must 
know  that,  after  floundering  from  one  faith  to  another,  he 
hath  now  got  beyond  ordinances,  and  is  become  a  Fifth 
Monarchy  man.  He  has  nigh  two  hundred  of  Weiver's  people 
fully  equipped  and  ready  to  fall  on  ;  and,  with  slight  aid 
from  your  Grace's  people,  they  must  carry  Whitehall  and 
make  prisoners  of  all  within  it." 

"  Rascal ! "  said  the  duke,  "  and  is  it  to  a  peer  of  England 
you  make  this  communication  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  answered  Christian,  "  I  admit  it  would  be  extreme 
folly  in  your  Grace  to  appear  until  all  is  over.     But  let  m© 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  607 

give  Blood  and  the  others  a  hint  on  your  part.  There  are  the 
four  Germans  also — right  Knipperdolings  and  Anabaptists — 
will  be  especially  useful.  You  are  wise,  my  lord,  and  know 
the  value  of  a  corps  of  domestic  gladiators,  as  well  as  did  Oc- 
tavius,  Lepidus,  and  Antony,  when,  by  such  family  forces, 
they  divided  the  world  by  indenture  tripartite." 

''  Stay — stay,"  said  the  duke.  "  Even  if  these  blood- 
hounds were  to  join  with  you — not  that  I  would  permit  it 
without  the  most  positive  assurances  for  the  King's  personal 
safety — but  say  the  villains  were  to  join,  what  hope  have 
you  of  carrying  the  court  ?" 

''  Bully  Tom  Armstrong,*  my  lord,  hath  promised  his  in- 
terest with  the  Life  Guards.  Then  there  are  my  Lord 
Shaftesbury's  brisk  boys  in  the  city — thirty  thousand  on  the 
holding  up  a  finger." 

"  Let  him  hold  up  both  hands,  and  if  he  count  a  hundred 
for  each  finger,"  said  the  duke,  '*  it  will  be  more  than  I  ex- 
pect.    You  have  not  spoken  to  him  ?  " 

"  Surely  not,  till  your  Grace's  pleasure  was  known.  But, 
if  he  is  not  applied  to,  there  is  the  Dutch  train,  Hans  Snore- 
hout's  congregation,  in  the  Strand  ;  there  are  the  French 
Protestants  in  Piccadilly  ;  there  are  the  family  of  Levi  in 
Lewkenor's  Lane,  the  Muggletonians  in  Thames  Street " 

''Ah,  faugh!  Out  upon  them — out  upon  them  !  How 
the  knaves  will  stink  of  cheese  and  tobacco  when  they  come 
upon  action  !  they  will  drown  all  the  perfumes  in  Whitehall. 
Spare  me  the  detail,  and  let  me  know,  my  dearest  Ned,  the 
sum  total  of  thy  most  odoriferous  forces." 

"  Fifteen  hundred  men,  well  armed,"  said  Christian,  "  be- 
sides the  rabble  that  will  rise  to  a  certainty ;  they  have  al- 
ready nearly  torn  to  pieces  the  prisoners  who  were  this  day 
acquitted  on  account  of  the  Plot." 

*'  All,  then,  I  understand.  And  now,  hark  ye,  most  Chris- 
tian Christian,"  said  he,  wheeling  his  chair  full  in  front  of 
that  on  which  his  agent  was  seated,  "  you  have  told  me  many 
things  to-day — shall  I  be  equally  communicative  ?  Shall  I 
show  you  that  my  accuracy  of  information  matches  yours  ? 
Shall  I  tell  you,  in  a  word,  why  you  have  at  once  resolved  to 
push  every  one,  from  the  Puritan  to  the  Free-thinker,  upon 
a  general  attack  of  the  palace  at  Whitehall,  without  allowing 
me,  a  peer  of  the  realm,  time  either  to  pause  upon  or  to  pre- 
are  for  a  step  so  desperate  ?  Shall  I  tell  you  why  you  would 
ead  or  drive,  seduce  or  compel,  me  into  countenancing  your 
measures  ?  " 

♦  See  Note  43. 


I 


606 


WAVERLET  NOVELS 


'^  My  lord,  if  you  please  to  form  a  guess/'  said  Christian, 
'*  I  will  answer  with  all  sincerity  if  you  have  assigned  the 
right  cause/' 

"  The  Countess  of  Derby  is  this  day  arrived,  and  attends 
the  court  this  evening  with  hopes  of  the  kindest  reception. 
She  may  be  surprised  amid  the  melee  ?  Ha  !  said  I  not  right. 
Master  Christian  ?  You,  who  pretend  to  offer  me  revenge, 
know  yourself  its  exquisite  sweetness." 

'^I  would  not  presume,''  said  Christian,  half  smiling,  ''to 
offer  your  Grace  a  dish  without  acting  as  your  taster  as  well 
as  purveyor." 

''That's  honestly  said,"  said  the  duke.  "Away,  then, 
my  friend.  Give  Blood  this  ring  ;  he  knows  it,  and  knows 
how  to  obey  him  who  bears  it.  Let  him  assemble  my  gladi- 
ators, as  thou  dost  most  wittily  term  my  coupe-j arrets.  The 
old  scheme  of  the  German  music  may  be  resorted  to,  for  I 
think  thou  hast  the  instruments  ready.  But  take  notice,  I 
know  nothing  on't ;  and  Eowley's  person  must  be  safe  :  I 
will  hang  and  burn  on  all  hands  if  a  hair  of  his  black  periwig  * 
be  but  singed.  Then  what  is  to  follow — a  Lord  Protector  of 
the  realm  ;  or  stay — Cromwell  has  made  the  word  somewhat 
slovenly  and  unpopular — a  Lord  Lieutenant  of  the  kingdom  ? 
The  patriots  who  take  it  on  themselves  to  revenge  the  injus- 
tice done  to  the  country,  and  to  remove  evil  counselors  from 
before  the  King's  throne,  that  it  may  be  henceforward  estab- 
lished in  righteousness — so  I  think  the  rubric  runs — cannot 
fail  to  make  a  fitting  choice." 

"  They  cannot,  my  lord  duke,"  said  Christian,  ''  since  there 
is  but  one  man  in  the  three  kingdoms  on  whom  that  choice 
can  possibly  fall." 

"  I  thank  you,  Christian,"  said  his  Grace  ;  "  and  I  trust 
you.  Away,  and  make  all  ready.  Be  assured  your  services 
shall  not  be  forgot.     We  will  have  you  near  to  us." 

"  My  lord  duke,"  said  Christian,  "you  bind  me  doubly 
to  you.  But  remember,  that  as  your  Grace  is  spared  any 
obnoxious  proceedings  which  may  befall  in  the  way  of  mili- 
tary execution  or  otherwise,  so  it  will  be  advisable  that  you 
hold  yourself  in  preparation,  upon  a  moment's  notice,  to 
put  yourself  at  the  head  of  a  band  of  honorable  friends  and 
allies,  and  come  presently  to  the  palace,  where  you  will  be 
received  by  the  victors  as  a  commander  and  by  the  van- 
quished as  a  preserver." 

"I  conceive,  you — I  conceive  you.  I  will  be  in  prompt 
readiness,"  said  the  duke. 

*  See  Charles's  Black  Periwig.    Note  44. 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  609 

"  Ay,  my  lord,"  continued  Christian  ;  '^  and,  for  Heaven's 
sake,  let  none  of  those  toys,  which  are  the  very  Dalilahs  of 
your  imagination,  come  across  your  Grace  this  evening,  and 
interfere  with  the  execution  of  this  sublime  scheme/^ 

**  Why,  Christian,  dost  think  me  mad  ?"  was  his  Grace^s 
emphatic  reply.  ''It  is  you  who  linger,  when  all  should  be 
ordered  for  a  deed  so  daring.  Go  then.  But  hark  ye,  Ned  ; 
ere  you  go,  tell  me  when  I  shall  again  see  yonder  thing  of 
fire  and  air — yon  Eastern  Peri,  that  glides  into  apartments 
by  the  key-hole,  and  leaves  them  through  the  casement — 
yon  black-eyed  houri  of  the  Mahometan  paradise — when,  I 
say,  shall  I  see  her  once  more  ?  " 

''  When  your  Grace  has  the  truncheon  of  Lord  Lieutenant 
of  the  kingdom,*'  said  Christian,  and  left  the  apartment. 

Buckingham  stood  fixed  in  contemplation  for  a  moment 
after  he  was  gone.  "  Should  I  have  done  this  ?^' he  said, 
arguing  the  matter  with  himself;  ''or  had  I  the  choice, 
rather,  of  doing  aught  else  ?  Should  I  not  hasten  to  the 
court  and  make  Charles  aware  of  the  treason  which  besets 
him  ?  I  will,  by  Heaven  !  Here,  Jerningham,  my  coach, 
with  the  despatch  of  light !  I  will  throw  myself  at  his  feet, 
and  tell  him  of  all  the  follies  which  I  have  dreamed  of  with 
this  Christian.  And  then  he  will  laugh  at  me  and  spurn 
me  ?  No,  I  have  kneeled  to  him  to-day  already,  and  my 
repulse  was  nothing  gentle.  To  be  spurned  once  in  the  sun's 
daily  round  is  enough  for  Buckingham.'' 

Having  made  this  reflection,  he  seated  himself,  and  began 
hastily  to  mark  down  the  young  nobles  and  gentlemen  of 
quality,  and  others  their  very  ignoble  companions,  who,  he 
supposed,  might  be  likely  to  assume  him  for  their  leader  in 
any  popular  disturbance.  He  had  nearly  completed  it,  when 
Jerningham  entered  to  say  the  coach  would  be  ready  in  an 
instant,  and  to  bring  his  master's  sword,  hat,  and  cloak. 

"  Let  the  coachman  draw  off,"  said  the  duke,  "  but  be  in 
readiness.  And  send  to  the  gentlemen  thou  wilt  find  named 
in  this  list ;  say  I  am  but  ill  at  ease,  and  wish  their  company 
to  a  slight  collation.  Let  instant  expedition  be  made,  and 
oare  not  for  expense  ;  you  will  find  most  of  them  at  the 
Club-House  in  Fuller's  Kents."  =* 

The  preparations  for  festivity  were  speedily  made,  and  the 
intended  guests,  most  of  them  persons  who  were  at  leisure 
for  any  call  that  promised  pleasure,  though  sometimes  more 
deaf  to  those  of  duty,  began  speedily  to  assemble.  There 
were  many  youths  of  the  highest  rank,  and  with  them,  as  is 
uniii  xo  cjiii-jia     *  See  Note  45. .'  ^-juJ  &»  ^lioi  ye  OvOjsiuq 


610  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

usual  in  those  circles,  many  of  a  different  class,  whom 
talents,  or  impudence,  or  wit,  or  a  turn  for  gambling,  had 
reared  up  into  companions  for  the  great  and  the  gay.  The 
Duke  of  Buckingham  was  a  general  patron  of  persons  of  thig 
description ;  and  a  numerous  attendance  took  place  on  the 
present  occasion. 

The  festivity  was  pursued  with  the  usual  appliances  of 
wine,  music,  and  games  of  hazard,  with  which,  however, 
there  mingled  in  that  period  much  more  wit,  and  a  good 
deal  more  gross  profligacy  of  conversation,  than  the  talents 
of  the  present  generation  can  supply,  or  their  taste  would 
permit. 

The  duke  himself  proved  the  complete  command  which 
he  possessed  over  his  versatile  character,  by  maintaining 
the  frolic,  the  laugh,  and  the  jest,  while  his  ear  caught  up, 
and  with  eagerness,  the  most  distant  sounds,  as  intimating 
the  commencement  of  Christianas  revolutionary  project. 
Such  sounds  were  heard  from  time  to  time,  and  from  time 
to  time  they  died  away,  without  any  of  those  consequences 
which  Buckingham  expected. 

At  length,  and  when  it  was  late  in  the  evening,  Jerning- 
ham  announced  Master  Chiffinch  from  the  court,  and  that 
worthy  personage  followed  the  annunciation. 

"  Strange  things  have  happened,  my  lord  duke,'*  he  said  ; 
*'  your  presence  at  court  is  instantly  required  by  his  Maj- 


You  alarm  me,''  said  Buckingham,  standing  up.  "  I 
hope  nothing  has  happened — I  hope  there  is  nothing  wrong 
— I  hope  his  Majesty  is  well  ?  " 

'' Perfectly  well,''  said  Chiffinch;  *'and  desirous  to  see 
your  Grace  without  a  moment's  delay." 

"  This  is  sudden,"  said  the  duke.  "  You  see  I  have  had 
merry  fellows  about  me,  and  am  scarce  in  case  to  appear, 
Chiffinch." 

''  Your  Grace  seems  to  be  in  very  handsome  plight,"  said 
Chiffinch  ;  "  and  you  know  his  Majesty  is  gracious  enough 
to  make  allowances." 

*'True,"  said  the  duke,  not  a  little  anxious  in  his  mind 
touching  the  cause  of  this  unexpected  summons — ^'  true,  his 
Majesty  is  most  gracious.     I  will  order  my  coach." 

"  Mine  is  below,"  replied  the  royal  messenger  ;  '*  it  will 
save  time,  if  your  Grace  will  condescend  to  use  it." 

Forced  from  every  evasion,  Buckingham  took  a  goblet 
from  the  table,  and  requested  his  friends  to  remain  at  his 
palace  so  long  as  they  could  find  the  means  of  amusement 


PEVEtttL  OF  THE  PEAK  6ll 

there.  *'  He  expected/'  he  said,  ''  to  return  almost  im- 
mediately ;  if  not,  he  would  take  farewell  of  them  with  his 
usual  toast,  '  May  all  of  us  that  are  not  hanged  in  the  in- 
terval meet  together  again  here  on  the  first  Monday  of  next 
month/'' 

This  standing  toast  of  the  duke  bore  reference  to  the 
character  of  several  of  his  guests ;  but  he  did  not  drink  it 
on  the  present  occasion  without  some  anticipation  concern- 
ing his  own  fate,  in  case  Christian  had  betrayed  him.  He 
hastily  made  some  addition  to  his  dress,  and  attended 
Chiffinch  in  the  chariot  to  Whitehall. 


CHAPTER  XLV 

High  feasting  was  there  there  :  the  gilded  roofs 
Rung  to  the  wassail -health  ;  the  dancer's  step 
Sprung  to  the  chord  responsive  ;  the  gay  gamester 
To  fate's  disposal  flung  his  heap  of  gold, 
And  laugh'd  alike  when  it  increased  or  lessen'd  : 
Such  virtue  hath  court-air  to  teach  us  patience, 
Which  schoolmen  preach  in  vain. 

Why  come  ye  not  to  Court  f 

XJvois  the  afternoon  of  this  eventful  day,  Charles  held  his 
court  in  the  Queen's  apartments,  which  were  opened  at  a 
particular  hour  to  invited  guests  of  a  certain  lower  degree, 
but  accessible  without  restriction  to  the  higher  classes  of 
nobility  who  had  from  birth,  and  to  the  courtiers  who  held 
by  office,  the  privilege  of  the  entree. 

It  was  one  part  of  Charles's  character,  which  unquestion- 
ably rendered  him  personally  popular,  and  postponed  to  a 
subsequent  reign  the  precipitation  of  his  family  from  the 
throne;  that  he  banished  from  his  court  many  of  the  formal 
restrictions  with  which  it  was  in  other  reigns  surrounded. 
He  was  conscious  of  the  good-natured  grace  of  his  manners, 
and  trusted  to  it,  often  not  in  vain,  to  remove  evil  impres- 
sions arising  from  actions  which  he  was  sensible  could  not 
be  justified  on  the  grounds  of  liberal  or  national  policy. 

In  the  daytime  the  King  was  commonly  seen  in  the  public 
walks  alone,  or  only  attended  by  one  or  two  persons  ;  and 
his  answer  to  the  remonstrance  of  his  brother,  on  the  risk  of 
thus  exposing  his  person,  is  well  known.  *' Believe  me, 
James,"  he  said,  "  no  one  will  murder  me  to  make  ^/o^^  king.'' 
.  In  the  same  manner,  Charles's  evenings,  unless  such  as 
were  destined  to  more  secret  pleasures,  were  frequently  spent 
amongst  all  who  had  any  pretense  to  approach  a  courtly 
circle,  and  thus  it  was  upon  the  night  which  we  are  treating 
of.  Queen  Catherine,  reconciled  or  humbled  to  her  fate, 
had  long  ceased  to  express  any  feelings  of  jealousy,  nay, 
seemed  so  absolutely  dead  to  such  a  passion,  that  she  received 
at  her  drawing-room,  without  scruple,  and  even  with  en- 
couragement, the  Duchesses  of  Portsmouth  and  Cleveland, 

512 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  613 

and  others,  who  enjoyed,  though  in  a  less  avowed  character, 
the  credit  of  having  been  royal  favorites.  Constraint  of 
every  kind  was  banished  from  a  circle  so  composed,  and 
which  was  frequented  at  the  same  time,  if  not  by  the  wisest, 
at  least  by  the  wittiest,  courtiers  who  ever  assembled  round 
a  monarch,  and  who,  as  many  of  them  had  shared  the  wants, 
and  shifts,  and  frolics  of  his  exile,  had  thus  acquired  a  sort 
of  prescriptive  license,  which  the  good-natured  prince,  when 
he  attained  his  period  of  prosperity,  could  hardly  have 
restrained  had  it  suited  his  temper  to  do  so.  This,  however, 
was  the  least  of  Charles's  thoughts.  His  manners  were  such 
as  secured  him  from  indelicate  obtrusion  ;  and  he  sought  no 
other  protection  from  over-familiarity  than  what  these  and 
his  ready  wit  afforded  him. 

Oh  the  present  occasion,  he  was  peculiarly  disposed  to 
enjoy  the  scene  of  pleasure  which  had  been  prej^ared.  The 
singular  death  of  Major  Coleby,  which,  taking  place  in  his 
own  presence,  had  proclaimed,  with  the  voice  of  a  passing 
bell,  the  ungrateful  neglect  of  the  prince  for  whom  he  had 
sacrificed  everything,  had  given  Charles  much  pain.  But^ 
in  his  own  opinion  at  least,  he  had  completely  atoned  for 
this  negligence  by  the  trouble  which  he  had  taken  for  Sir 
Geoffrey  Peveril  and  his  son,  whose  liberation  he  looked  upon 
not  only  as  an  excellent  good  deed  in  itself,  but,  in  spite  of 
the  grave  rebuke  of  Ormond,  as  achieved  in  a  very  pardon- 
able manner,  considering  the  difficulties  with  which  he  was 
surrounded.  He  even  felt  a  degree  of  satisfaction  on  receiv- 
ing intelligence  from  the  city  that  there  had  been  disturb- 
ances in  the  streets,  and  that  some  of  the  more  violent 
fanatics  had  betaken  themselves  to  their  meeting-houses, 
upon  sudden  summons,  to  inquire,  as  their  preachers  phrased 
it,  into  the  causes  of  Heaven's  wrath,  and  mto  the  backslid- 
ing of  the  court,  lawyers,  and  jury,  by  whom  the  false  and 
bloody  favorers  of  the  Popish  Plot  were  screened  and  cloaked 
from  deserved  punishment. 

The  King,  we  repeat,  seemed  to  hear  these  accounts  with 
pleasure,  even  when  he  was  reminded  of  the  dangerous  and 
susceptible  character  of  those  with  whom  such  suspicions 
originated.  "  Will  any  one  now  assert,''  he  said,  with  self- 
complacence,  ''that  I  am  so  utterly  negligent  of  the  interest 
of  friends  ?  You  see  the  peril  in  which  I  place  myself,  and 
even  the  risk  to  which  I  have  exposed  the  public  peace,  to 
rescue  a  man  whom  I  have  scarce  seen  for  twenty  years,  and 
then  only  in  his  buff-coat  and  bandeliers,  with  other  train- 
band officers  who  kissed  hands  upon  the  Restoration.  They 
138 


514  )VAVEBLEr  N0V£!L8 

say  kings  have  long  hands ;  I  think  they  have  as  much 
occasion  for  long  memories,  since  they  are  expected  to  watch 
over  and  reward  every  man  in  England  who  hath  but  shown 
his  goodwill  by  crying,  '  God  save  the  King  ! ' " 

"  Nay,  the  rogues  are  even  more  unreasonable  still,"  said 
Sedley  ;  "  for  every  knave  of  them  thinks  himself  entitled 
to  your  Majesty's  protection  in  a  good  cause,  whether  he  has 
cried  '  God  save  the  King/  or  no/' 

The  King  smiled,  and  turned  to  another  part  of  the  stately 
hall,  where  everything  was  assembled  which  could,  accord- 
ing to  the  taste  of  the  age,  make  the  time  glide  pleasantly 
away. 

In  one  place,  a  group  of  the  young  nobility  and  of  the 
ladies  of  the  court  listened  to  the  reader's  acquaintance 
Empson,  who  was  accompanying,  with  his  unrivaled  breath- 
ings on  the  flute,  a  young  siren,  who,  while  her  bosom  pal- 
pitated with  pride  and  with  fear,  warbled  to  the  courtly  and 
august  presence  the  beautiful  air,  beginning, 

"  Young  I  am,  and  yet  unskil'd 
How  to  make  a  lover  yield,"  etc. 

She  performed  her  task  in  a  manner  so  corresponding  with 
the  strains  of  the  amatory  poet  and  the  voluptuous  air  with 
which  the  words  had  been  invested  by  the  celebrated  Purcel, 
that  the  men  crowded  around  in  ecstasies,  while  most  of  the 
ladies  thought  it  proper  either  to  look  extremely  indifferent 
to  the  words  she  sung  or  to  withdraw  from  the  circle  as 
quietly  as  possible.  To  the  song  succeeded  a  concerto, 
performed  by  a  select  band  of  most  admirable  musicians, 
which  the  King,  whose  taste  was  indisputable,  had  himself 
selected. 

At  other  tables  in  the  apartment  the  elder  courtiers  wor- 
shiped fortune,  at  the  various  fashionable  games  of  ombre, 
quadrille,  hazard,  and  the  like ;  while  heaps  of  gold  which 
lay  before  the  players  augmented  or  dwindled  with  every 
turn  of  a  card  or  cast  of  a  die.  Many  a  year's  rent  of  fair 
estates  was  ventured  upon  the  main  of  the  odds,  which, 
spent  in  the  old  desested  manor-house,  had  repaired  the 
ravages  of  Cromwell  upon  its  walls,  and  replaced  the  sources 
of  good  housekeeping  and  hospitality,  that,  exhausted  in  the 
last  age  by  fine  and  sequestration,  were  now  in  a  fair  way  of 
being  annihilated  by  careless  prodigality.  Elsewhere,  under 
cover  of  observing  the  gamester  or  listening  to  the  music, 
the  gallantries  of  that  all-licensed  age  were  practised  among 
the  gay  and  fair,  closely  watched  the  whilst  by  the  ugly  or 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  515 

the  old,  who  promised  themselves  at  least  the  pleasure  of 
observing,  and  it  may  be  that  of  proclaiming,  intrigues  in 
which  they  could  not  be  sharers. 

From  one  table  to  another  glided  the  merry  monarch,  ex- 
changing now  a  glance  with  a  court  beauty,  now  a  jest  with 
a  court  wit,  now  beating  time  to  the  music,  and  anon  losing 
or  winning  a  few  pieces  of  gold  on  the  chance  of  the  game 
to  which  he  stood  nearest — the  most  amiable  of  voluptuaries, 
the  gayest  and  best-natured  of  companions,  the  man  that 
would,  of  all  others,  have  best  sustained  his  character,  had 
life  been  a  continued  banquet,  and  its  only  end  to  enjoy 
the  passing  hour  and  send  it  away  as  pleasantly  as  might 
be. 

But  kings  are  least  of  all  exempted  from  the  ordinary  lot 
of  humanity  ;  and  Seged  of  Ethiopia  is,  amongst  monarchs, 
no  solitary  example  of  the  vanity  of  reckoning  on  a  day  or 
an  hour  of  undisturbed  serenity.  An  attendant  on  the  court 
announced  suddenly  to  their  Majesties  that  a  lady,  who 
would  only  announce  herself  as  a  peeress  of  England,  desired 
to  be  admitted  into  the  presence. 

The  Queen  said,  hastily,  '^  It  was  impossible.  No  peeress, 
without  announcing  her  title,  was  entitled  to  the  privilege 
of  her  rank.^^ 

''I  could  be  sworn, ^'  said  a  nobleman  in  attendance,  '^that 
it  is  some  whim  of  the  Duchess  of  Newcastle. ^^ 

The  attendant  who  brought  the  message  said  that  ^'  He 
did  indeed  believe  it  to  be  the  duchess,  both  from  the  singu- 
larity of  the  message  and  that  the  lady  spoke  with  somewhat 
a  foreign  accent."' 

*'  In  the  name  of  madness,  then,"'  said  the  King,  '^  let  us 
admit  her.  Her  Grace  is  an  entire  raree-show  in  her  own 
person — a  universal  masquerade — indeed,  a  sort  of  private 
Bedlam  Hospital,  her  whole  ideas  being  like  so  many  pa- 
tients crazed  upon  the  subjects  of  love  and  literature,  who 
act  nothing  in  their  vagaries  save  Minerva,  Venus,  and  the 
nine  Muses."' 

'*  Your  Majesty's  pleasure  must  always  supersede  mine/' 
said  the  Queen.  "I  only  hope  I  shall  not  be  expected  to 
entertain  so  fantastic  a  personage.  The  last  time  she  came 
to  court,  Isabella,  (she  spoke  to  one  of  her  Portuguese  ladies 
of  honor),  you  had  not  returned  from  our  lovely  Lisbon — her 
Grace  had  the  assurance  to  assume  a  right  to  bring  a  train- 
bearer  into  my  apartmqpt ;  and  when  this  was  not  allowed, 
what  then,  think  you,  she  did  ?  Even  caused  her  train  to 
be  made  so  long  that  three  mortal  yards  of  satin  and  silver 


616  WA  VERLEY  NO VELS 

remained  in  the  ante-chamber,  supported  by  four  wenches, 
while  the  other  end  was  attached  to  her  Grace's  person,  as 
she  paid  her  duty  at  tlie  upper  end  of  the  presence- room. 
Full  thirty  yards  of  the  most  beautiful  silk  did  her  Grace's 
madness  employ  in  this  manner/' 

'*  And  most  beautiful  damsels  they  were  who  bore  this 
portentous  train,''  said  the  King — '^  a  train  never  equaled 
save  by  that  of  the  great  comet  in  sixty-six.  Sedley  and 
Etherege  told  us  wonders  of  them  ;  for  it  is  one  advantage 
of  this  new  fashion  brought  up  by  the  duchess,  that  a  matron 
may  be  totally  unconscious  of  the  coquetry  of  her  train  and 
its  attendants. 

"  Am  I  to  understand,  then,  your  Majesty's  pleasure  is 
that  the  lady  is  to  be  admitted  ?  "  said  the  usher. 

''  Certainly,"  said  the  King ;  ''  that  is,  if  the  incognita  be 
really  entitled  to  the  honor.  It  may  be  as  well  to  inquire 
her  title ;  there  are  more  madwomen  abroad  than  the  Duchess 
of  Newcastle.  I  will  walk  into  the  ante-room  myself  and 
receive  your  answer." 

But,  ere  Charles  had  reached  the  lower  end  of  the  apart- 
ment in  his  progress  to  the  ante-room,  the  usher  surprised 
the  assembly  by  announcing  a  name  which  had  not  for  many 
a  year  been  heard  in  these  courtly  halls — *'  The  Countess  of 
Derby." 

Stately  and  tall,  and  still,  at  an  advanced  period  of  life, 
having  a  person  unbroken  by  years,  the  noble  lady  advanced 
towards  her  sovereign  with  a  step  resembling  that  with  which 
she  might  have  met  an  equal.  There  was,  indeed,  nothing 
in  her  manner  that  indicated  either  haughtiness  or  assump- 
tion unbecoming  that  presence  ;  but  her  consciousness  of 
wrongs  sustained  from  the  administration  of  Charles,  and  of 
the  superiority  of  the  injured  party  over  those  from  whom, 
or  in  whose  name,  the  injury  had  been  offered,  gave  her 
look  dignity  and  her  step  firmness.  She  was  dressed  in 
widow's  weeds,  of  the  same  fashion  which  were  worn  at  the 
time  her  husband  was  brought  to  the  scaffold,  and  which,  in 
the  thirty  years  subsequent  to  that  event,  she  had  never  per- 
mitted her  tirewoman  to  alter. 

The  surprise  was  no  pleasing  one  to  the  King  ;  and  curs- 
ing in  his  heart  the  rashness  which  had  allowed  the  lady  en- 
trance on  the  gay  scene  in  which  they  were  engaged,  he  saw 
at  the  same  time  the  necessity  of  receiving  her  in  a  manner 
suitable  to  his  own  character  and  her  rank  in  the  British 
court.  He  approached  her  with  an  air  of  welcome,  into 
which  he  threw  all  his  natural  grace,  while  he  began,  ''  Chen 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  617 

Comtesse  de  Derby,  puissante  Reine  de  Ma7i,  notre  trh  au- 
guste  smur '^ 

"  Speak  English,  sire,  if  I  may  presume  to  ask  such  a 
favor/'  said  the  countess.  '*  I  am  a  peeress  of  this  nation, 
mother  to  one  English  earl,  and  widow,  alas,  to  another  ! 
In  England  I  have  spent  my  brief  days  of  happiness,  my 
long  y^ars  of  widowhood  and  sorrow.  France  and  its 
language  are  but  to  me  the  dreams  of  an  uninteresting 
childhood.  I  know  no  tongue  save  that  of  my  husband  and 
my  son.  Permit  me,  as  the  widow  and  mother  of  Derby, 
thus  to  render  my  homage. '* 

She  would  have  kneeled,  but  the  King  gracefully  pre- 
vented her  and,  saluting  her  cheek,  according  to  the  form, 
led  her  towards  the  Queen,  and  himself  performed  the  cere- 
mony of  introduction.  ^^  Your  Majesty,'' he  said,  ''must 
be  informed  that  the  countess  has  imposed  a  restriction  on 
French,  the  language  of  gallantry  and  compliment.  I  trust 
your  Majesty  will,  though  a  foreigner  like  herself,  find 
enough  of  honest  English  to  assure  the  Countess  of  Derby 
with  what  pleasure  we  see  her  at  court  after  the  absence  of 
so  many  years.'' 

''I  will  endeavor  to  do  so  at  least,"  said  the  Queen,  on 
whom  the  appearance  of  the  Countess  of  Derby  made  a  more 
favorable  impression  than  that  of  many  strangers  whom,  at 
the  King's  request,  she  was  in  the  habit  of  receiving  with 
courtesy. 

Charles  himself  again  spoke.  "  To  any  other  lady  of  the 
same  rank  I  might  put  the  question,  why  she  was  so  long 
absent  from  the  circle.  I  fear  I  can  only  ask  the  Countess 
of  Derby  what  fortunate  cause  produces  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  her  here  ?  " 

'^  No  fortunate  cause,  my  liege,  though  one  most  strong 
and  urgent." 

The  King  augured  nothing  agreeable  from  this  commence- 
ment ;  and  in  truth,  from  the  countess's  first  entrance,  he 
had  anticipated  some  unpleasant  explanation,  which  he 
therefore  hastened  to  parry,  having  first  composed  his 
features  into  an  expression  of  sympathy  and  interest. 

"  If,"  said  he,  '*  the  cause  is  of  a  nature  in  which  we  can 
render  assistance,  we  cannot  expect  your  ladyship  should 
enter  upon  it  at  the  present  time  ;  but  a  memorial  addressed 
to  our  secretary,  or,  if  it  is  more  satisfactory,  to  ourselves 
directly,  will  receive  our  immediate,  and,  I  trust  I  need  not 
add,  our  favorable,  construction." 

The  countess  bowed  ^  ith  some  state,  and  answered,  ''  My 


518  WAVERLEY  NOVSLS 

business,  sire,  is  indeed  important ;  but  so  brief,  that  it  need 
not  for  more  than  a  few  minutes  withdraw  your  ear  from 
what  is  more  pleasing  ;  yet  it  is  so  urgent,  that  I  am  afraid 
to  postpone  it  even  for  a  moment." 

"  This  is  unusual,''  said  Charles.  '^  But  you,  Countess  of 
Derby,  are  an  unwonted  guest,  and  must  command  my  time. 
Does  the  matter  require  my  private  ear  ?  " 

''For  my  part,"  said  the  countess,  ''the  whole  court 
might  listen  ;  but  your  Majesty  may  prefer  hearing  me  in 
the  presence  of  one  or  two  of  your  counselors." 

"  Ormond,"  said  the  King,  looking  around,  "attend  us 
for  an  instant ;  and  do  you,  Arlington,  do  the  same." 

The  King  led  the  way  into  an  adjoining  cabinet,  and, 
seating  himself,  requested  the  countess  would  also  take  a 
chair. 

"  It  needs  not,  sire,''  she  replied ;  then  pausing  for  a 
moment,  as  if  to  collect  her  spirits,  she  proceeded  with  firm- 
ness. "Your  Majesty  well  said  that  no  light  cause  had 
drawn  me  from  my  lonely  habitation.  I  came  not  hither 
when  the  property  of  my  son — that  property  which  descended 
to  him  from  a  father  who  died  for  your  Majesty's  rights — 
was  conjured  away  from  him  under  pretext  of  justice,  that 
it  might  first  feed  the  avarice  of  the  rebel  Fairfax  and  then 
supply  the  prodigality  of  his  son-in-law,  Buckingham." 

"  These  are  over  harsh  terms,  lady,"  said  the  King.  "  A 
legal  penalty  was,  as  we  remember,  incurred  by  an  act  of 
irregular  violence  ;  so  our  courts  and  our  laws  term  it, 
though  personally  I  have  no  objection  to  call  it,  with  you, 
an  honorable  revenge.  But  admit  it  were  such,  in  prosecu- 
tion of  the  laws  of  honor,  bitter  legal  consequences  are  often 
necessarily  incurred." 

"  I  come  not  to  argue  for  my  son's  wasted  and  forfeited 
inheritance,  sire,"  said  the  countess  ;  "  I  only  take  credit 
for  my  patience  under  that  afflicting  dispensation.  I  now 
come  to  redeem  the  honor  of  the  house  of  Derby,  more  dear 
to  me  than  all  the  treasures  and  lands  which  ever  belonged 
to  it." 

"  And  by  whom  is  the  honor  of  the  house  of  Derby  im- 
peached ?"  said  the  King ;  "  for,  on  my  word,  you  bring  me 
the  first  news  of  it." 

"  Has  there  one  Narrative,  as  these  wild  fictions  are 
termed,  been  printed  with  regard  to  the  Popish  Plot — this 
pretended  plot,  as  I  will  call  it — in  which  the  honor  of  our 
house  has  not  been  touched  and  tainted  ?  And  are  there 
not  two  noble  gentlemen,  father  and  son,  allies  of  the  house 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  519 

of  Stanley,  about  to  be  placed  in  jeopardy  of  their  lives  on 
account  of  matters  in  which  we  are  the  parties  first  im- 
peached ?  " 

The  King  looked  around  and  smiled  to  Arlington  and 
Ormond.  *'  The  countesses  courage,  methinks,  shames  ours. 
What  lips  dared  have  called  the  immaculate  Flot  pretended, 
or  the  Narrative  of  the  witnesses,  our  preservers  from  Popish 
knives,  a  wild  fiction  ?  But,  madam,^'  he  said,  *' though  I 
admire  the  generosity  of  your  interference  in  behalf  of  the 
two  Peverils,  I  must  acquaint  you  that  your  interference  is 
unnecessary  :  they  are  this  morning  acquitted/^ 

"  Now  may  God  be  praised  ! ''  said  the  countess,  folding 
her  hands.  '^I  have  scarce  slept  since  I  heard  the  news  of 
their  impeachment ;  and  have  arrived  here  to  surrender 
myself  to  your  Majesty's  justice,  or  to  the  prejudices  of  the 
nation,  in  hopes,  by  so  doing,  I  might  at  least  save  the 
livesof  my  noble  and  generous  friends,  enveloped  in  suspicion 
only,  or  chiefly,  by  their  connection  with  us.  -  Are  they 
indeed  acquitted  ?" 

"  They  are,  by  my  honor/'  said  the  King.  *'  I  marvel 
you  heard  it  not.'' 

"  I  arrived  but  last  night,  and  remained  in  the  strictest 
seclusion,"  said  the  countess,  '^  afraid  to  make  any  inquiries 
that  might  occasion  discovery  ere  I  saw  your  Majesty.'^ 

*'  And  now  that  we  have  met,''  said  the  King,  taking  her 
hand  kindly — ^'a  meeting  which  gives  me  the  greatest 
pleasure — may  I  recommend  to  you  speedily  to  return  to 
your  royal  island  with  as  little  eclat  as  you  came  hither  ? 
The  world,  my  dear  countess,  has  changed  since  we  were 
young.  Men  fought  in  the  Civil  War  with  good  swords  and 
muskets  ;  but  now  we  fight  with  indictments  and  oaths,  and 
such-like  legal  weapons.  You  are  no  adept  in  such  war- 
fare ;  and  though  I  am  well  aware  you  know  how  to  hold 
out  a  castle,  I  doubt  much  if  you  have  the  art  to  parry  off 
an  impeachment.  This  Plot  has  come  upon  us  like  a  land 
storm  ;  there  is  no  steering  the  vessel  in  the  teeth  of  the 
tempest,  we  must  run  for  the  nearest  haven,  and  happy  if 
we  can  reach  one." 

''  This  is  cowardice,  my  liege,"  said  the  countess.  ''  For- 
give the  word  !  it  is  but  a  woman  who  speaks  it.  Call  your 
noble  friends  around  you,  and  make  a  stand  like  your  royal 
father.  There  is  but  one  right  and  one  wrong — one  honor- 
able and  forward  course ;  and  all  others  which  deviate  are 
oblique  and  unworthy." 

"Your  language,  my  venerated  friend/'  said   Ormond, 


520  WA VERLET  NOVELS 

who  saw  the  necessity  of  interfering  betwixt  the  dignity  of 
the  actual  sovereign  and  the  freedom  of  the  countess,  who 
was  generally  accustomed  to  receive,  not  to  pay,  observance 
— ^'your  language  is  strong  and  decided,  but  it  applies  not 
to  the  times.  It  might  occasion  a  renewal  of  the  Civil  War 
and  of  all  its  miseries,  but  could  hardly  be  attended  with 
the  effects  you  sanguinely  anticipate/' 

"  You  are  too  rash,  my  lady  countess, *'  said  Arlington, 
*'not  only  to  rush  upon  this  danger  yourself,  but  to  desire 
to  involve  his  Majesty.  Let  me  say  plainly  that,  in  this 
jealous  time,  you  have  done  but  ill  to  exchange  the  security 
of  Castle  Kusiiin  for  the  chance  of  a  lodging  in  the  Tower 
of  London.'' 

'*  And  were  I  to  kiss  the  block  there,"  said  the  countess, 
*'  as  did  my  husband  at  Bolton-on-the-Moors,  I  would  do  so 
willingly,  rather  than  forsake  a  friend  !  and  one,  too,  whom, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  younger  Peveril,  I  have  thrust  upon 
danger." 

''  But  have  I  not  assured  you  that  both  of  the  Peverils, 
elder  and  younger,  are  freed  from  peril  ?  "  said  the  King  ; 
"and,  my  dear  countess,  what  can  else  tempt  you  to  thrust 
yourself  on  danger,  from  which,  doubtless,  you  expect  to  be 
relieved  by  my  intervention  ?  Methinks  a  lady  of  your 
judgment  should  not  voluntarily  throw  hereelf  into  a  river, 
merely  that  her  friends  might  have  the  risk  and  merit  of 
dragging  her  out." 

The  countess  reiterated  her  intention  to  claim  a  fair  trial. 
The  two  counselors  again  pressed  their  advice  that  she 
should  withdraw,  though  under  the  charge  of  absconding 
from  justice,  and  remain  in  her  own  feudal  kingdom. 

The  King,  seeing  no  termination  to  the  debate,  gently 
reminded  the  countess  that  her  Majesty  would  be  jealous  if 
he  detained  her  ladyship  longer,  and  offered  her  his  hand  to 
conduct  her  back  to  the  company.  This  she  was  under  the 
necessity  of  accepting,  and  returned  accordingly  to  the 
apartments  of  state,  where  an  event  occurred  immediately 
afterwards  which  must  be  transferred  to  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XLVI 

Here  stand  I  tight  and  trim, 

Quick  of  eye,  though  little  of  limb  ; 

He  who  denieth  the  word  I  have  spoken. 

Betwixt  him  and  me  shall  lances  be  broken. 

Lay  of  the  Little  John  de  Saintre. 

When"  Charles  had  re-conducted  the  Countess  of  Derby 
into  the  presence-chamber,  before  he  parted  with  her,  he 
entreated  her,  in  a  whisper,  to  be  governed  by  good  counsel, 
and  to  regard  her  own  safety  ;  and  then  turned  easily  from 
her,  as  if  to  distribute  his  attentions  equally  among  the  other 
guests. 

These  were  a  good  deal  circumscribed  at  the  instant  by 
the  arrival  of  a  party  of  five  or  six  musicians,  one  of  whom, 
a  German,  under  the  patronage  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
was  particularly  renowned  for  his  performance  on  the  violon- 
cello, but  had  been  detained  in  inactivity  in  the  ante-chamber 
by  the  non-arrival  of  his  instrument,  which  had  now  at  length 
made  its  appearance. 

The  domestic  who  placed  it  before  the  owner,  shrouded  as 
it  was  within  its  wooden  case,  seemed  heartily  glad  to  be  rid 
of  his  load,  and  lingered  for  a  moment,  as  if  interested  in 
discovering  what  sort  of  instrument  was  to  be  produced  that 
could  weigh  so  heavily.  His  curiosity  was  satisfied,  and  in 
a  most  extraordinary  manner  ;  for,  while  the  musician  was 
fumbling  with  the  key,  the  case  being  for  his  greater  conven- 
ience placed  upright  against  the  wall,  the  case  and  instru- 
ment itself  at  once  flew  open,  and  out  started  the  dwarf, 
Geoffrey  Hudson,  at  sight  of  whose  unearthly  appearance, 
thus  suddenly  introduced,  the  ladies  shrieked  and  ran  back- 
wards, the  gentlemen  started,  and  the  poor  German,  on  seeing 
the  portentous  delivery  of  his  fiddle-case,  tumbled  on  the 
floor  in  an  agony,  supposing,  it  might  be,  that  his  instrument 
was  metamorphosed  into  the  strange  figure  which  supplied 
its  place.  So  soon,  however,  as  he  recovered,  he  glided  out 
of  the  apartment,  and  was  followed  by  most  of  his  compan- 
ions. 

''  Hudson  ! "  said  the  King.  ''  My  little  old  friend,  I  am 
not  sorry  to  see  you  ;  though   Buckingham,  who  I  suppose 

521 


522  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

is  the  purveyor  of  this  jest,  hath  served  us  up  but  a  stale 
one." 

"  Will  your  Majesty  honor  me  with  one  moment's  atten- 
tion ?  "  said  Hudson. 

'^ Assuredly,  my  good  friend,''  said  the  King.  ''Old 
acquaintances  are  springing  up  in  every  quarter  to-night  ; 
and  our  leisure  can  hardly  be  better  employed  than  in  listen- 
ing to  them.  It  was  an  idle  trick  of  Buckingham,"  he 
added,  in  a  whisper  to  Ormond,  * '  to  send  the  poor  thing 
hither,  especially  as  he  was  to-day  tried  for  the  affair  of  the 
Plot.  At  any  rate,  he  comes  not  to  ask  protection  from  us, 
having  had  the  rare  fortune  to  come  off  plot-free.  He  is  but 
fishing,  I  suppose,  for  some  little  present  or  pension." 

The  little  man,  precise  in  court  etiquette,  yet  impatient  of 
the  King's  delaying  to  attend  to  him,  stood  in  the  midst  of 
the  floor,  most  valorously  pawing  and  prancing,  like  a  Scots 
pony  assuming  the  airs  of  a  war-horse,  waving  meanwhile 
his  little  hat  with  the  tarnished  feather,  and  bowing  from 
time  to  time,  as  if  impatient  to  be  heard. 

" Speak  on,  then,  my  friend,"  said  Charles;  '^  if  thou 
hast  some  poetical  address  penned  for  thee,  out  with  it,  that 
thou  mayst  have  time  to  repose  these  flourishing  little  limbs 
of  thine." 

*'  No  poetical  speech  have  I,  most  mighty  sovereign,"  an- 
swered the  dwarf  ;  '^  but,  in  plain  and  most  loyal  prose,  I  do 
accuse,  before  this  company,  the  once  noble  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham of  high  treason  I  " 

''  Well  spoken,  and  manfully.  Get  on,  man,"  said  the 
King,  who  never  doubted  that  this  was  the  introduction  to 
something  burlesque  or  witty,  not  conceiving  that  the  charge 
was  made  in  solemn  earnest. 

A  great  laugh  took  place  among  such  courtiers  as  heard, 
and  among  many  who  did  not  hear,  what  has  uttered  by  the 
dwarf  ;  the  former  entertained  by  the  extravagant  emphasis 
and  gesticulation  of  the  little  champion,  and  the  others 
laughing  not  the  less  loud  that  they  laughed  for  example's 
sake,  and  upon  trust. 

**  What  matter  is  there  for  all  this  mirth  ?  "  said  he,  very 
indignantly.  "  Is  it  fit  subject  for  laughing,  that  I,  Geoffrey 
Hudson,  knight,  do,  before  king  and  nobles,  impeach  George 
Villiers,  Duke  of  Buckingham,  of  high  treason  ?" 

"  No  subject  of  mirth,  certainly,"  said  Charles,  compos- 
ing his  features  ;  **  but  great  matter  of  wonder.  Come,  cease 
this  mouthing,  and  prancing,  and  mummery.  If  there  be  a 
jest,  come,  out  with  it,  man ;  and  if  not,  even  get  thee  to 


PEVERIL  OF  TEE  PEAK  523 

the  beauffet,  and  drink  a  cup  of  wine  to  refresh  thee  after 
thy  close  lodging/' 

*'  I  tell  you,  my  liege/'  said  Hudson,  impatiently,  yet  in 
a  whisper,  intended  only  to  be  audible  by  the  King,  ''  that 
if  you  spend  over  much  time  in  trifling,  you  will  be  con- 
vinced by  dire  experience  of  Buckingham's  treason.  I  tell 
you — I  asseverate  to  your  Majesty — two  hundred  armed 
fanatics  will  be  here  within  the  hour,  to  surprise  the  guards/' 

"Stand  back,  ladies,"  said  the  King,  '^^or  you  may  hear 
more  than  you  will  care  to  listen  to.  My  Lord  of  Bucking- 
ham's jests  are  not  always,  you  know,  quite  fitted  for  female 
ears ;  besides  we  want  a  few  words  in  private  with  our  little 
friend.  You,  my  Lord  of  Ormond — you  Arlington  (and  he 
named  one  or  two  others),  may  remain  with  us." 

The  gay  crowd  bore  back,  and  dispersed  through  the 
apartment — the  men  to  conjecture  what  the  end  of  this  mum- 
mery, as  they  supposed  it,  was  likely  to  prove  ;  and  what 
jest,  as  Sedley  said,  the  bass-fiddle  had  been  brought  to  bed 
of,  and  the  ladies  to  admire  and  criticise  the  antique  dress 
and  richly  embroidered  ruff  and  hood  of  the  Countess  of 
Derby,  to  whom  the  Queen  was  showing  particular  attention. 

''  And  now,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  and  amongst  friends," 
said  the  King  to  the  dwarf,  '^  what  means  all  this  ?  " 

''  Treason,  my  lord  the  King  ! — treason  to  his  Majesty  of 
England  !  When  1  was  chambered  in  yonder  instrument, 
my  lord,  the  High-Dutch  fellows  who  bore  me  carried  me 
into  a  certain  chapel,  to  see,  as  they  said  to  each  other,  that 
all  was  ready.  Sire,  I  went  where  bass-fiddle  never  went  be- 
fore, even  into  a  conventicle  of  Fifth  Monarchists  ;  and  when 
they  brought  me  away,  the  preacher  was  concluding  his  ser- 
mon, and  was  within  a  '  Now  to  apply '  of  setting  off  like  the 
bell-wether  at  the  head  of  his  flock,  to  surprise  your  Majesty 
in  your  royal  court.  I  heard  him  through  the  sound-holes 
of  my  instrument,  when  the  fellow  set  me  down  for  a  moment 
to  profit  by  this  precious  doctrine." 

"  It  would  be  singular,"  said  Lord  Arlington,  "  were  there 
some  reality  at  the  bottom  of  this  buffoonery  ;  for  we  know 
these  wild  men  have  been  consulting  together  to-day,  and 
five  conventicles  have  held  a  solemn  fast." 

"  Nay,"  said  the  King,  ''  if  that  be  the  case,  they  are 
certainly  determined  on  some  villainy." 

"  Might  I  advise,"  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  ''  I  would 
summon  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  to  this  presence.  His 
connections  with  the  fanatics  are  well  known,  though  he 
affects  to  conceal  them/* 


524  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''You  would  not,  my  lord,  do  his  Grace  the  injustice  to 
treat  him  as  a  criminal  on  such  a  charge  as  this  ?"  said  the 
King.  ''  However,"  he  added,  after  a  moment's  considera- 
tion, ''  Buckingham  is  accessible  to  every  sort  of  temptation; 
from  the  flightiness  of  his  genius.  I  should  not  be  surprised 
if  he  nourished  hopes  of  an  aspiring  kind.  I  think  we  had 
some  proof  of  it  but  lately.  Hark  ye,  Chiffinch  ;  go  to  him 
instantly,  and  bring  him  here  on  any  fair  pretext  thou  canst 
devise.  I  would  fain  save  him  from  what  lawyers  call  an 
overt  act.  The  court  would  be  dull  as  a  dead  horse  were 
Buckingham  to  miscarry.^' 

''  Will  not  your  Majesty  order  the  Horse  Guards  to 
turn  out  ?"  said  young  Selby,  who  was  present  and  an 
officer. 

"No,  Selby,"  said  the  King,  "Hike  not  horse-play.  But 
let  them  be  prepared  ;  and  let  the  high  bailiff  collect  his  civil 
officers,  and  command  the  sheriffs  *  to  summon  their  wor- 
shipful attendants,  from  javelin-men  to  hangmen,  and  have 
them  in  readiness,  in  case  of  any  sudden  tumult ;  double  the 
sentinels  on  the  doors  of  the  palace,  and  see  no  strangers 
get  in." 

"  Or  out,"  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond.  "  Where  are  the 
foreign  fellows  who  brought  in  the  dwarf  ?  " 

They  were  sought  for,  but  they  were  not  to  be  found. 
They  had  retreated,  leaving  their  instruments — a  circum- 
stance which  seemed  to  bear  hard  on  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, their  patron. 

Hasty  preparations  were  made  to  provide  resistance  to  any 
effort  of  despair  which  the  supposed  conspirators  might  be 
driven  to  ;  and  in  the  meanwhile,  the  King,  withdrawing 
with  Arlington,  Ormond,  and  a  few  other  counselors,  into 
the  cabinet  where  the  Countess  of  Derby  had  had  her  au- 
dience, resumed  the  examination  of  the  little  discoverer. 
His  declaration,  though  singular,  was  quite  coherent,  the 
strain  of  romance  intermingled  with  it  being,  in  fact,  a  part 
of  his  character,  which  often  gained  him  the  fate  of  being 
laughed  at,  when  he  would  otherwise  have  been  pitied,  or 
even  esteemed. 

He  commenced  with  a  flourish  about  his  sufferings  for  the 
Plot,  which  the  impatience  of  Ormond  would  have  cut  short, 
had  not  the  King  reminded  his  Grace  that  a  top,  when  it  is 
not  flogged,  must  needs  go  down  of  itself  at  the  end  Ox  a 
definite  time,  while  the  application  of  the  whip  may  keep  it 
up  for  hours. 

*SeeNote46. 


PEVEHIL  OF  THE  BEAK  626 

Geoffrey  Hudson  was,  therefore,  allowed  to  exhaust  himself 
on  the  subject  of  his  prison-house,  which  he  informed  the 
King  was  not  without  a  beam  of  light — an  emanation  of  love- 
liness— a  mortal  angel — quick  of  step  and  beautiful  of  eye, 
who  had  more  than  once  visited  his  confinement  with  words 
of  cheering  and  comfort. 

*'By  my  faith,^'  said  the  King,  "they  fare  better  in  New- 
gate than  I  was  aware  of.  Who  would  have  thought  of  the 
little  gentleman  being  solaced  with  female  society  in  such  a 
place  ?  " 

"  I  pray  your  Majesty,''  said  the  dwarf,  after  the  manner 
of  a  solemn  protest,  "  to  understand  nothing  amiss.  My 
devotion  to  this  fair  creature  is  rather  like  what  we  poor 
Catholics  pay  to  the  blessed  saints  than  mixed  with  any  gross- 
er quality.  Indeed  she  seems  rather  a  sylphid  of  the  Eosicru- 
cian  system  than  aught  more  carnal;  being  slighter,  lighter, 
and  less  than  the  females  of  common  life,  who  have  some- 
thing of  that  coarseness  of  make  which  is  doubtless  derived 
from  the  sinful  and  gigantic  race  of  the  antediluvians.'' 

"  Well,  say  on,  man,"  quoth  Charles.  "  Didst  thou  not 
discover  this  sylph  to  a  mere  mortal  wench  after  all  ?" 

"  Who  ?     I,  my  liege  ?     0  fie  !  " 

"  Nay,  little  gentleman,  do  not  be  so  particularly  scandal- 
ized," said  the  King  ;  "  I  promise  you,  I  suspect  you  of  no 
audacity  of  gallantry." 

'^  Time  wears  fast,"  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  impatiently, 
and  looking  at  his  watch.  *^  Chifiinch  hath  been  gone  ten 
minutes,  and  ten  minutes  will  bring  him  back." 

"  True,"  said  Charles,  gravely.  "  Come  to  the  point, 
Hudson  ;  and  tell  us  what  this  female  has  to  do  with  your 
coming  hither  in  this  extraordinary  manner." 

"Everything,  my  lord,"  said  little  Hudson.  "I  saw  her 
twice  during  my  confinement  in  Newgate,  and,  in  my 
thought,  she  is  the  very  angel  that  guards  my  life  and  wel- 
fare ;  for,  after  my  acquittal,  as  I  walked  towards  the  city 
with  two  tall  gentlemen,  who  had  been  in  trouble  along  with 
me,  and  just  while  we  stood  to  our  defense  against  a  rascally 
mob,  and  just  as  I  had  taken  possession  of  an  elevated  situa- 
tion to  have  some  vantage  against  the  great  odds  of  numbers, 
I  heard  a  Heavenly  voice  sound,  as  it  were,  from  a  window 
behind  me,  counseling  me  to  take  refuge  in  a  certain  house  ; 
to  which  measure  I  readily  persuaded  my  gallant  friends  the 
Peverilii,  who  have  always  shown  themselves  willing  to  be 
counseled  by  me." 

"Showing  therein  their  wisdom  at  once  and  modesty,** 


526  WAVEnLEt  NOVELS 

said  the  King.  "  But  what  chanced  next  ?  Be  brief — t)e 
like  thyself,  man/' 

"  For  a  time,  sire/''  said  the  dwarf,  '^  it  seemed  as  if  I  were 
not  the  principal  object  of  attention.  First,  the  younger 
Peveril  was  withdrawn  from  us  by  a  gentleman  of  venerable 
appearance,  though  somewhat  smacking  of  a  Puritan,  hav- 
ing boots  of  neat's  leather,  and  wearing  his  weapon  without 
a  sword-knot.  When  Master  Julian  returned,  he  informed 
us,  for  the  first  time,  that  we  were  in  the  power  of  a  body  of 
armed  fanatics,  who  were,  as  the  poet  says,  ^  prompt  for 
direful  act.'  And  your  Majesty  will  remark  that  both  father 
and  son  were  in  some  measure  desperate,  and  disregardful 
from  that  moment  of  the  assurances  which  I  gave  them,  that 
the  star  which  I  was  bound  to  worship  would,  in  her  own 
time,  shine  forth  in  signal  of  our  safety.  May  it  please  your 
Majesty,  in  answer  to  my  hilarious  exhortations  to  confidence, 
the  father  did  but  say  *  tush '  and  the  son  '  pshaw,'  which 
showed  how  men's  prudence  and  manners  are  disturbed  by 
affliction.  Nevertheless,  these  two  gentlemen,  the  Peverils, 
forming  a  strong  opinion  of  the  necessity  there  was  to  break 
forth,  were  it  only  to  convey  a  knowledge  of  these  dangerous 
passages  to  your  Majesty,  commenced  an  assault  on  the  door 
of  the  apartment,  I  also  assisting  with  the  strength  which 
Heaven  hath  given,  and  some  threescore  years  have  left  me. 
We  could  not,  as  it  unhappily  proved,  manage  our  attempt 
so  silently  but  that  our  guards  overheard  us,  and,  entering  in 
numbers,  separated  us  from  each  other,  and  compelled  my 
companions,  at  point  of  pike  and  poniard,  to  go  to  some 
other  and  more  distant  apartment,  thus  separating  our  fair 
society.  I  was  again  inclosed  in  the  now  solitary  chamber, 
and  I  will  own  that  I  felt  a  certain  depression  of  soul.  But 
'when  bale  is  at  highest,'  as  the  poet  singeth,  'boot  is  at 
nighest,'  for  a  door  of  hope  was  suddenly  opened " 

*'  In  the  name  of  Grod,  my  liege,"  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond, 
"  let  this  poor  creature's  story  be  translated  into  the  language 
of  common  sense  by  some  of  the  scribblers  of  romances  about 
court,  and  we  may  be  able  to  make  meaning  of  it." 

Geoffrey  Hudson  looked  with  a  frowning  countenance  of 
reproof  upon  the  impatient  old  Irish  nobleman,  and  said, 
with  a  very  dignified  air,  '^  That  one  duke  upon  a  poor  gentle- 
man's hand  was  enough  at  a  time,  and  that,  but  for  his  present 
engagement  and  dependency  with  the  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
he  would  have  endured  no  such  terms  from  the  Duke  oi 
Ormond." 

"  Abate  your  valor  and  diminish  your  choler,  at  our  re- 


FEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  527 

quest,  most  puissant  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson/'  said  the  King  ; 
*'  and  forgive  the  Duke  of  Ormond  for  my  sake  ;  but  at  all 
events  go  on  with  your  story." 

Geoffrey  Hudson  laid  his  hand  on  his  bosom  and  bowed  in 

Eroud  and  dignified  submission  to  his  sovereign  ;  then  waved 
is  forgiveness  gracefully  to  Ormond,  accompanied  with  a 
horrible  grin,  which  he  designed  for  a  smile  of  gracious 
forgiveness  and  conciliation.  ''Under  the  duke's  favor, 
then,''  he  proceeded,  ''when  I  said  a  door  of  hope  was 
opened  to  me,  I  meant  a  door  behind  the  tapestry,  from 
whence  issued  that  fair  vision— yet  not  so  fair  as  lustrously 
dark,  like  the  beauty  of  a  continental  night,  where  the  cloud- 
less azure  sky  shrouds  us  in  a  veil  more  lovely  than  that  of 
day  1  But  I  note  your  Majesty's  impatience.  Enough — I 
followed  my  beautiful  guide  into  an  apartment,  where  there 
lay,  strangely  intermingled,  warlike  arms  and  musical  instru- 
ments. Amongst  these  I  saw  my  own  late  place  of  tempo- 
rary obscurity — a  violoncello.  To  my  astonishment,  she 
turned  around  the  instrument,  and  opening  it  behind  by 
pressure  of  a  spring,  showed  that  it  was  filled  with  pistols, 
daggers,  and  ammunition  made  up  in  bandoliers.  '  These,' 
she  said,  '  are  this  night  destined  to  surprise  the  court  of  the 
unwary  Charles' — your  Majesty  must  pardon  my  using  her 
own  words — '  but  if  thou  darest  go  in  their  stead,  thou  mayst 
be  the  saviour  of  king  and  kingdoms  ;  if  thou  art  afraid,  keep 
secret,  I  will  myself  try  the  adventure.  Now,  may  Heaven 
forbid  that  Geoffrey  Hudson  were  craven  enough,'  said  I, 
'  to  let  thee  run  such  a  risk  !  You  know  not — you  cannot 
know,  what  belongs  to  such  ambuscades  and  concealments. 
I  am  accustomed  to  them  :  have  lurked  in  the  pocket  of  a 
giant,  and  have  formed  the  contents  of  a  pasty.'  '  Get  in, 
then,'  she  said,  *  and  lose  no  time.'  Nevertheless,  while  I 
prepared  to  obey,  I  will  not  deny  that  some  cold  apprehen- 
sions came  over  my  hot  valor,  and  I  confessed  to  her,  if  it 
might  so  be,  I  would  rather  find  my  way  to  the  palace  on  my 
own  feet.*  But  she  would  not  listen  to  me,  saying  hastily, 
"  I  would  be  intercepted,  or  refused  admittance,  and  that  I 
must  embrace  the  means  she  offered  me  of  introduction  into 
the  presence,  and  when  there  tell  the  King  to  be  on  his 
guard  ;  little  more  is  necessary,  for  once  the  scheme  is  known 
it  becomes  desperate.'  Kashly  and  boldly  I  bid  adieu  to  the 
daylight,  which  was  then  fading  away.  She  withdrew  the 
contents  of  the  instrument  destined  for  my  concealment, 

♦  See  Geoffrey  Kudspp  ii;i  a  Pie.    Note  47, 


528  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  having  put  them  behind  the  chimney-board,  introduced 
me  in  their  room.  As  she  clasped  me  in,  I  implored  her  to 
warn  the  men  who  were  to  be  entrusted  with  me  to  take 
heed  and  keep  the  neck  of  the  violoncello  uppermost  ;  but 
here  I  had  completed  my  request,  I  found  I  was  left  alone, 
and  in  darkness.  Presently,  two  or  three  fellows  entered, 
whom,  by  their  language,  which  I  in  some  sort  understood, 
I  perceived  to  be  Germans,  and  under  the  influence  of  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham.  I  heard  them  receive  from  the  leader 
a  charge  how  they  were  to  deport  themselves  when  they 
should  assume  the  concealed  arms  ;  and — for  I  will  do  the 
duke  no  wrong — I  understood  their  orders  were  precise,  not 
only  to  spare  the  person  of  the  King,  but  also  those  of  the 
courtiers,  and  to  protect  all  who  might  be  in  the  presence 
against  an  irruption  of  the  fanatics.  In  other  respects,  they 
had  charge  to  disarm  the  gentlemen-pensioners  in  the  guard- 
room, and,  in  fine,  to  obtain  the  command  of  the  court.'* 

The  King  looked  disconcerted  and  thoughtful  at  this 
communication,  and  bade  Lord  Arlington  see  that  Selby 
quietly  made  search  into  the  contents  of  the  other  cases 
which  had  been  brought  as  containing  musical  instruments. 
He  then  signed  to  the  dwarf  to  proceed  in  his  story,  asking 
him  again  and  again,  and  very  solemnly,  whether  he  was  sure 
that  he  heard  the  duke's  name  mentioned,  as  commanding 
or  approving  this  action. 

The  dwarf  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

'^  This,'"  said  the  King,  '^  is  carrying  the  frolic  somewhat 
far.'' 

The  dwarf  proceeded  to  state,  that,  "  He  was  carried  after 
his  metamorphosis  into  the  chapel,  where  he  heard  the 
l.)reacher  seemingly  about  the  close  of  his  harangue,"  the 
tenor  of  which  he  also  mentioned.  ^^  Words,"  he  said, 
^' could  not  express  the  agony  which  he  felt  when  he  found 
that  his  bearer,  in  placing  the  instrument  in  a  corner,  was 
about  to  invert  its  position,  in  which  (5ase,"  he  said,  ''  human 
frailty  might  have  proved  too  great  for  love,  for  loyalty,  for 
true  obedience,  nay,  for  the  fear  of  death,  which  was  like  to 
ensue  on  discovery  "  ;  and  he  concluded,  that  "  he  greatly 
doubted  he  could  not  have  stood  on  his  head  for  many 
minutes  without  screaming  aloud.^' 

'*I  could  not  have  blamed  you,"  said  the  King  ;  '^  placed 
in  such  a  posture  in  the  royal  oak,  I  must  needs  have  roared 
myself.  Is  this  all  you  have  to  tell  us  of  this  strange  con- 
spiracy ?"  Sir  Geoffrey  Hudson  replied  in  the  affirmative, 
and  the  King  presently  subjoined — "Go,  my  little  friend  ; 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  J^EAK  828 

your  services  shall  not  be  forgotten.  Since  thou  hast  crept 
into  the  bowels  of  a  fiddle  for  our  service,  we  are  bound  in 
duty  and  conscience,  to  find  you  a  more  roomy  dwelling  in 
future." 

^'  It  was  a  violoncello,  if  your  Majesty  is  pleased  to  re- 
member," said  the  little  jealous  man,  ''  not  a  common  fiddle  ; 
though,  for  your  Majesty's  service,  I  would  have  crept  even 
into  a  kit." 

'*'  Whatever  of  that  nature  could  have  been  performed  by 
any  subject  of  ours,  thou  wouldst  have  enacted  in  our  behalf, 
of  that  we  hold  ourselves  certain.  Withdraw  for  a  little  ; 
and  hark  ye,  for  the  present,  beware  what  you  say  about 
this  matter.  Let  your  appearance  be  considered — do  you 
mark  me — as  a  frolic  of  the- Duke  of  Buckingham  ;  and  not 
a  word  of  conspiracy." 

*^  Were  it  not  better  to  put  him  under  somer  estraint,  sire?  " 
said  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  when  Hudson  had  left  the  room. 

^'  It  is  unnecessary,"  said  the  King.  ''  I  remember  the 
little  wretch  of  old.  Fortune,  to  make  him  the  niodel  of 
absurdity,  has  closed  a  most  lofty  soul  within  that  little 
miserable  carcass.  For  wielding  his  sword  and  keeping  his 
word,  he  is  a  perfect  Don  Quixote  in  decimo-octavo.  He 
shall  be  taken  care  of.  But,  odds-fish,  my  lords,  is  not  this 
freak  of  Buckingham  too  villainous  and  ungrateful  ?  " 

''He  had  not  had  the  means  of  being  so,  had  your 
Majesty,"  said  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  ''been  less  lenient  on 
other  occasions." 

"  My  lord — my  lord,"  said  Charles,  hastily,  '^  your  lord- 
ship is  Buckingham's  known  enemy  ;  we  will  take  other  and 
more  impartial  counsel.  Arlington,  what  think  you  of  all 
this?" 

"  May  it  please  your  Majesty,"  said  Arlington,  ''I  think 
the  thing  is  absolutely  impossible,  unless  the  duke  has  had 
some  quarrel  with  your  Majesty  of  which  we  know  nothing. 
His  Grace  is  very  flighty,  doubtless,  but  this  seems  actual 
insanity." 

"  Why,  faith,"  said  the  King,  "  some  words  passed  be- 
twixt us  this  morning  ;  his  duchess  it  seems  is  dead,  -and,  to 
lose  no  time,  his  Grace  had  cast  his  eyes  about  for  means  of 
repairing  the  loss,  and  had  the  assurance  to  ask  our  consent 
to  woo  my  niece.  Lady  Anne." 

"Which  your  Majesty  of  course  rejected?"  said  the 
statesman. 

"And  not  without  rebuking  his  assurance,"  added   the 
King. 
u 


530  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

'*  In  private,  sir,  or  before  any  witnesses  ?  "  said  the  Duke 
of  Ormond. 

''  Before  no  one/'  said  the  King — "  excepting,  indeed, 
little  Chiffinch  ;  and  he,  you  know,  is  no  one." 

'*  Hinc  illcB  lachrymce"  said  Ormond.  ^'  I  know  his  Grace 
well.  While  the  rebuke  of  his  aspiring  petulance  was  a 
matter  betwixt  your  Majesty  and  him,  he  might  have  let  it 
pass  by  ;  but  a  check  before  a  fellow  from  whom  it  was  likely 
enough  to  travel  through  the  court  was  a  matter  to  be 
revenged.'' 

Here  Selby  came  hastily  from  the  other  room,  to  say  that 
his  Grace  of  Buckingham  had  just  entered  the  presence- 
chamber. 

The  King  rose.  "  Let  a  boat  be  in  readiness,  with  a  party 
of  the  yeomen,"  said  he.  *'It  maybe  necessary  to  attach 
him  of  treason  and  send  him  to  the  Tower." 

'^  Should  not  a  Secretary  of  State's  warrant  be  prepared  ?" 
said  Ormond. 

''No,  my  lord  duke,"  said  the  King,  sharply.  ''I  gtill 
hope  that  the  necessity  may  be  avoided.'* 


OSAPTER  JfLVlt 

High  reaching  Buckinghan  grows  circumspect. 

Richard  III. 

Befoke  giving  the  reader  an  account  of  the  meeting  be- 
twixt Buckingham  and  his  injured  sovereign^,  we  may  men- 
tion a  trifling  circumstance  or  two  which  took  place  betwixt 
his  Grace  and  Chiffinch,  in  the  short  drive  betwixt  York 
Place  and  Whitehall. 

In  the  outset,  the  duke  endeavored  to  learn  from  the 
courtier  the  special  cause  of  his  being  summoned  so  hastily 
to  the  court.  Chiffinch  answered,  cautiously,  that  ''  He 
believed  there  were  some  gambols  going  forward,  at  which 
the  King  desired  the  duke^s  presence. 

This  did  not  quite  satisfy  Buckingham,  for,  conscious  of 
his  own  rash  purpose,  he  could  not  but  apprehend  discovery. 
After  a  moment's  silence,  "  Chiffinch,^'  he  said,  abruptly, 
"  did  you  mention  to  anyone  what  the  King  said  to  me 
this  morning  touching  the  Lady  Anne  ?  " 

**  My  lord  duke,''  said  Chiffinch,  hesitating,  ''surely  my 
duty  to  the  King,  my  respect  to  your  Grace " 

''You  mentioned  it  to  no  one,  then  ?"  said  the  duke, 
sternly. 

"To  no  one,'' replied  Chiffinch,  faintly,  for  he  was  in- 
timidated by  the  duke's  increasing  severity  of  manner. 

"  You  lie,like  a  scoundrel  !"  said  the  duke.  "  You  told 
Christian." 

"  Your  Grace,"  said  Chiffinch — "  your  Grace — your  Grace 
ought  to  remember  that  I  told  you  Christian's  secret,  that 
the  Countess  of  Derby  was  come  up." 

"  And  you  think  the  one  point  of  treachery  may  balance 
for  the  other  ?  But  no.  I  must  have  a  better  atonement. 
Be  assured  I  will  blow  your  brains  out,  ere  you  leave  this 
carriage,  unless  you  tell  me  the  truth  of  this  message  from 
court." 

As  Chiffinch  hesitated  what  reply  to  make,  a  man,  who, 
by  the  blaze  of  the  torches,  then  always  borne  as  well  by  the 
lackeys  who  hung  behind  the  carriage  as  by  the  footmen 
who  ran  by  the  side,  might  easily  see  who  sat  in  the  coach, 

631 


33^  WA VERLEY  NOVELS 

approached,  and  sung  in  a  deep  manly  voice  the  burden  of 
an  old  French  song  *  on  the  battle  of  Marignan,  in  which  is 
imitated  the  German  French  of  the  defeated  Swiss — 

*'  Tout  est  verlore, 
La  tintelore, 
Tout  est  verier 

Bei  Got." 

'*  I  am  betrayed/'  said  the  duke,  who  instantly  conceived 
that  this  chorus,  expressing  ^'  all  is  lost,''  was  sung  by  one 
of  his  faithful  agents,  as  a  hint  to  him  that  their  machina- 
tions were  discovered. 

He  attempted  to  throw  himself  from  the  carriage,  but 
Chiffinch  held  him  with  a  firm,  though  respectful,  grasp. 
^*Do  not  destroy  yourself,  my  lord,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of 
deep  humility  ;  *'  there  are  soldiers  and  officers  of  the  peace 
around  the  carriage,  to  enforce  your  Grace's  coming  to  White- 
hall, and  to  prevent  your  escape.  To  attempt  it  would  be 
to  confess  guilt,  and  I  advise  you  strongly  against  that ;  the 
King  is  your  friend — be  your  own." 

The  duke,  after  a  moment's  consideration,  said  sullenly. 
"  I  believe  you  are  right.  Why  should  I  fly,  when  I  am 
guilty  of  nothing  but  sending  some  fireworks  to  entertain 
the  court,  instead  of  a  concert  of  music  ?" 

''And  the  dwarf,  who  came  so  unexpectedly  out  of  the 
bass-viol " 

''  Was  a  masking  device  of  my  own,  Chiffinch,"  said  the 
duke  though  the  circumstance  was  then  first  known  to  him. 
"  Chiffinch,  you  will  bind  me  forever  if  you  will  permit 
me  to  have  a  minute's  conversation  with  Christian." 

"  With  Christian,  my  lord  ?  Where  could  you  find  him  ? 
You  are  aware  we  must  go  straight  on  to  the  court." 

**  True,"  said  the  duke,  ''but  I  think  I  cannot  miss  find- 
ing him  ;  and  you.  Master  Chiffinch,  are  no  officer,  and  have 
no  warrant  either  to  detain  me  prisoner  or  prevent  my  speak- 
ing to  whom  I  please." 

Chiffinch  replied,  "My  lord  duke,  your  genius  is  so  great, 
and  your  escapes  so  numerous,  that  if  will  be  from  no  wish 
of  my  own  if  I  am  forced  to  hurt  a  man  so  skilful  and  so 
popular." 

"Nay,  then,  there  is  life  in  it  yet,"  said  the  duke,  and 
whistled  ;  when,  from  beside  the  little  cutler's  booth,  with 
which  the  reader  is  acquainted,  appeared,  suddenly,  Master 

*  See  Note  48. 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  533 

Christian,  and  was  in  a  moment  at   the  side  of  the  coach. 
"  Ganzist  verloren,"  said  the  duke. 

'^^I  know  \i"  said  Christian  ;  "  and  all  our  godly  friends 
are  dispersed  upon  the  news.  Lucky  the  colonel  and  these 
German  rascals  gave  a  hint.  All  is  safe.  You  go  to  court. 
Hark  ye,  I  will  follow.'' 

'^You,  Christian?  that  would  be  more  friendly  than 
wise." 

*'Why,  what  is  there  against  me  ?''  said  Christian.  ''I 
am  innocent  as  the  child  unborn,  so  is  your  Grace.  There 
is  but  one  creature  who  can  bear  witness  to  our  guilt ;  but  I 
trust  to  bring  her  on  the  stage  in  our  favor  ;  besides,  if  I 
went  not,  I  should  presently  be  sent  for.'' 

"  The  familiar  of  whom  I  have  heard  you  speak,  I  war- 
rant ?  " 

"  Hark  in  your  ear  again." 

^'1  understand,"  said  the  duke,  '*and  will  delay  Master. 
Chiffinch — for  he,  you  must  know,  is  my  conductor — no 
longer.  Well,  Chiffinch,  let  them  drive  on.  Vogue  la 
galeref  he  exclaimed,  as  the  carriage  went  onward;  ^^  I 
have  sailed  through  worse  perils  than  this  yet." 

''  It  is  not  for  me  to  judge,"  said  Chiffinch  ;  "  your  Grace 
is  a  bold  commander,  and  Christian  hath  the  cunning  of  the 

devil  for  a  pilot  ;  but However,  I  remain  your  Grace's 

poor  friend,  and  will  heartily  rejoice  in  your  extrication." 

'^  Give  me  a  proof  of  your  friendship,"  said  the  duke. 
*'  Tell  me  what  you  know  of  Christian's  familiar,  as  he  calls 
her." 

^'  I  believe  it  to  be  the  same  dancing  wench  who  came 
with  Empson  to  my  house  on  the  morning  that  Mistress 
Alice  made  her  escape  from  us.  But  you  have  seen  her,  my 
lord." 

'a  ! "  said  the  duke.     ''  When  did  I  see  her  ?  " 

"  She  was  employed  by  Christian,  I  believe,  to  set  his 
niece  at  liberty,  when  he  found  himself  obliged  to  gratify 
his  fanatical  brother-in-law,  by  restoring  his  child  ;  besides 
being  prompted  by  a  private  desire,  as  I  think,  of  bantering 
your  Grace." 

**Umph  !  I  suspected  so  much.  I  will  repay  it,"  said  the 
duke.  "  But  first  to  get  out  of  this  dilemma.  That  little 
Numidian  witch,  then,  was  his  familiar  ;  and  she  joined  in 
the  plot  to  tantalize  me  ?  But  here  we  reach  Whitehall. 
Now,  Chiffinch,  be  no  worse  than  thy  word,  and — now, 
Buckingham,  be  thyself  !  " 

But  ere  we  follow  Buckingham  into  the  presence,  where 


534  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

he  had  so  difficnlt  a  part  to  sustain,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 
follow  Christian  after  his  brief  conversation  with  him.  On 
re-entering  the  house,  which  he  did  by  a  circuitous  passage, 
leading  from  a  distant  alley,  and  through  several  courts. 
Christian  hastened  to  a  low  matted  apartment,  in  which 
Bridgenorth  sat  alone,  reading  the  Bible  by  the  light  of  a 
small  brazen  lamp,  with  the  utmost  serenity  of  countenance. 

''Have  you  dismissed  the  Peverils?^^  said  Christian, 
hastily. 

''  I  have,''  said  the  major. 

"  And  upon  what  pledge  that  they  will  not  carry  informa- 
tion against  you  to  Whitehall  ?  " 

''  They  gave  me  their  promise  voluntarily,  when  I  showed 
them  our  armed  friends  were  dismissed.  To-morrow,  I 
believe,  it  is  their  purpose  to  lodge  informations.^' 

"  And  why  not  to-night,  I  pray  you  ?  "  said  Christian. 

*'  Because  they  allow  us  that  time  for  escape." 

*'  Why,  then,  do  you  not  avail  yourself  of  it  ?  Wherefore 
are  you  here  ?  "said  Christian. 

*'  Nay,  rather,  why  do  you  not  fly  ?  "  said  Bridgenorth. 
''  Of  a  surety,  you  are  as  deeply  engaged  as  I." 

*'  Brother  Bridgenorth,  1  am  the  fox,  who  knows  a  hun- 
dred modes  of  deceiving  the  hounds  ;  you  are  the  deer,  whose 
sole  resource  is  in  hasty  flight.  Therefore  lose  no  time — 
begone  to  the  country ;  or  rather,  Zedekiah  Fishes  vessel, 
the  "  Good  Hope,"  lies  in  the  river,  bound  for  Massachusetts 
— take  the  wings  of  the  morning,  and  begone  to  America  ;  she 
can  fall  down  to  Gravesend  with  the  tide." 

*' And  leave  to  thee,  brother  Christian,"  said  Bridgenorth, 
"  the  charge  of  my  fortune  and  my  daughter  ?  No,  brother  ; 
my  opinion  of  your  good  faith  must  be  re-established  ere  I 
again  trust  thee." 

"  Go  thy  ways,  then,  for  a  suspicious  fool,"  said  Christian, 
suppressing  his  strong  desire  to  use  language  more  offensive  ; 
*'  or  rather  stay  where  thou  art,  and  take  thy  chance  of  the 
gallows  ! " 

'*  It  is  appointed  to  all  men  to  die  once,"  said  Bridge- 
north  ;  "my  life  hath  been  a  living  death.  My  fairest 
boughs  have  been  stripped  by  the  ax  of  the  forester  ; 
that  which  survives  must,  if  it  shall  blossom,  be  grafted 
elsewhere,  and  at  a  distance  from  my  aged  trunk.  The 
sooner,  then,  the  root  feels  the  axe,  the  stroke  is  more  wel- 
come. I  had  been  pleased,  indeed,  had  I  been  called  to 
bringing  yonder  licentious  court  to  a  purer  character,  and 
relieving  the  yoke  of  the  suffering  people  of  God,     That 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  5.W 

youth  too — son  to  that  precious  woman  to  whom  I  owe  the 
last  tie  that  feebly  links  my  wearied  spirit  to  humanity — 
could  I  have  travailed  with  him  in  the  good  cause  !  But 
that,  with  all  my  other  hopes,  is  broken  forever  ;  and  since 
I  am  not  worthy  to  be  an  instrument  in  so  great  a  work,  I 
have  little  desire  to  abide  longer  in  this  vale  of  sorrow/ 

"  Farewell,  then,  desponding  fool ! "  said  Christian,  un- 
able, with  all  his  calmness,  any  longer  to  suppress  his  con- 
tempt for  the  resigned  and  hopeless  predestinarian.  ''  That 
fate  should  have  clogged  me  with  such  confederates  I"  he 
muttered,  as  he  left  the  apartment.  ''  This  bigoted  fool  is 
now  nearly  irreclaimable.  I  must  to  Zarah  ;  for  she,  or  no 
one,  must  carry  us  through  these  straits.  If  I  can  but 
soothe  her  sullen  temper,  and  excite  her  vanity  to  action, 
betwixt  her  address,  the  King's  partiality  for  the  duke, 
Buckingham's  matchless  effrontery,  and  my  own  hand  upon 
the  helm,  we  may  yet  weather  the  tempest  that  darkens 
around  us.     But  what  we  do  must  be  hastily  done.'' 

In  another  apartment  he  found  the  person  he  sought — 
the  same  who  visited  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's  harem,  and, 
having  relieved  Alice  Bridgenorth  from  her  confinement 
there,  had  occupied  her  place,  as  has  been  already  narrated, 
or  rather  intimated.  She  was  now  much  more  plainly  at- 
tired than  when  she  had  tantalized  the  duke  with  her  pres- 
ence ;  but  her  dress  had  still  something  of  the  Oriental 
character,  which  corresponded  with  the  dark  complexion 
and  quick  eye  of  the  wearer.  She  had  the  kerchief  at  her 
eyes  as  Christian  entered  the  apartment,  but  suddenly  with- 
drew it,  and,  flashing  on  him  a  glance  of  scorn  and  indigna- 
tion, asked  him  what  he  meant  by  intruding  where  his  com- 
pany was  alike  unsought  for  and  undesired. 

*' A  proper  question,"  said  Christian,  "from  a  slave  to 
her  master  ! " 

"  Eather  say,  a  proper  question,  and  of  all  questions  the 
most  proper,  from  a  mistress  to  her  slave  !  Know  you  not, 
that  from  the  hour  in  which  you  discovered  your  ineffable 
baseness,  you  have  made  me  mistress  of  your  lot  ?  While 
you  seemed  but  a  demon  of  vengeance,  you  commanded  ter- 
ror, and  to  good  purpose  ;  but  such  a  foul  fiend  as  thou 
hast  of  late  shown  thyself — such  a  very  worthless,  base 
trickster  of  the  devil — such  a  sordid,  groveling  imp  of 
perdition,  can  gain  nothing  but  scorn  from  a  soul  like 
mine." 

*'  Gallantly  mouthed,"  said  Christian,  "  and  with  good 
emphasis." 


536  WA  VEUL  EY  NO  VEL8 

"  Yes/'  answered  Zarah,  '*  I  can  speak  ;  sometimes  I  can 
also  be  mute,  and  that  no  one  knows  better  than  thou." 

"  Thou  art  a  spoiled  child,  Zarah,  and  dost  but  abuse  the  in- 
dulgence I  entertain  for  your  freakish  humor,"  replied  Chris- 
tian ;  *Hhy  wits  have  been  disturbed  since  ever  you  landed 
in  England,  and  all  for  the  sake  of  one  who  cares  for  thee 
no  more  than  for  the  most  worthless  object  who  walks  the 
streets,  amongst  whom  he  left  you  to  engage  in  a  brawl  for 
one  he  loved  better." 

"  It  is  no  matter,"  said  Zarah,  obviously  repressing  very  bit- 
ter emotion — ''  it  signifies  not  that  he  loves  another  better  ; 
there  is  none — no,  none — that  ever  did  or  can  love  t"*m  so 
well." 

"  I  pity  you,  Zarah  ! "  said  Christian,  with  some  scorn. 

"  I  deserve  your  pity,"  she  replied,  '^  were  your  pity  worth 
my  accepting.  Whom  have  I  to  thank  for  my  wretchedness 
but  you  ?  You  bred  me  up  in  thirst  of  vengeance,  ere  I 
knew  that  good  and  evil  were  anything  better  than  names  ; 
to  gain  your  applause  and  to  gratify  the  vanity  you  had  ex- 
cited, I  have  for  years  undergone  a  penance  from  which  a 
thousand  would  have  shrunk."   . 

^'A  thousand,  Zarah!"  answered  Christian;  ''ay,  a 
hundred  thousand,  and  a  million  to  boot  :  the  creature  is 
not  on  earth,  being  mere  mortal  woman,  that  would  have 
undergone  the  thirtieth  part  of  thy  self-denial." 

*'  I  believe  it,"  said  Zarah,  drawing  up  her  slight  but  elegant 
figure — ''  I  believe  it ;  I  have  gone  through  a  trial  that  few  in- 
deed could  have  sustained.  I  have  renounced  the  dear  inter- 
course of  my  kind  ;  compelled  my  tongue  only  to  utter,  like 
that  of  a  spy,  the  knowledge  which  my  ear  had  only  collected 
as  a  base  eavesdropper.  This  I  have  done  for  years — for  years  ; 
and  all  for  the  sake  of  your  private  applause,  and  the  hope 
of  vengeance  on  a  woman  who,  if  she  did  ill  in  murdering 
my  father,  has  been  bitterly  repaid  by  nourishing  a  serpent 
in  her  bosom,  that  had  the  tooth,  but  not  the  deafened  ear, 
of  the  adder." 

''  Well — well — well,"  reiterated  Christian  ;  "  and  had  you 
not  your  reward  in  my  approbation — in  the  consciousness  of 
your  own  unequaled  dexterity,  by  which,  superior  to  any- 
thing of  thy  sex  that  history  has  ever  known,  you  endured 
what  woman  never  before  endured — insolence  without  no- 
tice, admiration  without  answer,  and  sarcasm  without 
reply?" 

"  Not  without  reply  ! "  said  Zarah,  fiercely.  "  Gave  not 
nature  to  my  feelings  a  course  of  expression  more  impressive 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  587 

than  words  ?  and  did  not  these  tremble  at  my  shrieks  who 
would  have  little  minded  my  entreaties  or  my  complaints  ? 
And  my  proud  lady,  who  sauced  her  charities  with  the 
taunts  she  thought  I  heard  not— she  was  justly  paid  by  the 
passing  of  her  dearest  and  most  secret  concerns  into  tlie 
hands  of  her  mortal  enemy  ;  and  the  vain  earl — yet  he  was 
a  thing  as  insignificant  as  the  plume  that  nodded  in  his  cap  ; 
and  the  maidens  and  ladies  who  taunted  me — I  had,  pr  can 
easily  have,  my  revenge  upon  them.  But  there  is  07ie/'  she 
added,  looking  upward,  *'  who  never  taunted  me — one  whose 
generous  feelings  could  treat  the  poor  dumb  girl  even  as  his 
sister — who  never  spoke  word  of  her  but  it  was  to  excuse  or 
defend  ;  and  you  tell  me  I  must  not  love  him,  and  that  it  is 
madness  to  love  him  !  I  will  be  mad  then,  for  I  will  love 
him  till  the  latest  breath  of  my  life  ! " 

"  Think  but  an  instant,  silly  girl — silly  but  in  one  respect, 
since  in  all  others  thou  mayst  brave  the  world  of  women. 
Think  that  I  have  proposed  to  thee,  for  the  loss  of  this  hope- 
less affection,  a  career  so  brilliant  !  Think  only  that  it  rests 
with  thyself  to  be  the  wife — the  wedded  wife — of  the  princely 
Buckingham  !  With  my  talents,  with  thy  wit  and  beauty, 
with  his  passionate  love  of  these  attributes,  a  short  space 
might  rank  you  among  England's  princesses.  Be  but  guided 
by  me  ;  he  is  now  at  a  deadly  pass,  needs  every  assistance  to 
retrieve  his  fortunes — above  all,  that  which  we  alone  can 
render  him.  Put  yourself  under  my  conduct,  and  not  fate 
itself  shall  prevent  your  wearing  a  duchess's  coronet.'' 

'*  A  coronet  of  thistle-down,  entwined  with  thorns,"  said 
Zarah.  "  I  know  not  a  slighter  thing  than  your  Bucking- 
ham !  I  saw  him  at  your  request — saw  him  when,  as  a  man, 
he  should  have  shown  himself  generous  and  noble.  I  stood 
the  proof  at  your  desire,  for  I  laugh  at  those  dangers  from 
which  the  poor  blushing  wallers  of  my  sex  shrink  and  with- 
draw themselves.  What  did  I  find  him  ?  a  poor  wavering 
voluptuary — his  nearest  attempt  to  passion  like  the  fire  on  a 
wretched  stubble-field,  that  may  singe,  indeed,  or  smoke, 
but  can  neither  warm  nor  devour.  Christian  !  were  his 
coronet  at  my  feet  this  moment,  I  would  sooner  take  up  a 
crown  of  gilded  gingerbread  than  extend  my  hand  to  raise 
it." 

^'  You  are  mad,  Zarah — with  all  your  taste  and  talent,  you 
are  utterly  mad  !  But  let  Buckingham  pass.  Do  you  owe 
me  nothing  on  this  emergency — ^nothing  to  one  who  rescued 
you  from  the  cruelty  of  your  owner,  the  posture-master,  to 
place  yon  in  ease  and  affluence  ?  " 


538  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

"  Christian,"  she  replied,  ''I  owe  you  much.  Had  I  not 
felt  I  did  so,  I  would,  as  I  have  been  often  tempted  to  do, 
have  denounced  thee  to  the  fierce  countess,  who  would  have 
gibbeted  you  on  her  feudal  walls  of  Castle  Rushin,  and  bid 
your  family  seek  redress  from  the  eagles,  that  would  long 
since  have  thatched  their  nest  with  your  hair,  and  fed  their 
young  ospreys  with  your  flesh/' 

*'  I  am  truly  glad  you  have  had  so  much  forbearance  for 
me,"  answered  Christian. 

"  I  have  it  in  truth  and  in  sincerity,"  replied  Zarah,  ^'  not 
for  your  benefits  to  me  ;  such  as  they  were,  they  were  every 
one  interested,  and  conferred  from  the  most  selfish  consider- 
ations. 1  have  overpaid  them  a  thousand  times  by  the 
devotion  to  your  will  which  I  have  displayed  at  the  greatest 
personal  risk.  But  till  of  late  I  respected  your  powers  of 
mind — your  inimitable  command  of  passion — the  force  of 
intellect  which  I  have  ever  seen  you  exercise  over  all  others, 
from  the  bigot  Bridgenorth  to  the  debauched  Buckingham 
— in  that,  indeed,  I  have  recognized  my  master." 

'^  And  those  powers,"  said  Christian,  ''  are  unlimited  as 
ever  ;  and  with  thy  assistance,  thou  shalt  see  the  strongest 
meshes  that  the  laws  of  civil  society  ever  wove  to  limit  the 
natural  dignity  of  man  broke  asunder  like  a  spider's  web." 

She  paused  and  answered,  "  While  a  noble  motive  fired 
thee — ay,  a  noble  motive,  though  irregular — for  I  was  born 
to  gaze  on  the  sun  which  the  pale  daughters  of  Europe 
shrink  from — I  could  serve  thee  :  I  could  have  followed, 
while  revenge  or  ambition  had  guided  thee — but  love  of 
wealih,  and  by  what  means  acquired !  What  sympathy 
can  I  hold  with  that  ?  Wouldst  thou  not  have  pandered  to 
the  lust  of  the  King,  though  the  object  was  thine  own 
orphan  niece  ?  You  smile.  Smile  again  when  I  ask  you 
whether  you  meant  not  my  own  prostitution  when  you 
charged  me  to  remain  in  the  house  of  that  wretched  Buck- 
ingham. Smile  at  that  question,  and  by  Heaven  I  stab  you 
to  the  heart ! "  And  she  thrust  her  hand  into  her  bosom, 
and  partly  showed  the  hilt  of  a  small  poniard. 

"  And  if  I  smile,"  said  Christian,  *^'it  is  but  in  scorn  of  so 
odious  an  accusation.  Girl,  I  will  not  tell  thee  the  reason, 
but  there  exists  not  on  earth  the  living  thing  over  whose 
safety  and  honor  I  would  keep  watch  as  over  thine.  Buck- 
ingham's wife,  indeed,  I  wished  thee ;  and  through  thy  own 
beauty  and  thy  wit.  I  doubted  not  to  bring  the  match  to 

*  Vain  flatterer,"  said  Zarah,  yet  seeming  soothed  even  by 


PEVBRIL  OF  THE  PEAK  539 

the  flattery  which  she  scoffed  at,  ^'  you  would  persuade  me 
that  it  was  honorable  love  which  you  expected  the  duke 
was  to  have  offered  me.  How  durst  you  urge  so  gross  a  de- 
ception, to  which  time,  place,  and  circumstance  gave  the 
lie  ?  How  dare  you  now  again  mention  it  when  you  well 
know  that  at  the  time  you  mention  the  duchess  was  still  in 
life?^' 

"  In  life,  but  on  her  death-bed,'*  said  Christian  ;  and  for 
timp,  place,  and  circumstance,  had  your  virtue,  my  Zarah, 
depended  on  these,  how  could'st  thou  have  been  the  creature 
thou  art  ?  I  knew  thee  all-sufficient  to  bid  him  defiance, 
else — for  thou  art  dearer  to  me  than  thou  thinkest — I  had 
not  risked  thee  to  win  the  Duke  of  Buckingham — ay,  and 
the  kingdom  of  England  to  boot.  So  now,  wilt  thou  be 
ruled  and  go  on  with  me  ?  " 

Zarah,  or  Fenella,  for  our  readers  must  have  been  long 
aware  of  the  identity  of  these  two  personages,  cast  down  her 
eyes,  and  was  silent  for  a  long  time.  '^Christian,''she  said 
at  last,  in  a  solemn  voice,  '*^if  my  ideas  of  right  and  of  wrong 
be  wild  and  incoherent,  I  owe  it,  first,  to  the  wild  fever  which 
my  native  sun  communicated  to  my  veins  ;  next,  to  my 
childhood,  trained  amidst  the  shifts,  tricks,  and  feats  of 
jugglers  and  mountebanks ;  and  then,  to  a  youth  of  fraud 
and  deception,  through  the  course  thou  didst  prescribe  me, 
in  which  I  might,  indeed,  hear  everything,  but  communi- 
cate with  no  one.  The  last  cause  of  my  wild  errors,  if  such 
they  are,  originates,  0  Christian,  with  you  alone,  by  whose 
intrigues  I  was  placed  with  yonder  lady,  and  who  taught  me 
that  to  revenge  my  father's  death  was  my  first  great  duty  on 
earth,  and  that  I  was  bound  by  nature  to  hate  and  injure 
her  by  whom  I  was  fed  and  fostered,  though  as  she  would 
have  fed  and  caressed  a  dog  or  any  other  mute  animal.  I 
also  think — for  I  will  deal  fairly  with  you — that  you  had  not 
so  easily  detected  your  niece  in  the  child  whose  surprising 
agility  was  making  yonder  brutal  mountebank's  fortune,  nor 
so  readily  induced  him  to  part  with  his  bond-slave,  had  you 
not,  for  your  own  purposes,  placed  me  under  his  charge, 
and  reserved  the  privilege  of  claiming  me  when  you  pleased. 
I  could  not,  under  any  other  tuition,  have  identified  myself 
with  the  personage  of  a  mute,  which  it  has  been  your  desire 
that  I  should  perform  through  life.*' 

"  You  do  me  injustice,  Zarah,'*  said  Christian.  ''  I  found 
you  capable  of  discharging,  to  an  uncommon  degree,  a  task 
necessary  to  the  avenging  of  your  father's  death  ;  I  con- 
secrated you  to  it,  as  I  consecrated  my  own  life  and  hopes  ; 


540  WAVMRLEY  NOVELS 

and  yon  held  the  duty  sacred  till  tliese  mad  feelings  towards 

a  youth  who  loves  your  cousin " 

''Who — loves — my — cousin  I "  repeated  Zarah  (for  we 
will  continue  to  call  her  by  her  real  name),  slowly  as  if  the 
words  dropped  unconsciously  from  her  lips.  ''  Well — be  it 
so  !  Man  of  many  wiles,  I  VN^ill  follow  thy  course  for  a  little, 
a  very  little,  farther ;  but  take  heed,  teaze  me  not  with  re- 
monstrances against  the  treasure  of  my  secret  thoughts — 1 
mean  my  most  hopeless  affection  to  Julian  Peveril — ^and 
bring  me  not  as  an  assistant  to  any  snare  which  you  may  de- 
sign to  cast  around  him.  You  and  your  duke  shall  rue  the 
hour  most  bitterly  in  which  you  provoke  me.  You  may 
suppose  you  have  me  in  your  power  ;  but  remember,  the 
snakes  of  my  burning  climate  are  never  so  fatal  as  when  you 
grasp  them." 

"I  care  not  for  these  Peverils,"  said  Christian — ''I  care 
not  for  their  fate  a  poor  straw,  unless  where  it  bears  on  that 
of  the  destined  woman,  whose  hands  are  red  in  your  father's 
blood.  Believe  me,  I  can  divide  her  fate  and  theirs.  I  will 
explain  to  you  how.  And  for  the  duke,  he  may  pass  among 
men  of  the  town  for  wit,  and  among  soldiers  for  valor, 
among  courtiers  for  manners  and  for  form  ;  and  why,  with 
his  high  rank  and  immense  fortune,  you  should  throw  away 
an  opportunity  which,  as  I  could  now  improve  it " 

"  Speak  not  of  it,''  said  Zarah,  "  if  thou  wouldst  have  our 
truce — remember  it  is  no  peace — if,  I  say,  thou  wouldst  have 
our  truce  grow  to  be  an  .hour  old.'' 

''  This,  then/'  said  Christian,  with  a  last  effort  to  work 
upon  the  vanity  of  this  singular  being,  *'  is  she  who  pre- 
tended such  superiority  to  human  passion,  that  she  could 
walk  indifferently  and  unmoved  through  the  halls  of  the 
prosperous  and  the  prison-cells  of  the  captive,  unknowing 
and  unknown — sympathizing  neither  with  the  pleasures  of 
the  one  nor  the  woes  of  the  other,  but  advancing  with  sure, 
though  silent,  steps  her  own  plans,  in  despite  and  regardless 
of  either !" 

''  My  own  plans  !"  said  Zarah.  ''  ^^y  plans.  Christian — 
thy  plans  of  extorting  from  the  surprised  prisoners  means 
whereby  to  convict  them — thine  own  plans,  formed  with 
those  more  powerful  than  thyself,  to  sound  men's  secrets, 
and  by  using  them  as  matter  of  accusation,  to  keep  up  the 
great  delusion  of  the  nation." 

''  Such  access  was  indeed  given  you  as  my  agent,"  sai^ 
Christian,  "and  for  advancing  a  great  national  change.  Bu' 
how  did  you  use  it  ? — to  advance  your  own  insane  passion,' 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  641 

''  Insane  !  "  said  Zarah.  '^  Had  he  been  less  than  insane 
whom  I  addressed,  he  and  I  had  ere  now  been  far  from  the 
toils  which  you  have  pitched  for  us  both.  I  had  means 
prepared  for  everything  ;  and  ere  this  the  shores  of  Britain 
had  been  lost  to  our  sight  forever. 

''The  miserable  dwarf,  too/'  said  Christian.  ''Was  it 
worthy  of  you  to  delude  that  poor  creature  with  flattering 
visions — lull  him  asleep  with  drugs  ?  Was  that  my 
doing?" 

"  He  was  my  destined  tool/"  said  Zarah,  haughtily.  "  I 
remembered  your  lessons  too  well  not  to  use  him  as  such. 
Yet  scorn  him  not  too  much.  I  tell  you,  that  yon  very 
miserable  dwarf,  whom  I  made  my  spot  in  the  prison — yon 
wretched  abortion  of  nature  I  would  select  for  a  husband 
ere  I  would  marry  your  Buckingham  ;  the  vain  and  imbecile 
pigmy  has  yet  the  warm  heart  and  noble  feelings  that  a  man 
should  hold  his  highest  honor." 

"  In  God's  name,  then,  take  your  own  way,"  said  Chris- 
tian ;  "  and,  for  my  sake,  let  never  man  hereafter  limit  a 
woman  in  the  use  of  her  tongue,  since  he  must  make  it 
amply  up  to  her  in  allowing  her  the  privilege  of  her  own 
will.  Who  would  have  thought  it  ?  But  the  colt  has 
slipped  the  bridle,  and  I  must  needs  follow,  ^nce  I  cannot 
guide  her." 

Our  narrative  returns  to  the  court  of  King  Charles  at 
Whitehall.       . 


U'V  M 


CHAPTER  XLVIII 

ButO  ! 
What  shall  I  say  to  thee,  Lord  Scroop,  thou  cruel, 
Ingrateful,  savage,  and  inhuman  creature  ? 
Thou  that  didst  bear  the  key  of  all  my  counsels, 
That  knew'st  the  very  boctom  of  my  soul, 
That  almost  mightst  have  coin'd  me  into  gold, 
Wouldst  thou  have  practised  on  me  for  thy  use  I 

Henry  V. 

At  no  period  of  his  life,  not  even  when  that  life  was  in 
imminent  danger,  did  the  constitutional  gaiety  of  Charles 
seem  more  overclouded  than  when  waiting  for  the  return  of 
Chiffinch  with  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  His  mind  re- 
volted at  the  idea  that  the  person  to  whom  he  had  been  so 
particularly  indulgent,  aud  whom  he  had  selected  as  the 
friend  of  his  lighter  hours  and  amusements,  should  prove 
capable  of  having  tampered  with  a  plot  apparently  directed 
against  his  liberty  and  life.  He  more  than  once  examined 
the  dwarf  anew,  but  could  extract  nothing  more  than  his 
first  narrative  contained.  The  apparition  of  the  female  to 
him  in  the  cell  of  Newgate,  he  described  in  such  fanciful 
and  romantic  colors,  that  the  King  could  not  help  thinking 
the  poor  man^s  head  a  little  turned  ;  and,  as  nothing  was 
found  in  the  kettledrum  and  otlier  musical  instruments 
brought  for  the  use  of  the  duke^s  band  of  foreigners,  he 
nourished  some  slight  hope  that  the  whole  plan  might  be 
either  a  mere  jest  or  that  the  idea  of  an  actual  conspiracy 
was  founded  in  mistake. 

The  persons  who  had  been  despatched  to  watch  the  mo- 
tions of  Mr.  Weiver's  congregation  brought  back  word  that 
they  had  quietly  dispersed.  It  was  known,  at  the  same  time, 
that  they  had  met  in  arms,  but  this  augured  no  particular 
design  of  aggression  at  a  time  when  all  true  Protestants  con- 
ceived themselves  in  danger  of  immediate  massacre  ;  when 
the  fathers  of  the  city  had  repeatedly  called  out  the  train- 
bands, and  alarmed  the  citizens  of  London,  under  the  idea 
of  an  instant  insurrection  of  the  Catholics ;  and  when,  to 
sum  the  whole  up  in  the  emphatic  words  of  an  alderman  of 
the  day,  there  was  a  general  belief  that  they  would  all  waken 
some  unhappy  morning  with  their  throats  cut.     Who 

542 


PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  548 

to  do  these  dire  deeds  it  was  more  difficult  to  suppose  ;  but 
all  admitted  the  possibility  that  they  might  be  achieved, 
since  one  justice  of  the  peace  was  already  murdered.  There 
was,  therefore,  no  inference  of  hostile  intentions  against  the 
state  to  be  decidedly  derived  from  a  congregation  of  Protes- 
tants jt?«r  ea;ce//e?^ce,  military  from  old  associations  bringing 
their  arms  with  them  to  a  place  of  worship,  in  the  midst 
of  a  panic  so  universal. 

Neither  did  the  violent  language  of  the  minister,  suppos- 
ing that  to  be  proved,  absolutely  infer  meditated  violence. 
The  favorite  parables  of  the  preachers,  and  the  metaphors 
and  ornaments  which  they  selected,  were  at  all  times  of  a 
military  cast ;  and  the  taking  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  by 
storm,  a  strong  and  beautiful  metaphor  when  used  gener- 
ally, as  in  Scripture,  was  detailed  in  their  sermons  in  all  the 
technical  language  of  the  attack  and  defense  of  a  fortified 
place.  The  danger,  in  short,  whatever  might  have  been  its 
actual  degree,  had  disappeared  as  suddenly  as  a  bubble  upon 
the  water,  when  broken  by  a  casual  touch,  and  had  left  as 
little  trace  behind  it.  It  became,  therefore,  matter  of  much 
doubt  whether  it  had  ever  actually  existed. 

While  various  reports  were  making  from  without,  and 
while  their  tenor  was  discussed  by  the  King,  and  such 
nobles  and  statesmen  as  he  thought  proper  to  consult  on  the 
occasion,  a  gradual  sadness  and  anxiety  mingled  with,  and 
finally  silenced,  the  mirth  of  the  evening.  All  became  sen- 
sible that  something  unusual  was  going  forward  ;  and  the 
unwonted  distance  which  Charles  maintained  from  his 
guests,  while  it  added  greatly  to  the  dulness  that  began  to 
predominate  in  the  presence-chamber,  gave  intimation  that 
something  unusual  was  laboring  in  the  King^s  mind. 

Thus  gaming  was  neglected;  the  music  was  silent,  or 
played  without  being  heard  ;  gallants  ceased  to  make  com- 
pliments, and  ladies  to  expect  them ;  and  a  sort  of  appre- 
hensive curiosity  pervaded  the  circle.  Each  asked  the 
others  why  they  were  grave ;  and  no  answer  was  returned 
any  more  than  could  have  been  rendered  by  a  herd  of  cattle 
instinctively  disturbed  by  the  approach  of  a  thunderstorm. 

To  add  to  the  general  apprehension,  it  began  to  be  whis- 
pered that  one  or  two  of  the  guests,  w^ho  were  desirous  ot 
leaving  the  palace,  had  been  informed  no  one  could  be  per- 
mitted to  retire  until  the  general  hour  of  dismissal.  And 
these,  gliding  back  into  the  hall,  communicated  in  whispers 
that  the  sentinels  at  the  gates  were  doubled,  and  that  there 
was  a  troop  of  the  Horse  Guards  drawn  up  in  the  court — 


544  WA  VEBLEY  NO VEL 8 

circumstapces  so  unusual  as  to  excite  the  most  anxioug 
curiosity. 

Such  was  the  state  of  the  court  when  wheels  were  heard 
without,  and  the  bustle  which  took  place  denoted  the  ar- 
rival of  some  person  of  consequence. 

'^  Here  comes  Chiffinch/'  said  the  King,  *'  with  his  prey 
in  his  clutch/' 

It  was  indeed  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  ;  nor  did  he  ap- 
proach the  royal  presence  without  emotion.  On  entering 
the  court,  the  flambeaux  which  were  borne  around  the  car- 
riage gleamed  on  the  scarlet  coats,  laced  hats,  and  drawn 
broadswords  of  the  Horse  Guards — a  sight  unusual,  and  cal- 
culated to  strike  terror  into  a  conscience  which  was  none  of 
the  clearest. 

The  duke  alighted  from  the  carriage,  and  only  said  to  the 
officer  whom  he  saw  upon  duty,  '^  You  are  late  under  arms 
to-night,  Captain  Carleton." 

"  Such  are  our  orders,  sir,"  answered  Carleton,  with  mil- 
itary brevity  ;  and  then  commanded  the  four  dismounted 
sentinels  at  the  under  gate  to  make  way  for  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham.  His  Grace  had  no  sooner  entered  than  he 
heard  behind  him  the  command,  ^'  Move  close  up,  sentinels 
— closer  yet  to  the  gate."  And  he  felt  as  if  all  chance  of 
rescue  were  excluded  by  the  sound. 

As  he  advanced  up  the  grand  staircase,  there  were  other 
symptoms  of  alarm  and  precaution.  The  Yeomen  of  the 
Guard  were  mustered  in  unusual  numbers,  and  carried  cara- 
bines instead  of  their  halberds  ;  and  the  gentlemen  pension- 
ers, with  their  partizans,  appeared  also  in  proportional  force. 
In  short,  all  that  sort  of  defense  which  the  royal  household 
possesses  within  itself  seemed,  for  some  hasty  and  urgent 
reason,  to  have  been  placed  under  arms  and  upon  duty. 

Buckingham  ascended  the  royal  staircase  with  an  eye  at- 
tentive to  these  preparations,  and  a  step  steady  and  slow,  as 
if  he  counted  each  step  on  which  he  trode.  "  Who,"  he 
asked  himself,  *^  shall  ensure  Christian's  fidelity  ?  Let  him 
but  stand  fast  and  we  are  secure  ;  otherwise " 

As  he  shaped  the  alternative,  he  entered  the  presence- 
chamber. 

The  King  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  apartment,  surrounded 
by  the  personages  with  whom  he  had  been  consulting.  The 
rest  of  the  brilliant  assembly,  scattered  into  groups,  looked 
on  at  some  distance.  All  were  silent  when  Buckingham 
entered,  in  hopes  of  receiving  some  explanation  of  the  mys- 
teries of  the  evening.     All  bent  forward,  though  etiquette 


PEVERtL  OF  THE  PEAK  bib 

forbade  them  to  advance,  to  catch,  if  possible,  something  of 
what  was  about  to  pass  betwixt  the  King  and  his  intriguing 
statesman.  At  the  same  time,  those  counselors  who  stood 
around  Charles  drew  back  on  either  side,  so  as  to  permit  the 
duke  to  pay  his  respects  to  his  Majesty  in  the  usual  form. 
He  went  through  the  ceremonial  with  his  accustomed  grace, 
but  was  received  by  Charles  with  much  unwonted  gravity. 

'*  We  have  waited  for  you  for  some  time,  my  lord  duke. 
It  is  long  since  Chiffinch  left  us,  to  request  your  attendance 
here.  I  see  you  are  elaborately  dressed.  Your  toilet  was 
needless  on  the  present  occasion.^' 

''  Needless  to  the  splendor  of  your  Majesty^s  court,''  said 
the  duke,  "  but  not  needless  on  my  part.  This  chanced  to 
be  Black  Monday  at  York  Place,  and  my  club  of  PendaUes 
were  in  full  glee  when  your  Majesty's  summons  arrived.  I 
could  not  be  in  the  company  of  Ogle,  Maniduc,  Dawson,  and 
so  forth,  but  what  I  must  needs  make  some  preparation,  and 
some  ablution,  ere  entering  the  circle  here." 

"  I  trust  the  purification  will  be  complete,"  said  the  King, 
without  any  tendency  to  the  smile  which  always  softened 
features  that,  ungilded  by  its  influence,  were  dark,  harsh, 
and  even  severe.  '^  We  wished  to  ask  your  Grace  concern- 
ing the  import  of  a  sort  of  musical  mask  which  you  designed  us 
here,  but  which  miscarried,  as  we  are  given  to  understand." 

^'  It  must  have  been  a  great  miscarriage  indeed,"  said  the 
duke,  "  Since  your  Majesty  looks  so  serious  on  it.  I  thought 
to  have  done  your  Majesty  a  pleasure,  as  I  have  seen  you  con- 
descend to  be  pleased  with  such  passages,  by  sending  the 
contents  of  that  bass-viol ;  but  I  fear  the  jest  has  been  un- 
acceptable— I  fear  the  fireworks  may  have  done  mischief." 

'^  Not  the  mischief  they  were  designed  for,  perhaps,"  said 
the  King,  gravely  ;  "you  see,  my  lord,  we  are  all  alive  and 
unsinged." 

'^  Long  may  your  Majesty  remain  so,"  said  the  duke  ;  ''  yet 
I  see  that  there  is  something  misconstrued  on  my  part ;  it 
must  be  a  matter  unpardonable,  however  little  intended, 
since  it  hath  displeased  so  indulgent  a  master." 

"  Too  indulgent  a  master,  indeed,  Buckingham,"  replied 
the  King  ;  "  and  the  fruit  of  my  indulgence  has  been  to 
change  loyal  men  into  traitors." 

"  May  it  please  your  Majesty,  I  cannot  nnderstand  this," 
said  the  duke. 

"  Follow  us,  my  lord,"  answered  Charles,  "  and  we  will 
endeavor  to  explain  our  meaning." 

Attended  by  the  same  lords  who  stood  around  him,  and 

Off  » 


646  WAVEULEY  NOVELS 

followed  by  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  on  whom  all  eyes  were 
fixed,  Charles  retired  into  the  same  cabinet  which  had  been 
the  scene  of  repeated  consultations  in  the  course  of  the  even- 
ing. There,  leaning  with  his  arms  crossed  on  the  back  of 
an  easy-chair,  Charles  proceeded  to  interrogate  the  suspected 
nobleman. 

''  Let  us  be  plain  with  each  other.  Speak  out,  Bucking- 
ham. What,  in  one  word,  was  to  have  been  the  regale  in- 
tended for  us  this  evening  ?  " 

"  A  petty  mask,  my  liege.  I  had  destined  a  little  dancing- 
girl  to  come  out  of  that  instrument,  who,  I  thought,  would 
have  performed  to  your  Majesty's  liking  ;  a  few  Chinese  fire- 
works there  were,  which,  thinking  the  entertainment  was 
to  have  taken  place  in  the  marble  hall,  might,  I  hoped, 
have  been  discharged  with  good  effect,  and  without  the 
slightest  alarm,  at  the  first  appearance  of  my  little  sorceress, 
and  were  designed  to  have  masked,  as  it  were,  her  entrance 
upon  the  stage,  I  hope  there  have  been  no  perukes  singed, 
no  ladies  frightened,  no  hopes  of  noble  descent  interrupted 
by  my  ill-fancied  jest  ?  " 

'*  We  have  seen  no  such  fireworks,  my  lord  ;  and  your  female 
dancer,  of  whom  we  now  hear  for  the  first  time,  came  forth 
in  the  form  of  our  old  acquaintance  Geoffrey  Hudson,  whose 
dancing  days  are  surely  ended." 

''Your  Majesty  surprises  me  !  I  beseech  you,  let  Chris- 
tian be  sent  for — Edward  Christian  ;  he  will  be  found  lodg- 
ing in  a  large  old  house  near  Sharper  the  cutler's,  in  the 
Strand.  As  I  live  by  bread,  sir,  I  trusted  him  with  the  ar- 
rangement of  this  matter,  as  indeed  the  dancing-girl  was  his 
property.  If  he  has  done  aught  to  dishonor  my  concert  or 
disparage  my  character,  he  shall  die  under  the  baton.'' 

''  It  is  singular,"  said  the  King,  '*  and  I  have  often  ob- 
served it,  that  this  fellow  Christian  bears  the  blame  of  all 
men's  enormities  :  he  performs  the  part  which  in  a  great 
family  is  usually  assigned  to  that  mischief-doing  personage, 
Nobody.  When  Chiffinch  blunders,  he  always  quotes  Chris- 
tian. When  Sheffield  writes  a  lampoon,  I  am  sure  to  hear 
of  Christian  having  corrected,  or  copied,  or  dispersed  it  :  he 
is  the  dme  darnnee  of  every  one  about  my  court — the  scape- 
goat, who  is  to  carry  away  all  their  iniquities  ;  and  he  will 
have  a  cruel  load  to  bear  into  the  wilderness.  But  for  Buck- 
ingham's sins,  in  particular,  he  is  the  regular  and  uniform 
sponsor  ;  and  I  am  convinced  his  Grace  expects  Christian 
should  suffer  every  penalty  which  he  has  incurred  in  this 
world  or  the  next. 


FEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  547 

*'  Not  so/'  with  the  deepest  reverence  replied  the  duke. 
'*  I  have  no  hope  of  being  either  hanged  or  damned  by  proxy  ; 
but  it  is  clear  some  one  hath  tampered  with  and  altered  my 
device.  If  I  am  accused  of  aught,  let  me  at  least  hear  the 
charge  and  see  my  accuser." 

"That  is  but  fair,"  said  the  King.  "Bring  our  little 
friend  from  behind  the  chimney-board."  Hudson  being  ac- 
cordingly produced,  he  continued,  "  There  stands  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham.  Repeat  before  him  the  tale  you  told  us. 
Let  him  hear  what  were  those  contents  of  the  bass-viol  which 
were  removed  that  you  might  enter  it.  Be  not  afraid  of  any 
one,  but  speak  the  truth  boldly." 

"  May  it  please  your  Majesty,"  said  Hudson,  "fear  is  a 
thing  unknown  to  me." 

"  His  body  has  no  room  to  hold  such  a  passion  ;  or  there 
is  too  little  of  it  to  be  worth  fearing  for,"  said  Buckingham. 
"  But  let  him  speak." 

Ere  Hudson  had  completed  his  tale,  Buckingham  inter- 
rupted him  by  exclaiming,  "  Is  it  possible  that  1  can  be  sus- 
pected by  your  Majesty  on  the  word  of  this  pitiful  variety  of 
the  baboon  tribe  ?  " 

"  Villain  lord,  I  appeal  thee  to  the  combat  ! "  said  the 
little  man,  highly  offended  at  the  appellation  thus  bestov/ed 
on  him. 

"  La  you  there  now  ! "  said  the  duke.  "  The  little  animal 
is  quite  crazed,  and  defies  a  man  who  need  ask  no  other  wea- 
pon than  a  corking-pin  to  run  him  through  the  lungs,  and 
whose  single  kick  could  hoist  him  from  Dover  to  Calais  with- 
out yacht  or  wherry.  And  what  can  you  expect  from  an  idiot, 
who  is  engoue  of  a  common  rope-dancing  girl,  that  capered 
on  a  pack-thread  at  Ghent  in  Flanders,  unless  they  were  to 
club  their  talents  to  set  up  a  booth  at  Bartholomew  Fair  ? 
Is  it  not  plain  that,  supposing  the  little  animal  is  not  mali- 
cious, as  indeed  his  whole  kind  bear  a  general  and  most  can- 
kered malice  against  those  who  have  the  ordinary  proportions 
of  humanity — grant,  I  say,  that  this  were  not  a  malicious 
falsehood  of  his,  why,  what  does  it  amount  to  ?  That  he  has 
mistaken  squibs  and  Chinese  crackers  for  arms.  He  says  not 
he  himself  touched  or  handled  them  ;  and  judging  by  the 
sight  alone,  I  question  if  the  infirm  old  creature,  when  any 
whim  or  preconception  hath  possession  of  his  noddle,  can  dis- 
tinguish betwixt  a  blunderbuss  and  a  black  pudding," 

The  horrible  clamor  which  the  dwarf  made  so  soon  as  he 
heard  this  disparagement  of  his  military  skill,  the  haste  with 
which  he  blundered  out  a  detail  of  his  warlike  experiences. 


648  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

and  the  absurd  grimaces  which  he  made  in  order  to  enforce  his 
story,  provoked  not  only  the  risibility  of  Charles,  but  even 
of  the  statesmen  around  him,  and  added  absurdity  to  the 
motley  complexion  of  the  scene. 

The  King  terminated  this  dispute  by  commanding  the 
dwarf  to  withdraw. 

A  more  regular  discussion  of  his  evidence  was  then  re- 
sumed, and  Ormond  was  the  first  who  pointed  out  that  it 
went  farther  than  had  been  noticed,  since  the  little  man  had 
mentioned  a  certain  extraordinary  and  treasonable  conversa- 
tion held  by  the  duke's  dependants,  by  whom  he  had  been 
conveyed  to  the  palace. 

''I  am  sure  not  to  lack  my  Lord  of  Ormond's  good  word," 
said  the  duke  scornfully  ;  "  but  I  defy  him  alike  and  all  my 
other  enemies,  and  shall  find  it  easy  to  show  that  this  alleged 
conspiracy,  if  any  grounds  for  it  at  all  exist,  is  a  mere  sham 
plot,  got  up  to  turn  the  odium  justly  attached  to  the  Papists 
upon  the  Protestants.  Here  is  a  half -hanged  creature,  who, 
on  the  very  day  he  escapes  from  the  gallows,  which  many  be- 
lieve was  his  most  deserved  destiny,  comes  to  take  away  the 
reputation  of  a  Protestant  peer.  And  on  what  ?  On  the 
treasonable  conversation  of  three  or  four  German  fiddlers, 
heard  through  the  sound-holes  of  a  violoncello,  and  tliat,  too, 
when  the  creature  was  incased  in  it,  and  mounted  on  a  man's 
shoulders  !  The  urchin,  too,  in  repeating  their  language, 
shows  he  understands  German  as  little  as  my  horse  does  ; 
and  if  he  did  rightly  hear,  truly  comprehend,  and  accurately 
report  what  they  said,  still,  is  my  honor  to  be  touched  by 
the  language  held  by  such  persons  as  these  are,  with  whom 
I  have  never  communicated,  otherwise  than  men  of  my  rank 
do  with  those  of  their  calling  and  capacity  ?  Pardon  me, 
sire,  if  I  presume  to  say  that  the  profound  statesmen  who 
endeavored  to  stifle  the  Popish  conspiracy  by  the  pretended 
Meal-tub  Plot  will  take  little  more  credit  by  their  figments 
about  fiddles  and  concertos." 

The  assistant  counselors  looked  at  each  other  ;  and  Charles 
turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  through  the  room  with  long 
steps. 

At  this  period  the  Peverils,  father  and  son,  were  announced 
to  have  reached  the  palace,  and  were  ordered  into  the  royal 
presence. 

These  gentlemen  had  received  the  royal  mandate  at  a 
moment  of  great  interest.  After  being  dismissed  from  their 
confinement  by  the  elder  Bridgenorth,  in  the  manner  and 
upon  the  terms  which  the  reader  must  have  gathered  from  the 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  549 

conversation  of  the  latter  with  Christian,  they  reached  the 
lodgings  of  Lady  Peveril,  who  awaited  them  with  joy,  mingled 
with  terror  and  uncertainty.  The  news  of  the  acquittal  had 
reached  her  by  the  exertions  of  the  faithful  Lance  Outram, 
but  her  mind  had  been  since  harassed  by  the  long  delay  of 
their  appearance,  and  rumors  of  disturbances  which  had 
taken  place  in  Fleet  Street  and  in  the  Strand. 

When  the  first  rapturous  meeting  was  over.  Lady  Peveril, 
with  an  anxious  look  towards  her  son,  as  if  recommending 
caution,  said  she  was  now  about  to  present  to  him  the  daugh- 
ter of  an  old  friend,  whom  he  had  never  (there  was  an  em- 
phasis on  the  word)  seen  before.  ''  This  young  lady,"  she 
continued,  "  was  the  only  child  of  Colonel  Mitford,  in  North 
Wales,  who  had  sent  her  to  remain  under  her  guardianship 
for  an  interval,  finding  himself  unequal  to  attempt  the  task 
of  her  education." 

"  Ay — ay,"  said  Sir  Geoffrey,  '^  Dick  Mitford  must  be  old 
now — beyond  the  threescore  and  ten,  I  think.  He  was  no 
chicken,  though  a  cock  of  the  game,  when  he  joined  the 
Marquis  of  Hertford  at  Namptwich  with  two  hundred  wild 
Welshmen.  Before  George,  Julian,  I  love  that  girl  as  if  she 
were  my  own  flesh  and  blood  I  Lady  Peveril  would  never 
have  got  through  this  work  without  her.  And  Dick  Mitford 
sent  me  a  thousand  pieces,  too,  in  excellent  time,  when  there 
was  scarce  a  cross  to  keep  the  devil  from  dancing  in  our 
pockets,  much  more  for  these  law-doings.  I  used  it  without 
scruple,  for  there  is  wood  xeady  to  be  cut  at  Martindale  when 
we  get  down  there,  and  Dick  Mitford  knows  I  would  have 
done  the  like  for  him.  Strange  that  he  should  have  been 
the  only  one  of  my  friends  to  reflect  I  might  want  a  few 
pieces." 

Whilst  Sir  Geoffrey  thus  run  on,  the  meeting  betwixt  Alice 
and  Julian  Peveril  was  accomplished,  without  any  particular 
notice  on  his  side,  except  to  say,  "  Kiss  her,  Julian — kiss 
her.  What  the  devil !  is  that  the  way  you  learned  to  accost 
a  lady  at  the  Isle  of  Man,  as  if  her  lips  were  a  red-hot  horse- 
shoe ?  And  do  not  you  be  offended,  my  pretty  one  ;  Julian 
is  naturally  bashful,  and  has  been  bred  by  an  old  lady,  but 
you  will  find  him,  by  and  by,  as  gallant  as  thou  hast  found 
me,  my  princess.  And  now.  Dame  Peveril,  to  dinner — to 
dinner  !  The  old  fox  must  have  his  belly  timber,  though  the 
hounds  have  been  after  him  the  whole  day." 

Lance,  whose  joyous  congratulations  were  next  to  be  under- 
gone, had  the  consideration  to  cut  them  short,  in  order  to 
provide  a  plain  but  hearty  meal  from  the  next  cook's  shop.. 


550  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

at  which  Julian  sat  like  one  enchanted  betwixt  his  mistress 
and  his  mother.  He  easily  conceived  that  the  last  was  the 
confidential  friend  to  whom  Bridgenorth  had  finally  commit- 
ted the  charge  of  his  daughter,  and  his  only  anxiety  now  was 
to  anticipate  the  confusion  that  was  likely  to  arise  when  her 
real  parentage  was  made  known  to  his  father.  Wisely,  how- 
ever, he  suffered  not  these  anticipations  to  interfere  with  the 
delight  of  his  present  situation,  in  the  course  of  which  many 
slight  but  delightful  tokens  of  recognition  were  exchanged, 
without  censure,  under  the  eye  of  Lady  Peveril,  under  cover 
of  the  boisterous  mirth  of  the  old  baronet,  who  spoke  for 
two,  ate  for  four,  and  drank  wine  for  half  a  dozen.  His 
progress  in  the  latter  exercise  might  have  proceeded  rather 
too  far,  had  he  not  been  interrupted  by  a  gentleman  bearing 
the  King's  orders  that  he  should  instantly  attend  upon  the 
presence  at  Whitehall,  and  bring  his  son  along  with  him. 

Lady  Peveril  was  alarmed,  and  Alice  grew  pale  with  sym- 
pathetic anxiety ;  but  the  old  knight,  who  never  saw  more 
than  what  lay  straight  before  him,  set  it  down  to  the  King's 
hasty  anxiety  to  congratulate  him  on  his  escape — an  interest 
on  his  Majesty's  part  which  he  considered  by  no  means  ex- 
travagant, conscious  that  it  was  reciprocal  on  his  own  side.  It 
came  upon  him,  indeed,  with  the  more  joyful  surprise,  that 
he  had  received  a  previous  hint,  ere  he  left  the  court  of 
justice,  that  it  would  be  prudent  in  him  to  go  down  to  Mar- 
tindale  before  presenting  himself  at  court — a  restriction 
which  he  supposed  as  repugant  to  his  Majesty's  feelings  as 
it  was  to  his  own. 

While  he  consulted  with  Lance  Outram  about  cleaning  his 
buff-belt  and  sword-hilt,  as  well  as  time  admitted.  Lady 
Peveril  had  the  means  to  give  Julian  more  distinct  informa- 
tion that  Alice  was  under  her  protection  by  her  father's  au- 
thority, and  with  his  consent  to  their  union,  if  it  could  be 
accomplished.  She  added,  that  it  was  her  determination 
to  employ  the  mediation  of  the  Countess  of  Derby  to  over- 
come the  obstacles  which  might  be  foreseen  on  the  part  of 
Sir  Geoffrey. 


CHAPTER  XLIX 

In  the  King's  name. 

l€t  fall  your  swords  and  daggers ! 

CHtic, 

When  the  father  and  son  entered  the  cabinet  of  audience,  it 
was  easily  visible  that  Sir  G-eoffrey  had  obeyed  the  summons 
as  he  would  have  done  the  trumpet's  call  to  horse  ;  and  his 
disheveled  gray  locks  and  half -arranged  dress,  though  they 
showed  zeal  and  haste,  such  as  he  would  have  used  when 
Charles  I.  called  him  to  attend  a  council  of  war,  seemed 
rather  indecorous  in  a  pacific  drawing-room.  He  paused  at 
the  door  of  the  cabinet,  but  when  the  King  called  on  him  to 
advance,  came  hastily  forward,  with  every  feeling  of  his 
earlier  and  later  life  afloat  and  contending  in  his  memory, 
threw  himself  on  his  knees  before  the  King,  seized  his  hand, 
and,  without  even  an  effort  to  speak,  wept  aloud.  Charles, 
who  generally  felt  deeply  so  long  as  an  impressive  object 
was  before  his  eyes,  indulged  for  a  moment  the  old  man's 
rapture.  '^  My  good  Sir  Geoffrey,''  he  said,  "  you  have  had 
some  hard  measure  ;  we  owe  you  amends,  and  will  find  time 
to  pay  our  debt." 

*^No  suffering — no  debt,"  said  the  old  man.  "I  cared 
not  what  the  rogues  said  of  me ;  I  knew  they  could  never 
get  twelve  honest  fellows  to  believe  a  word  of  their  most 
damnable  lies.  I  did  long  to  beat  them  when  they  called 
me  traitor  to  your  Majesty,  that  I  confess.  But  to  have 
such  an  early  opportunity  of  paying  my  duty  to  your  Maj- 
esty overpays  it  all.  The  villains  would  have  persuaded  me 
I  ought  not  to  come  to  court — aha  ! " 

The  Duke  of  Ormond  perceived  that  the  King  colored 
much  ;  for  in  truth  it  was  from  the  court  that  the  private 
intimation  had  been  given  to  Sir  Geoffrey  to  go  down  to  the 
country  without  appearing  at  Whitehall ;  and  he,  moreover, 
suspected  that  the  jolly  old  knight  had  not  risen  from  his 
dinner  altogether  dry-lipped,  after  the  fatigues  of  a  day  so 
agitating.  '*My  old  friend,"  he  whispered,  ''you  forget 
that  your  son  is  to  be  presented ;  permit  me  to  have  that 
honor," 

651 


552  WAVEULEY  NOVELS 

"  I  crave  your  Grace's  pardon  humbly/'  said  Sir  Geoffrey, 
**  but  it  is  an  honor  I  design  for  myself,  as  1  apprehend  no 
one  can  so  utterly  surrender  and  deliver  him  up  to  his  Maj- 
esty's service  as  the  father  that  begot  him  is  entitled  to  do, 
Julian,  come  forward  and  kneel.  Here  he  is,  please  your 
Majesty — Julian  Peveril — a  chip  of  the  old  block — as  stout, 
though  scarce  so  tall,  a  tree  as  the  old  trunk  when  at  the 
freshest.  Take  him  to  you,  sir,  for  a  faithful  servant,  a 
vendre  et  a  pendre,  as  the  French  say ;  if  he  fears  fire  or 
steel,  ax  or  gallows,  in  your  Majesty's  service,  I  renounce 
him — he  is  no  son  of  mine — I  disown  him,  and  he  may  go  to 
the  Isle  of  Man,  the  Isle  of  Dogs,  or  the  Isle  of  Devils,  for 
what  I  care." 

Charles  winked  to  Ormond,  and  having,  with  his  wonted 
courtesy,  expressed  his  thorough  conviction  that  Julian 
would  imitate  the  loyalty  of  his  ancestors,  and  especially  of 
his  father,  added,  that  he  believed  his  Grace  of  Ormond  had 
something  to  communicate  which  was  of  consequence  to  his 
service.  Sir  Geoffrey  made  his  military  reverence  at  this 
hint,  and  marched  off  in  the  rear  of  the  duke,  who  pro- 
ceeded to  inquire  of  him  concerning  the  events  of  the  day. 
Charles,  in  the  meanwhile,  having,  in  the  first  place,  ascer- 
tained that  his  son  was  not  in  the  same  genial  condition 
with  the  father,  demanded  and  received  from  him  a  precise 
account  of  all  the  proceedings  subsequent  to  the  trial. 

Julian,  with  the  plainness  and  precision  which  such  a 
snbject  demanded,  when  treated  in  such  a  presence,  narrated 
all  that  had  happened,  down  to  the  entrance  of  Bridgenorth  ; 
and  his  Majesty  was  so  much  pleased  with  his  manner,  that 
he  congratulated  Arlington  on  their  having  gained  the  evi- 
dence of  at  least  one  man  of  sense  to  these  dark  and  mys- 
terious events.  But  when  Bridgenorth  was  brought  upon 
the  scene,  Julian  hesitated  to  bestow  a  name  upon  him  ; 
and  although  he  mentioned  the  chapel  which  he  had  seen 
filled  with  men  in  arms,  and  the  violent  language  of  the 
preacher,  he  added,  with  earnestness,  that  notwithstanding 
all  this,  the  men  departed  without  coming  to  any  extremity, 
and  had  left  the  place  before  his  father  and  he  were  set  at 
liberty. 

'^And  you  retired  quietly  to  your  dinner  in  Fleet  Street, 
young  man,"  said  the  King,  severely,  ^•'without  giving  a 
magistrate  notice  of  the  dangerous  meeting  which  was  held 
in  the  vicinity  of  our  palace,  and  who  did  not  conceal  their 
intention  of  proceeding  to  extremities  ?  " 

Peveril  blushed,  and  was  silent.     The  King  frowned,  and 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  553 

stepped  aside  to  communicate  with  Ormond,  who  reported 
that  the  father  seemed  to  have  known  nothing  of  the  mat- 
ter. 

"  And  the  son,  I  am  sorry  to  say/'  said  the  King,  *'  seems 
more  unwilling  to  speak  the  truth  than  I  should  have  ex- 
pected. We  have  all  variety  of  evidence  in  this  singular 
investigation — a  mad  witness  like  the  dwarf,  a  drunken  wit- 
ness like  the  father,  and  now  a  dumb  witness.  Young  man,'' 
he  continued,  addressing  Julian,  '^  your  behavior  is  less 
frank  than  I  expected  from  your  father's  son.  I  must  know 
who  this  person  is  with  whom  you  held  such  familiar  inter- 
course ;  you  know  him,  I  presume  ?" 

Julian  acknowledged  that  he  did,  but,  kneeling  on  one 
knee,  entreated  his  Majesty's  forgiveness  for  concealing  his 
name.  '^  He  had  been  freed,"  he  said,  '^  from  his  confine- 
ment on  promising  to  that  effect." 

'^  That  was  a  promise  made,  by  your  own  account,  under 
compulsion,"  answered  the  King,  "and  I  cannot  authorize 
your  keeping  it ;  it  is  your  duty  to  speak  the  truth.  If  you 
are  afraid  of  Buckingham,  the  duke  shall  withdraw." 

*^  I  have  no  reason  to  fear  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,"  said 
Peveril  ;  "that  I  had  an  affair  with  one  of  his  household 
was  the  man's  own  fault,  and  not  mine." 

"Odds-fish  !  "  said  the  King,  "the  light  begins  to  break 
in  on  me  ;  I  thought  I  remembered  thy  physiognomy. 
Wert  thou  not  the  very  fellow  whom  I  met  at  Ohiffinch's 
yonder  morning  ?  The  matter  escaped  me  since  ;  but  now 
I  recollect  thou  saidst  then  that  thou  wert  the  son  of  that 
jolly  old  three-bottle  baronet  yonder." 

"It  is  true,"  said  Julian,  "  that  I  met  your  Majesty  at 
Master  Ohiffinch's,  and  I  am  afraid  had  the  misfortune  to 
displease  you  ;  but " 

"  No  more  of  that,  young  man — no  more  of  that.  But  I 
recollect  you  had  with  you  that  beautiful  dancing  siren. 
Buckingham,  I  will  hold  you  gold  to  silver  that  she  was  the 
intended  tenant  of  that  bass-fiddle  ?" 

"  Your  Majesty  has  rightly  guessed  it,"  said  the  duke ; 
"  and  I  suspect  she  has  put  a  trick  upon  me  by  substituting 
the  dwarf  in  her  place  ;  for  Ohristian  thinks " 

"Damn  Ohristian  !"  said  the  King,  hastily.  "I  wish 
they  would  bring  him  hither,  that  universal  referee."  And 
as  the  wish  was  uttered,  Ohristian's  arrival  was  announced. 
"  Let  him  attend,"  said  the  King.  "  But  hark — a  thought 
strikes  me.  Here,  Master  Peveril — yonder  dancing  maiden, 
that  introduced  you  to  us  by  the  singular  agility  of  her  per- 


654  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

formance,  is  she  not,  by  your  account,  a  dependant  on  the 
Countess  of  Derby  ? '' 

**1  have  known  her  such  for  years,*'  answered  Julian. 

**  Then  will  we  call  the  countess  hither,"  said  the  King. 
**  It  is  fit  we  should  learn  who  this  little  fairy  really  is  ;  and 
if  she  be  now  so  absolutely  at  the  beck  of  Buckingham  and 
this  master  Christian  of  his — why,  I  think  it  would  be  but 
charity  to  let  her  ladyship  know  so  much,  since  I  question 
if  she  will  wish,  in  that  case,  to  retain  her  in  her  service. 
Besides,"  he  continued,  speaking  apart,  ''  this  Julian,  to 
whom  suspicion  attaches  in  these  matters  from  his  obstinate 
silence,  is  also  of  the  countess's  household.  We  will  sift 
this  matter  to  the  bottom,  and  do  justice  to  all." 

The  Countess  of  Derby,  hastily  summoned,  entered  the 
royal  closet  at  one  door,  just  as  Christian  and  Zarah,  or 
Fenella,  were  ushered  in  by  the  other.  The  old  knight  of 
Martindale,  who  had  ere  this  returned  to  the  presence,  was 
scarce  controlled,  even  by  the  signs  which  she  made,  so 
much  was  he  desirous  of  greeting  his  old  friend  ;  but  as  Or- 
mond  laid  a  kind  restraining  hand  upon  his  arm,  he  was 
prevailed  on  to  sit  still. 

The  countess,  after  a  deep  reverence  to  the  King,  acknowl- 
edged the  rest  of  the  nobility  present  by  a  slighter  rever- 
ence, smiled  to  Julian  Peveril,  and  looked  with  surprise  at 
the  unexpected  apparition  of  Fenella.  Buckingham  bit  his 
lip,  for  he  saw  the  introduction  of  Lady  Derby  was  likely  to 
confuse  and  embroil  every  preparation  which  he  had  ar- 
ranged for  his  defense  ;  and  he  stole  a  glance  at  Christian, 
whose  eye,  when  fixed  on  the  countess,  assumed  the  deadly 
sharpness  which  sparkles  in  the  adder's,  while  his  cheek 
grew  almost  black  under  the  infiuence  of  strong  emotion. 

^'  Is  there  any  one  in  this  presence  whom  your  ladyship 
recognizes,"  said  the  King  graciously,  besides  your  old 
friends  of  Ormond  and  Arlington  ?  " 

''I  see,  my  liege,  two  worthy  friends  of  my  husband's 
house,"  replied  the  countess — ^'  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  and  his 
son,  the  latter  a  distinguished  member  of  my  son's  house- 
hold." 

'*  Any  one  else  ?  "  continued  the  King. 

"  An  unfortunate  female  of  my  family,  who  disappeared 
from  the  Island  of  Man  at  the  same  time  when  Julian  Pev- 
eril left  it  upon  business  of  importance.  She  was  thought 
to  have  fallen  from  the  cliff  into  the  sea." 

'^  Had  your  ladyship  any  reason  to  suspect — pardon  me," 
said  the  K^ing,  ''  for  putting  such  a  question — any  improper 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  655 

intimacy  between  Master  Peveril  and  this  same  female  at- 
tendant ? '' 

"  My  liege/^  said  the  countess,  coloring  indignantly,  "  my 
household  is  of  reputation." 

''  Nay,  my  lady,  be  not  angry,"  said  the  King  ;  ''  I  did 
but  ask  :  such  things  will  befall  in  the  best  regulated  fami- 
lies." 

'^  Not  in  mine,  sire,"  said  the  countess.  "  Besides  that, 
in  common  pride  and  in  common  honesty,  Julian  Peveril 
is  incapable  of  intriguing  with  an  unhappy  creature, 
removed  by  her  misfortune  almost  beyond  the  limits  of 
humanity." 

Zarah  looked  at  her,  and  compressed  her  lips,  as  if  to  keep 
in  the  words  that  would  fain  break  from  them. 

*'  I  know  not  how  it  is,"  said  the  King.  '^  What  your 
ladyship  says  may  be  true  in  the  main,  yet  men^s  tastes 
have  strange  vagaries.  This  girl  is  lost  in  Man  so  soon 
as  the  youth  leaves  it,  and  is  found  in  St.  Jameses  Park, 
bouncing  and  dancing  like  a  fairy,  so  soon  as  he  appears  in 
London." 

*'  Impossible  !  "  said  the  countess  ;  ''  she  cannot  dance." 

''  I  believe,"  said  the  King,  "  she  can  do  more  feats  than 
your  ladyship  either  suspects  or  would  approve  of." 

The  countess  drew  up  and  was  indignantly  silent. 

The  King  proceeded — "  No  sooner  is  Peveril  in  Newgate 
than,  by  the  account  of  the  venerable  little  gentleman,  this 
merry  maiden  is  even  there  also  for  company.  Now,  with- 
out inquiring  how  she  got  in,  I  think  charitably  that  she 
had  better  taste  than  to  come  there  on  the  dwarf's  account. 
Ah  ha  !  I  think  Master  Julian  is  touched  in  conscience  ! " 

Julian  did  indeed  start  as  the  King  spoke,  for  it  reminded 
him  of  the  midnight  visit  in  his  cell. 

The  King  looked  fixedly  at  him,  and  then  proceeded — 
*'  Well,  gentlemen,  Peveril  is  carried  to  his  trial,  and  is  no 
sooner  at  liberty  than  we  find  him  in  the  house  where  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham  was  arranging  what  he  calls  a  musical 
mask.  Egad,  I  hold  it  next  to  certain  that  this  wench  put 
the  change  on  his  Grrace,  and  popt  the  poor  dwarf  into  the 
bass-viol,  reserving  her  own  more  precious  hours  to  be  spent 
with  Master  Julian  Peveril.  Think  you  not  so,  Sir  Christian 
— you,  the  universal  referee  ?  Is  there  any  truth  in  this 
conjecture  ?  " 

Christian  stole  a  glance  on  Zarah,  and  read  that  in  her 
eye  which  embarrassed  him.  "  He  did  not  know,"  he  said. 
''  He  had  indeed  engaged  this  unrivaled  performer  to  take 


556  WAVEHLEY  NOVELS 

the  proposed  part  in  the  mask  ;  and  she  was  to  have  come 
forth  in  the  midst  of  a  shower  of  lambent  fire,  very  artifi- 
cially prepared  with  perfumes,  to  overcome  the  smell  of  the 
powder  ;  but  he  knew  not  why — excepting  that  she  was 
wilful  and  capricious,  like  all  great  geniuses — she  had  cer- 
tainly spoiled  the  concert  by  cramming  in  that  more  bulky 
dwarf/' 

"  I  should  like,"  said  the  King,  ''  to  see  this  little  maiden 
stand  forth  and  bear  witness,  in  such  manner  as  she  can  ex- 
press herself,  on  this  mysterious  matter.  Can  any  one  here 
understand  her  mode  of  communication  ?" 

Christian  said  he  knew  something  of  it  since  he  had  be- 
come acquainted  with  her  in  London.  The  countess  spoke 
not  till  the  King  asked  her,  and  then  owned  dryly,  that 
"  She  had  necessarily  some  habitual  means  of  intercourse 
with  one  who  had  been  immediately  about  her  person  for 
so  many  years." 

'*!  should  think,"  said  Charles,  "  that  this  same  Master 
Julian  Peveril  has  the  more  direct  key  to  her  language,  after 
all  we  have  heard." 

The  King  looked  first  at  Peveril,  who  blushed  like  a 
maiden  at  the  inference  which  the  King's  remark  implied, 
and  then  suddenly  turned  his  eyes  on  the  supposed  mute,  on 
whose  cheek  a  faint  color  was  dying  away.  A  moment  after- 
wards, at  a  signal  from  the  countess,  Fenella,  or  Zarah, 
stepped  forward,  and  having  kneeled  down  and  kissed  her 
lady's  hand,  stood  with  her  arms  folded  on  her  breast,  with 
an  humble  air,  as  different  from  that  which  she  wore  in  the 
harem  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  as  that  of  a  Magdalen 
from  a  Judith.  Yet  this  was  the  least  show  of  her  talent  of 
versatility,  for  so  well  did  she  play  the  part  of  the  dumb 
girl,  that  Buckingham,  sharp  as  his  discernment  was,  re- 
mained undecided  whether  the  creature  which  stood  before 
him  could  possibly  be  the  same  with  her  who  had,  in  a  dif- 
ferent dress,  made  such  an  impression  on  his  imagination, 
or  indeed  was  the  imperfect  creature  she  now  represented. 
She  had  at  once  all  that  could  mark  the  imperfection  of 
hearing,  and  all  that  could  show  the  wonderful  address  by 
which  nature  so  often  makes  up  for  the  deficiency.  There 
was  the  lip  that  trembled  not  at  any  sound  ;  the  seeming  in- 
sensibility to  the  corxversation  which  passed  around;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  the  quick  and  vivid  glance,  that 
seemed  anxious  to  devour  the  meaning  of  those  sounds  which 
she  could  gather  no  otherwise  than  by  the  motion  of  the  lips. 

Examined  after  her  own  lashion,  Zarah  confirmed  the  tale 


PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  557 

of  Christian  in  all  its  points,  and  admitted  that  she  had  de- 
ranged the  project  laid  for  a  mask,  by  placing  the  dwarf  in 
her  own  stead ;  the  cause  of  her  doing  so  she  declined  to 
assign,  and  the  countess  pressed  her  no  farther. 

"  Everything  tells  to  exculpate  my  Lord  of  Buckingham,^^ 
said  Charles,  *'from  so  absurd  an  accusation  :  the  dwarf's 
testimony  is  too  fantastic  ;  that  of  the  two  Peverils  does  not 
in  the  least  affect  the  duke  ;  that  of  the  dumb  damsel  com- 
pletely contradicts  the  possibility  of  his  guilt.  Methinks, 
my  lords,  we  should  acquaint  him  that  he  stands  acquitted 
of  a  complaint  too  ridiculous  to  have  ever  been  subjected  to 
a  more  serious  scrutiny  than  we  have  hastily  made  upon  this 
occasion. '' 

Arlington  bowed  in  acquiescence  ;  but  Ormond  spoke 
plainly.  *'  I  should  suffer,  sire,  in  the  opinion  of  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  brilliant  as  his  talents  are  known  to  be, 
should  I  say  that  I  am  satisfied  in  my  own  mind  on  this  oc- 
casion. But  I  subscribe  to  the  spirit  of  the  times  ;  and  I 
agree  it  would  be  highly  dangerous,  on  such  accusations  as  we 
have  been  able  to  collect,  to  impeach  the  character  of  a  zealous 
Protestant  like  his  Grace.  Had  he  been  a  Catholic,  under 
such  circumstances  of  suspicion,  the  Tower  had  been  too 
good  a  prison  for  him." 

Buckingham  bowed  to  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  with  a  mean- 
ing which  even  his  triumph  could  not  disguise.  '^  Tu  me  la 
pagherai! "  he  muttered,  in  a  tone  of  deep  and  abiding  re- 
sentment ;  but  the  stout  old  Irishman,  who  had  long  since 
braved  his  utmost  wrath,  cared  little  for  this  expression  of 
his  displeasure. 

The  King  then,  signing  to  the  other  nobles  to  pass  into 
the  public  apartments,  stopped  Buckingham  as  he  was  about 
to  follow  them  ;  and,  when  they  were  alone,  asked,  with  a 
significant  tone,  which  brought  all  the  blood  in  the  duke's 
veins  into  his  countenance,  **  When  was  it  George,  that  your 
useful  friend  Colonel  Blood  became  a  musician  ?  You  are 
silent,''  he  said  ;  '^  do  not  deny  the  charge,  for  yonder  villain, 
once  seen,  is  remembered  forever.  Down — down  on  your 
knees,  George,  and  acknowledge  that  you  have  abused  my 
easy  temper.  Seek  for  no  apology — none  will  serve  your 
turn.  I  saw  the  man  myself  among  your  Germans,  as  you 
call  them  ;  and  you  know  what  I  must  needs  believe  from 
such  a  circumstance." 

*'  Believe  that  I  have  been  guilty — most  guilty,  my  lieg« 
and  King,"  said  the  duke,  conscience-struck,  and  kneeling 
down — **  believe  that  I  was  misguided — that   I  was   mad. 


558  H^A  VERLEY  NO VELS 

Believe  anything  but  that  I  was  capable  of  harming,  o> 
being  accessary  to  harm,  your  person/' 

*'I  do  not  believe  it,""  said  the  King  ;  "I  think  of  you, 
Villiers,  as  the  companion  of  my  dangers  and  my  exile,  and 
am  so  far  from  supposing  you  mean  worse  than  you  say,  that 
I  am  convinced  you  acknowledge  more  than  you  ever  meant 
to  attempt/' 

''  By  all  that  is  sacred/' said  the  duke,  still  kneeling,  *'had 
I  not  been  involved  to  the  extent  of  life  and  fortune  with 
the  villain  Christian " 

''Nay,  if  you  bring  Christian  on  the  stage  again,''  said  the 
King,  smiling,  ''it  is  time  for  me  to  withdraw.  Come, 
Villiers,  rise  ;  I  forgiv^e  thee,  and  only  recommend  one  act 
of  penance,  the  curse  you  yourself  bestowed  on  the  dog  who 
bit  you — marriage,  'and  retirement  to  your  country-seat." 

The  duke  rose  abashed,  and  followed  the  King  into  the 
circle,  which  Charles  entered,  leaning  on  the  shoulder  of  his 
repentant  peer  ;  to  whom  he  showed  so  much  countenance 
as  led  the  most  acute  observers  present  to  doubt  the  pos- 
sibility of  there  existing  any  real  cause  for  the  surmises  to 
the  duke's  prejudice. 

The  Countess  of  Derby  had  in  the  meanwhile  consulted 
with  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  with  the  Peverils,  and  with  her 
other  friends  ;  and,  by  their  unanimous  advice,  though  with 
considerable  difficulty,  became  satisfied  that  to  have  thus 
shown  herself  at  court  was  sufficient  to  vindicate  the  honor 
of  her  house  ;  and  that  it  was  her  wisest  course,  after  having 
done  so,  to  retire  to  her  insular  dominions,  without  farther 
provoking  the  resentment  of  a  powerful  faction.  She  took 
farewell  of  the  King  in  form,  and  demanded  his  permission 
to  carry  back  with  her  the  helpless  creature  who  had  so 
strangely  escaped  from  her  protection,  into  a  world  where 
her  condition  rendered  her  so  subject  to  every  species  of 
misfortune. 

"  Will  your  ladyship  forgive  me  ?  "  said  Charles.  "  I  have 
studied  your  sex  long — I  am  mistaken  if  your  little  maiden 
is  not  as  capable  of  caring  for  herself  as  any  of  us." 

"  Impossible  ! "  said  the  countess. 

"Possible  and  most  true,"  whispered  the  King.  ^'I  will 
instantly  convince  you  of  the  fact,  though  the  experiment  is 
too  delicate  to  be  made  by  any  but  your  ladyship.  Yonder 
she  stands,  looking  as  if  she  heard  no  more  than  the  marble 
pillar  against  which  she  leans.  Now,  if  Lady  Derby  will 
contrive  either  to  place  her  hand  near  the  region  of  the 
damsel's  heart,  or  at  least  on  her  arm,  so  that  she  can  feel  the 


PEVEEIL  OF  TEE  PEAK  559 

gensation  of  the  blood  when  the  pulse  increases,  then  do  you, 
my  Lord  of  Ormond,  beckon  Julian  Peveril  out  of  sight.  I 
will  show  you  in  a  moment  that  it  can  stir  at  sounds  spoken/' 

The  countess,  much  surprised,  afraid  of  some  embarrass- 
ing pleasantry  on  the  part  of  Charles,  yet  unable  to  repress 
her  curiosity,  placed  herself  near  Fenella,  as  she  called  her 
little  mute  ;  and,  while  making  signs  to  her,  contrived  to 
place  her  hand  on  her  wrist. 

At  this  moment  the  King,  passing  near  them,  said,  ''This 
is  a  horrid  deed  :  the  villain  Christian  has  stabbed  young 
Peveril!" 

The  mute  evidence  of  the  pulse,  which  bounded  as  if  a 
cannon  had  been  discharged  close  by  the  poor  girl's  ear,  was 
accompanied  by  such  a  loud  scream  of  agony  as  distressed, 
while  it  startled,  the  good-natured  monarch  himself.  "1 
did  but  jest,"  he  said  ;  ''Julian  is  well,  my  pretty  maiden, 
I  only  used  the  wand  of  a  certain  blind  deity,  called  Cupid, 
to  bring  a  deaf  and  dumb  vassal  of  his  to  the  exercise  of  her 
faculties."  * 

"  I  am  betrayed  ! "  she  said,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
ground — "  I  am  betrayed  !  and  it  is  fit  that  she,  whose  life 
has  been  spent  in  practising  treason  on  others,  should  be 
caught  in  her  own  snare.  But  where  is  my  tutor  in  ini- 
quity ?  Where  is  Christian,  who  taught  me  to  play  the 
part  of  spy  on  this  unsuspicious  lady,  until  I  had  wellnigh 
delivered  her  into  his  bloody  hands  ?  " 

"This,"  said  the  King,  "craves  more  secret  examination. 
Let  all  leave  the  apartment  who  are  not  immediately  con- 
nected with  these  proceedings,  and  let  this  Christian  be 
again  brought  before  us.  Wretched  man,"  he  continued, 
addressing  Christian,  "  what  wiles  are  these  you  have  prac- 
tised, and  by  what  extraordinary  means  ?  " 

"  She  has  betrayed  me,  then  ! "  said  Christian — "  be- 
trayed me  to  bonds  and  death,  merely  for  an  idle  passion, 
which  can  never  be  successful !  But  know,  Zarah,"  he 
added,  addressing  her  sternly,  "  when  my  life  is  forfeited 
through  thy  evidence,  the  daughter  has  murdered  the 
father  I " 

The  unfortunate  girl  stared  on  him  in  astonishment. 
"You  said,"  at  length  she  stammered  forth,  "that  I  was 
the  daughter  of  your  slaughtered  brother  ?  " 

"  That  was  partly  to  reconcile  thee  to  the  part  thou  wert 
to  play  in  my  destined  drama  of  vengeance,  partly  to  hide 

*  See  Acute  Senses  of  the  Blind.    Note  49. 


360  WA  VERLEY  NOVELS 

97hat  men  call  the  infamy  of  thy  birth.  But  my  daughter 
fciiou  art !  and  from  the  Eastern  clime,  in  which  thy  mother 
was  born,  you  derive  that  fierce  torrent  of  passion  which  I 
labored  to  train  to  my  purposes,  but  which,  turned  into 
another  channel,  has  become  the  cause  of  your  father^a 
destruction.     My  destiny  is  the  Tower,  I  suppose  ? '' 

He  spoke  these  words  with  great  composure,  and  scarce 
seemed  to  regard  the  agonies  of  his  daughter,  who,  throw- 
ing herself  at  his  feet,  sobbed  and  wept  most  bitterly. 

"'This  must  not  be,"  said  the  King,  moved  with  compas- 
sion at  this  scene  of  misery.  "  If  you  consent.  Christian, 
to  leave  this  country,  there  is  a  vessel  in  the  river  bound  for 
N"ew  England.    Go,  carry  your  dark  intrigues  to  other  lands." 

"  I  might  dispute  the  sentence,"  said  Christian,  boldly ; 
''  and  if  I  submit  to  it,  it  is  a  matter  of  my  own  choice. 
One  half  hour  had  made  me  even  with  that  proud  woman, 
but  fortune  hath  cast  the  balance  against  me.  Eise,  Zarah, 
Fenella  no  more  !  Tell  the  Lady  of  Derby  that,  if  the 
daughter  of  Edward  Christian,  the  niece  of  her  murdered 
victim,  served  her  as  a  menial,  it  was  but  for  the  purpose  of 
vengeance — miserably,  miserably  frustrated  !  Thou  seest 
thy  folly  now  :  thou  wouldst  follow  yonder  ungrateful  strip- 
ling, thou  wouldst  forsake  all  other  thoughts  to  gain  his 
slightest  notice ;  and  now  thou  art  a  forlorn  outcast,  ridi- 
culed and  insulted  by  those  on  whose  necks  you  might  have 
trod  had  you  governed  yourself  with  more  wisdom.  But 
come,  thou  art  still  my  daughter  ;  there  are  other  skies  than 
that  which  canopies  Britain." 

"  Stop  him,"  said  the  King  ;  '^  we  must  know  by  what 
means  this  maiden  found  access  to  those  confined  in  our 
prisons." 

"  I  refer  your  Majesty  to  your  most  Protestant  jailer,  and 
to  the  most  Protestant  peers,  who,  in  order  to  obtain  per- 
fect knowledge  of  the  depth  of  the  Popish  Plot,  have  con- 
trived these  ingenious  apertures  for  visiting  them  in  their 
cells  by  night  or  day.  His  Grace  of  Buckingham  can  assist 
vour  Majesty  if  you  are  inclined  to  make  the  inquiry."  * 

"  Christian,"  said  the  duke,  "  thou  art  the  most  bare- 
faced villain  who  ever  breathed  I  ^ 

'^  Of  a  commoner,  I  may,"  answered  Christian,  and  led 
his  daughter  out  of  the  presence. 

*  It  was  said  that  very  unfair  means  were  used  to  compel  the 
prisoners  committed  on  account  of  the  Popish  Plot  to  make  dis- 
closures, and  that  several  of  them  were  privately  put  to  the  tor 
tuie. 


FEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  561 

"See  after  him,  Selb}/,"  said  the  King — '^lose  not  sight 
Df  him  till  the  ship  sail ;  if  he  dare  return  to  Britain,  it 
shall  be  at  his  peril.  Would  to  God  we  had  as  good  rid- 
dance of  others  as  dangerous  !  And  I  would  also/'  he  added, 
after  a  moment's  pause,  '''that  all  our  political  intrigues  and 
feverish  alarms  could  terminate  as  harmlessly  as  now.  Here 
(s  a  plot  without  a  drop  of  blood  ;  and  all  the  elements  of  a 
romance  without  its  conclusion.  Here  we  have  a  wander- 
ing island  princess — I  pray  my  Lady  of  Derby's  pardon — a 
dwarf,  a  Moorish  sorceress,  an  impenitent  rogue,  and  a  re- 
pentant man  of  rank,  and  yet  all  ends  without  either  hang- 
ing or  marriage." 

"Not  altogether  without  the  latter,"  said  the  countess, 
who  had  an  opportunity,  during  the  evening,  of  much  pri- 
vate conversation  with  Julian  Peveril.  '^  There  is  a  certain 
Major  Bridgenorth,  who,  since  your  Majesty  relinquishes 
farther  inquiry  into  these  proceedings,  which  he  had  other- 
wise intended  to  abide,  designs,  as  we  are  informed,  to  leave 
England  forever.  Now  this  Bridgenorth,  by  dint  of  the 
vaw,  hath  acquired  strong  possession  over  the  domains  of 
Peveril,  which  he  is  desirous  to  restore  to  the  ancient 
owners,  with  much  fair  land  besides,  conditionally,  that 
our  young  Julian  will  receive  them  as  the  dowery  of  his  only 
child  and  heir." 

"By  my  faith,"  said  the  King,  "she  must  be  a  foul-fa- 
vored wench  indeed  if  Julian  requires  to  be  pressed  to  accept 
her  on  such  fair  conditions." 

"They  love  each  other  like  lovers  of  the  last  age,"  said 
the  countess  ;  "  but  the  stout  old  knight  likes  not  the 
Roundheaded  alliance." 

"Our  royal  recommendation  shall  put  that  to  right," 
said  the  King ;  "  Sir  Geoffrey  Peveril  has  not  suffered  hard- 
Bhip  so  often  at  our  command,  that  he  will  refuse  our  rec- 
ommendation when  it  comes  to  make  him  amends  for  all 
his  losses." 

It  may  be  supposed  the  King  did  not  speak  without  be- 
ing fully  aware  of  the  unlimited  ascendency  which  he  pos- 
sessed over  the  spirit  of  the  old  Tory  ;  for,  within  four  weeks 
afterwards,  the  bells  of  Martindale-Moultrassie  were  ringing 
for  the  union  of  the  families  from  whose  estates  it  takes  its 
compound  name,  and  the  beacon-light  of  the  castle  blazed 
high  over  hill  and  dale,  and  summoned  all  to  rejoice  who 
were  within  twenty  miles  of  its  gleam.* 

*  See  History  of  Colonel  Thomas  Blood.    Note  50. 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 


No.  I 

Thk  following  Notices  were  recommenrled  to  my  attention  in  the  politest  man- 
ner possible  by  John  Christian,  Esq.,  of  Milntown,  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  and  Unrigg 
[or  Ewanrigg],  in  Cumberland,  Dempster  at  present  of  the  Isle  of  Man.  This 
gentleman  is  naturally  interested  in  the  facts  which  are  stated,  as  representative 
of  the  respectable  family  of  Christian,  and  lineally  descended  from  William 
Dhone,  put  to  death  by  the  Countess  of  Derby.  I  can  be  no  way  interested  in 
refusing  Mr.  Christian  this  justice,  and  willingly  lend  my  aid  to  extend  the  ex- 
culpation of  the  family. 

HISTORICAL  NOTICES  OF  EDWARD  AND  WILLIAM 
CHRISTIAN, 

TWO  CHARACTERS  IN  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK. 

The  venerable  Dr.  Dryasdust,  in  a  preparatory  dialogue,  apprises  the  eidolon,  or 
apparition,  of  the  Author,  that  he  stood  "•  much  accused  tor  adulterating  the 
pure  sources,  of  historical  knowledge  ;  "  and  is  answered  by  that  emanation  of 
genius,  "  thai>  ne  has  done  some  service  to  the  public  if  he  can  present  to  them  a 
lively  fictitious  picture,  for  which  the  original  anecdote  or  circumstance  which 
he  made  free  to  press  into  his  service  only  furnished  a  slight  sketch  ;  that  by 
introducing  to  the  busy  and  the  youthful 

Truths  severe  in  fairy  fiction  dressed 

and  by  creating  an  interest  in  fictitious  adventures  ascribed  to  a  historical  period 
and  characters,  the  reader  begins  next  to  be  anxious  to  learn  what  the  facts 
really  were,  and  how  far  the  novelist  has  justly  represented  them." 

The  adventures  ascribed  to  "  historical  characters "  would,  however,  fail  in 
their  moral  aim  if  fiction  were  placed  at  variance  with  truth  ;  if  Hampden  or 
Sydney,  for  example,  were  painted  as  swindlers,  or  Lady  Jane  Grey  or  Rachel 
Russel  as  abandoned  women. 

"  Odzooks  !  must  one  swear  to  the  truth  of  a  song  ?  "  although  an  excellent 
ioke,  were  a  bad  palliation  in  such  a  case.  Fancy  may  be  fairly  indulged  in  the 
Blustration,  but  not  in  the  perversion,  of  fact ;  and  if  the  fictitious  picture 
should  have  no  general  resemblance  to  the  original,  the  flourish  of 

Truths  severe  in  fairy  fiction  dress'd 

were  but  an  aggravation  of  the  wrong. 

The  family  of  Christian  is  indebted  to  this  splendid  luminary  of  the  North  for 
abundant  notoriety. 

The  William  Christian  represented  on  one  part  as  an  ungrateful  traitor,  on  the 
other  as  the  victim  of  a  judicial  murder,  andT  his  brother  (or  relative)  Edward, 
one  of  the  suite  of  a  Duke*  of  Buckingham,  were  so  far  real  historical  persoi^s. 
Whether  the  talents  and  skill  of  Edward  in  imposing  on  Fenella  a  feigned  silence 

♦  Not  the  duke  described  in  Peveril,  but  the  companion  of  Charles  I.  in  his 
Spanish  romance. 

663 


664  APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

of  several  years  be  among  the  legitimate  or  supernatural  wonders  of  this  fertile 
genius,  his  fair  readers  do  not  seem  to  be  agreed.  Whether  the  residue  of  the 
canvass,  filled  up  with  a  masterly  picture  of  the  most  consummate  hypocrite 
and  Satanic  villain  ever  presented  to  the  imagination,  be  consistent  with  the 
historical  character  of  this  individual,  is  among  the  subjects  of  research  to  which 
the  novelist  has  given  a  direct  invitation  in  his  prefatory  chapter. 

English  history  furnishes  few  materials  to  aid  the  investigation  of  transactions 
chiefly  confined  to  the  Isle  of  Man.  Circumstances  led  me,  many  years  ago,  to 
visit  this  ancient  Lilliput ;  whether  as  one  of  those  "  smart  fellows  worth  talk- 
ing to,"  "■  in  consequence  of  a  tumble  from  my  barouclie,'  "  as  a  ruined  miner," 
or  ''  as  a  disapointed  speculator,"  is  of  no  material  import.  It  may  be  that 
temporary  enibarrassment  drove  me  into  seclusion,  without  any  of  the  irresist- 
ible inducements  alluded  to  ;  and  want  of  employment,  added  to  the  acquaint- 
ance and  aid  of  a  zealous  local  antiquary,  gradually  led  to  an  examination  of  all 
accessible  authorities  on  this  very  subject  among  others.  So  it  happened  ttiat  1 
had  not  landed  many  hours  before  1  found  the  mournful  ditty  of  William  Dohne 
("Brown"  or  "Fair-Haired  William,"  this  very  identical  William  Christian) 
twanged  through  the  demi-nasal,  demi-guttural  trumpet  of  the  carman,  and 
warbled  by  the  landlady's  pretty  daughter  ;  in  short,  making  as  great  a  figui-e 
in  its  little  sphere  as  did  once  the  more  important  ballad  of  Chevy  Chace  in  its 
wider  range ;  the  burden  of  the  song  purporting  that  William  Dhone  was  the 
mirror  of  virtue  and  patriotism,  and  that  envy,  hatred,  and  malice,  and  all  un- 
charitableness,  operate  the  destruction  of  the  wisest  and  the  best. 

Themes  of  popular  feeling  naturally  attract  the  earliest  notice  of  a  stranger  ; 
and  I  found  the  story  of  this  individual,  though  abundantly  garbled  and  dis- 
colored on  the  insular  records,  full  of  circumstances  to  excite  the  deepest  in- 
terest, but  which,  to  be  rendered  intelligible,  riiiust  be  approached  by  a  circuitous 
route,  in  which  neither  elfin  page  nor  maiden  fair  can  be  the  companion  of  our 
walk. 

The  loyal  and  celebrated  James  seventh  Earl  of  Derby  was  induced,  by  the 
circumstances  of  the  times,  to  fix  his  chief  residence  in  the  Isle  of  Man  from  1643 
to  1651.*  During  this  period  he  composed,  in  the  form  of  a  letter  t  to  his  Son 
Charles  (Lord  Strange),  an  historical  account  of  that  island,  with  a  statement 
of  his  own  proceedings  there,  interspersed  with  much  political  advice  for  the 
guidance  ot  his  successor,  full  of  acute  observation,  and  evincing  an  intimate 
acquaintance  with  the  works  of  Machiavelli,  which  it  appears,  by  a  quotation, t 
that  he  had  studied  in  a  Latin  edition.  The  work,  although  formally  divided 
into  chapters  and  numbered  paragraphs,  is  prof essedly  desultory.§  and  furnishes 
few  means  of  determining  the  relative  dates  of  his  facts,  which  must  accord- 
ingly be  supplied  by  internal  evidence,  and  in  some  cases  by  conjecture. 

He  appears  to  have  been  drawn  thither,  in  1643,  by  letters  II  intimating  the 
danger  of  a  revolt ;  the  "  people  had  begun  the  fashion  of  England  in  murmur- 
ing ;  "  "assembled  in  a  tumultuous  manner,  desiring  new  laws  .  .  .  they  would 
have  no  bishops,  pay  no  tithes  to  the  clergie  .  .  .  despised  authority,  rescued 
people  committed  by  the  governor,"  etc.,  etc. 

The  earl's  first  care  was  to  apply  himself  to  the  consideration  of  these  insur- 
rectionary movements  ;  and  as  he  found  some  interruption  to  his  proceedings  in 
the  conduct  of  Edward  Christian, H  an  attempt  shall  be  made,  so  far  as  our  limits 
will  admit,  to  extract  the  earl's  own  account  of  this  person 

*  His  countess  resided  at  Latham  House  (her  heroic  defense  of  which  is  well 
known)  until  1644  or  1645,  when  she  also  retired  to  the  Isle  of  Man.  A  contem- 
porary publication,  the  Mercurius  Aulicus,hy  John  Birkenhead,  says,  "The 
countesse,  it  seems,  stole  the  earl's  breeches,  when  he  fled  long  since  into  the 
Isle  of  Man  and  hath  in  his  absence  played  the  man  at  Latham."  This  insinua- 
tion is  certainly  unjust ;  but  the  earl  seems  to  consider  some  explanation  neces- 
sary, "why  he  left  the  land,  when  every  gallant  spirit  had  engaged  himself  for 
king  and  country."  Danger  of  revolt  and  invasion  of  the  island  constitute  the 
substance  of  this  explanation.  There  is  reason,  however,  to  conjecture  that  he 
had  been  disappointed  of  the  command  he  bad  a  right  to  expect,  when  he 
brought  a  considerable  levy  to  join  the  King  at  York.  Any  explanation,  in 
short,  might  be  listened  to,  except  a  doubt  of  his  loyalty  and  ardent  militiary 
spirit,  which  were  above  all  impeachment. 

t  Published  in  Peck's  Desiderafa  CurJosa,  in  1779. 

I  Peck,  p.  446— fortiter  calumniare,  aliquid  adhaerebit. 

I  Peck,  p.  446.  "  Loth  to  dwell  too  long  on  one  subject,"  "  skip  over  to  some 
other  matter." 

i  Peck,  p.  434. 

t  for  a  history  of  this  family,  established  in  the  Isle  of  Man  so  early  as  1422,  see 
Hutchinson's  History  of  Cumberland,  vol.  ii.  p.  146.  They  had  previously  been 
established  in  Wigtonshire 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION  665 

I  was  newly  *  got  acquainted  with  Captain  Christian,  whom  I  perceived  to 
have  abilities  enough  to  do  me  service.  ...  I  was  told  he  had  made  a  good 
fortune  in  the  Indies,  that  he  was  a  Mankesman  born.  .  .  .  He  is  excellent  good 
companie,  as  rude  as  a  sea  captain  should  be,  but  refined  as  one  that  had  civil- 
ized himself  half  a  year  at  court,  where  he  served  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  .  .  . 
"While  he  governed  here  some  few  years  he  pleased  me  very  well,  etc.,  etc.  But 
such  is  the  condition  of  man,  that  most  will  have  some  fault  or  other  to  blurr  all 
their  best  vertues  ;  and  his  was  of  that  condition  which  is  reckoned  with  drunk- 
ennesss,  viz.  covetousness,  both  marked  with  age  to  increase  and  grow  in  men. 
.  .  .  When  a  prince  has  given  all,  and  the  favorite  can  desire  no  more,  they  both 
grow  weary  of  one  another.t 

An  account  of  the  earl's  successive  public  meetings,  short  from  the  limits  of 
our  sketch,  is  extracted  in  a  note  $  from  the  headings  of  the  chapters  (appar- 
ently composed  by  Peck).  In  the  last  of  these  meetings  it  appears  that  Edward 
Christian  attempted  at  its  close  to  recapitulate  the  business  of  the  day.  "  Asked 
if  we  did  not  agree  thus  and  thus,  mentioning  some  things  (says  the  earl)  he  had 
instructed  the  people  to  aske  ;  which,  happily,  they  had  forgot."  The  earl  ac- 
cordingly rose  in  wrath,  and,  after  a  short  speech,  ••  bade  the  court  to  rise,  and 
no  man  to  speak  more."  "'Some,'' he  adds,  "were  committed  to  prison,  and 
there  abided,  until,  upon  submission  and  assurance  of  being  very  good  and 
quiet,  they  were  released,  and  others  .  .  .  were  put  in  their  rooms.  ...  I  thought 
fit  to  make  them  be  deeply  fined.  .  .  .  Since  this  they  have  all  come  in  most  sub- 
misse  and  loving  manner. "  §  Pretty  efficient  means  of  producing  quiet,  if  the 
despot  be  strong  enough,  and  with  it  such  love  as  suits  a  aespot's  fancy  !  Among 
the  prisoners  were  Edward  Christian  and  his  brother  William  of  Knockrushen  ; 
the  latter  was  released  in  1644,  on  giving  bond,  among  other  conditions,  not  to 
depart  the  island  without  license. 

Of  Edward,  the  earl  says,  ''  I  will  return  unto  Captain  Christian,  whose  busi- 
ness must  be  heard  the  next  week  (either  in  1644  or  early  in  1645).  He  is  still  in 
Erison,  and  I  believe  many  wonder  thereat,  as  savouring  of  injustice,  and  that 
is  trial  should  be  so  long  deferred.  .  .  .  Also  his  business  is  of  that  condition 
that  it  concerns  not  himself  alone.  ...  If  a  jurie  of  the  people  do  passe  upon 

*  This  is  an  example  of  the  difficulty  of  arranging  the  relative  dates  ;  the  word 
"  newly,"  thus  employed  at  the  earliest  in  1643,  refers  to  1628,  the  date  of  the 
appointment  of  E.  Christian  to  be  governor  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  which  office  he 
had  till  1635  (Sacheverell's  Account  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  published  in  1702,  p.  100), 
the  earl  being  then  Lord  Strange,  but  apparently  taking  the  lead  in  public  busi- 
ness during  his  father's  lifetime. 

•I-  Peck,  pp.  443,  444.  There  is  apparently  some  error  in  Hutchinson's  genealogy 
of  the  family  in  his  History  of  Cumberland  :  1st  brother,  John,  born  1602  ;  2d, 
died  young  ;  3d,  William,  born,  1608  ;  4th,  Edward,  Lieut. -(Governor  of  the  Isle 
of  Man,  1629  (according  to  Sacheverell,  p.  100,  1628).  This  Edward's  birth  cannot 
be  placed  earlier  than  1609,  and  he  could  not  well  have  made  a  fortune  in  the 
Indies,  have  frequented  the  court  of  Charles  I.,  and  be  selected  as  a  fit  person  to 
be  a  governor,  at  the  age  of  nineteen  or  twenty.  The  person  mentioned  in  the 
text  was  obviously  of  mature  age  ;  and  Edward  the  governor  appears  to  have 
been  the  younger  brother  of  William  Christian,  a  branch  of  the  same  family, 
possessing  the  estate  of  Knockrushen,  near  Castle  Rushen,  who,  as  well-  as 
Edward,  was  imprisoned  in  Peel  Castle  in  1643. 

t  Peck,  p.  33»,  et  seq.  "  Chap.  viii.  The  earl  appoints  a  meeting  of  the  natives, 
every  man  to  give  in  his  grievances  ;  upon  which  some  think  to  outwit  him, 
which  he  winks  at,  being  not  ready  for  them,  therefore  cajoles  and  divides 
them  ;  on  the  appointed  day  he  appears  with  a  good  guard  ;  the  people  give  in 
their  complaints  quietly  and  retire.  Chap>  ix.  Another  meeting  appointed, 
where  he  also  appears  with  a  good  guard.  Many  busy  men  speak  only  Mankes, 
whioh  a  more  designing  person  (probably  Captain  Christian,  a  late  governor) 
would  hinder,  but  the  earl  forbids  it;  advice  about  appearing  in  public  ;  the 
Mankesmen  great  talkers  and  wranglers  ;  the  earl's  spies  get  in  with  them  and 
wheedle  them.  Chap.  x.  The  night  before  the  meeting  the  earl  consults  with 
his  officers  what  to  answer  ;  but  tells  them  nothing  of  his  spies  ;  compares  both 
reports,  and  keeps  back  his  own  opinion  ;  sends  some  of  the  officers,  who  he 
knew  would  be  troublesome,  out  of  the  way,  about  other  matters  ;  the  (present) 
governor  afresh  commended  ;  what  counselors  the  properest.  Chap.  xi.  The 
earl's  carriage  to  the  people  at  his  first  going  over  ;  his  carriage  at  the  meeting 
to  modest  petitioners,  to  impudent,  to  the  most  confident,  and  to  the  most  dan- 
gerous, viz.  them  who  stood  behind  and  prompted  others.  All  things  being 
agreed.  Captain  Christian  cunningly  begins  a  disturbance  ;  the  earl's  reply  to 
him  and  speech  to  the  people  ;  Christian  is  stroke  blank  ;  several  [people]  Qom- 
mitted  to  prison  and  fined,  which  quiets  them." 

§  Peck,  p.  443.  I 


566  APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

him,  bein^  he  hath  so  cajoled  them  to  believe  he  suffers  for  their  sakes,  it  is 
likely  they  would  quit  him,  and  then  might  he  laugh  at  us,  whom  I  had  rather 
he  had  betrayed.  ...  I  remember  one  said  it  was  safer  much  to  take  men's 
lives  than  their  estates ;  for  their  children  will  sooner  much  forget  the  death  of 
their  father  than  the  loss  of  their  patrimorae."*  Edward  died  in  custody  in  Peel 
Castle  in  1650,t  after  an  imprisonment  of  between  seven  and  eight  years  ;  and  so 
far,  at  least,  no  ground  can  be  discovered  for  that  gratitude  which  is  afterwards 
said  to  have  been  violated  by  this  family,  unless  indeed  we  transplant  ourselves 
to  those  countries  where  it  is  the  fashion  to  flog  a  public  oflBcer  one  day  and 
replace  him  in  authority  the  next. 

The  insular  records  detail  with  minuteness  the  complaints  of  the  people  rel- 
ative to  the  exactions  of  the  church,  and  their  adjustment  by  a  sort  of  public 
arbitration  in  October  1643.  But  it  is  singular,  that  neither  in  these  records  nor 
in  the  earl's  very  studied  narrative  of  the  modes  of  discussion,  the  offenses,  and 
the  punishments,  is  one  word  to  be  found  regarding  the  more  important  points 
actually  at  issue  between  himself  and  the  people.  The  fact,  however,  is  fully  - 
developed,  as  if  by  accident,  in  one  of  the  chapters  (xvi.)  of  this  very  desultory 
but  sagacious  performance.  "  There  comes  this  very  instant  an  occasion  to  me 
to  acquaint  you  with  a  special  matter,  which,  if  by  reason  of  these  troublesome 
and  dangerous  times,  I  cannot  bring  to  passe  my  intents  therein,  you  may  in 
your  better  leisure  consider  thereof,  and  make  some  use  hereafter  or  my  present 
labors,  in  the  matter  of  a  certain  holding  in  this  country,  called  the  tenure  of 
the  straw ;  t  whereby  men  thinke  their  dwellings  are  their  own  auntient  in- 
heritances, and  that  they  may  passe  the  same  to  any,  and  dispose  thereof  with- 
out license  from  the  lord,  but  paying  him  a  bare  small  rent  like  unto  a  f ee-f arme 
in  England  ;  wherein  they  are  much  deceived." 

William  the  Conqueror,  among  his  plans  for  the  benefit  of  his  English  sub- 

}ects,  adopted  that  of  inducing  or  compelling  them  to  surrender  their  allodial 
ands,  and  receive  them  back  to  hold  by  feudal  tenure.  The  Earl  of  Derby  pro- 
jected the  surrender  of  a  similar  right,  in  order  to  create  tenures  more  profit- 
able to  himself —a  simple  lease  for  three  lives,  or  twenty-one  years.  The  measure 
was  entirely  novel,  although  the  attempt  to  prevent  §  alienation  without  license 
from  the  lord,  for  purposes  of  a  less  profitable  exaction,  may  be  traced,  together 
with  the  scenes  of  violence  it  produced,  through  many  passages  in  the  ancient 
records,  which  would  be  inexplicable  without  this  clue. 

The  earl  proceeded,  certainly  with  sufficient  energy  and  considerable  skill, 
to  the  accomplishment  of  his  object.  In  the  very  year  of  his  arrival,  Dec.  1643, 
he  appointed  commissioners  to  compound  for  leases,  consisting  of  some  of  his 

grincipal  officers  (members  of  council),  il  who  had  themselves  been  prevailed  on 
y  adequate  considerations  to  surrender  their  estates,  and  are  by  general  tradi- 
tion accused  of  having  conspired  to  delude  their  simple  countrymen  into  the 
persuasion  that,  having  no  title-deeds,  their  estates  were  insecure,  that  leases 
were  title-deeds,  and  although  nominally  for  limited  terms,  declared  the  lands 
to  be  descendible  to  their  eldest  sons.  It  is  remarkable  that  the  names  of  Ewan 
and  William  Christian,  two  of  the  council,  are  alone  excluded  from  this  com- 
mission. 


*  Peck,  pp.  448,  449. 

t  Feltham's  Tour,  p.  161,  places  this  event  (while  a  prisoner  in  Peel  Castle),  on 
the  authority  of  a  tombstone,  in  1660,  "  John  Greenhalgh  being  governor."  Now 
John  Greenhalgh  ceased  to  be  governor  in  1651 ;  the  date  is  probably  an  error  in 
the  press  for  1650. 

X  In  the  transfer  of  real  estates  both  parties  came  into  the  common  law  court, 
and  the  grantor,  in  the  face  of  the  court,  transferred  his  title  to  the  purchaser 
by  the  delivery  of  a  straw  ;  which,  being  recorded,  was  his  title.  The  same 
practise  prevailed  in  the  transfer  of  personal  property.  Sir  Edwark  Coke,  iv. 
69,  when  speaking  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  says,  "  Upon  the  sale  of  a  horse,  or  any 
contract  for  any  other  thing,  they  make  the  stipulation  perfect  per  traditionem 
attpuicB "  (by  the  delivery  of  a  straw(.  Perhaps  a  more  feasible  etymology  of 
"  stipulation  "  than  the  usual  derivation  from  stipes  (a  stake  or  land-mark),  or 
stips  (a  piece  of  money  or  wages). 

§  Among  those  instances  in  which  "  the  commands  of  the  lord  proprietor  have 
(in  the  emphatic  words  of  the  commissioners  of  1791,  p.  67)  been  obtruded  on  the 
people  as  laws,"  we  find,  in  1583,  the  prohibition  to  dispose  of  lands  without 
license  of  the  lord  is  prefaced  by  the  broad  admission,  that,  "  contrary  to  good 
and  laudable  order,  and  divers  and  sundry  general  restraints  made,  the  inhabi- 
tants have,  and  daily  do,  notwithstanding  the  said  restrainte,  buy,  sell,  give, 
grant,  chop  and  exchange  their  farms,  lands,  tenements,  etc.,  at  their  libertie« 
and  pleasures."  AUenation  fines  were  first  exacted  in  1643.  Report  of  Commif 
$ionera  of  1791.     App.  A.,  No.  71,  Rep.  of  Law  OMcers. 

J  The  governor,  comptroller,  receiver,  and  Joan  Cannell,  deemster. 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION  667 

We  have  already  seen  two  of  the  name  committed  to  prison.  The  following 
notices,  which  abundantly  unfold  the  ground  of  the  earl's  hostility  to  the  nam« 
of  Christian,  relate  to  Ewan  Christian,  the  father  of  William  Dhone,  and  one  of 
the  deemsters  *  excluded  from  the  commission. 

One  presented  me  a  petition  against  Deemster  Christian,  on  the  behalf  of  an 
infant  who  is  conceived  to  have  a  right  unto  his  farme,  late  Rainsway  (Ronalds- 
way),  one  of  the  principal  holdings  of  this  country,  who,  by  reason  of  his  emi- 
nencie  here,  and  that  he  holdeth  much  of  the  same  tenure  of  the  straw  in  other 
places,  he  is  soe  observed,  that  certainly  as  I  temper  the  matter  with  him  in 
this,  soe  shall  I  prevail  with  others,  t  .  .  .  By  policie  X  they  (the  Christians)  are 
crept  into  the  principal  places  of  power,  and  they  be  seated  round  about  the 
country,  and  in  the  heart  of  it ;  they  are  matched  with  the  best  families,  etc. 

The  prayer  in  the  petition,  §  formerly  mentioned,  was  to  this  effect,  that  there 
might  be  a  fair  tryal,  and,  when  the  right  was  recovered,  that  I  would  graunt 
them  a  lease  thereof,  this  being  in  the  tenure  of  the  straw.  .  .  .  Upon  some 
conference  with  the  petitioner,  I  find  a  motion  heretofore  was  made  by  my  com- 
missioners, that  the  Deemster  should  give  this  fellow  a  summe  of  money.  But 
he  would  part  with  none,  neverthelesse  now  it  may  be  he  will,  and  I  hope  be  so 
wise  as  to  assure  unto  himself  his  holding,  by  compounding  with  me  for  the 
lease  of  the  same,  to  the  which,  if  they  two  agree,  I  shall  grant  it  him  on  easy 
terms.    For  if  he  break  the  ice,  I  may  haply  catch  some  fish.  I 

The  issue  of  this  piscatory  project  was  but  too  successful.  Ewan  bent  to  the 
reign  of  terror,  and  gave  up  Ronaldsway  to  his  son  William,  who  accepted  the 
lease,  and  named  his  own  descendants  for  the  lives.  Still  the  objects  attained 
were  unsubstantial,  as  being  contrary  to  all  law,  written  or  oral ;  and  the 
system  was  incomplete,  until  sanctioned  by  the  semblance  of  legislative  con- 
firmation. 

We  have  seen  that  the  earl  had  in  the  island  a  considerable  military  force,  and 
we  know  from  other  sources  1!  that  they  lived  in  a  great  measure  at  free  quarters. 
We  have  his  own  testimony  for  stating  that  he  achieved  his  objects  by  imprison- 
ing, until  his  prisoners  "promised  to  be  good,"  and  successively  filling  their 
places  with  others,  until  they  also  conformed  to  his  theory  of  public  virtue. 
And  the  reader  will  be  prepared  to  hear,  without  surprise,  that  the  same  means 
enabled  him,  in  1645,  to  arrange  a  legislature  **  capable  of  yielding  a  forced  assent 
to  this  notable  system  of  submission  and  loving-kindness. 

This  is  perhaps  the  most  convenient  place  for  stating  that,  in  the  subsequent 
surrender  of  the  island  to  the  troops  of  the  Parliament,  the  only  stipulation 
made  by  the  islanders  was,  "  that  they  might  enjoy  their  lands  and  liberties  as 
they  formerly  had."  In  what  manner  this  stipulation  was  performed,  my  notes 
do  not  enable  me  to  state.  The  restoration  of  Charles  II.,  propitious  in  other 
respects,  inflicted  on  the  Isle  of  Man  the  revival  of  its  feudal  government ;  and 
the  affair  of  the  tenures  continued  to  be  a  theme  of  perpetual  contest  and  un- 
availing complaint,  until  finally  adjusted  in  1703,  through  the  mediation  of  the 
excellent  Bishop  Wilson  in  a  legislative  compromise,  known  by  the  name  of  the 
Act  of  Settlement,  whereby  the  people  obtained  a  full  recognition  of  their  an- 
cient rights,  on  condition  of  doubling  the  actual  quit-rents,  and  consenting  to 
alienation  fines,  first  exacted  by  the  Earl  James  in  1643. ft 

In  1G48,  William  Dhone  was  appointed  receiver-general ;  and  in  the  same  year 
we  find  his  elder  brother,  John  (assistant-deemster  to  his  father  Ewan),  com- 
mitted to  Peel  Castle  on  one  of  these  occasions,  which  strongly  maiks  the  char- 

*  Deemster,  evidently  Anglicized,  the  person  who  deems  the  law— a  designation 
anciently  unknown  among  the  natives,  who  continue  to  call  this  oflflcer  hrehon, 
identical  with  the  name  of  those  judges  and  laws  so  often  mentioned  in  the  his- 
tories of  Ireland. 

t  Peck,  p.  447.  t  ib.  p.  448. 

§  I  have  ascertained  the  date  of  this  petition  to  be  1643. 

II  Covetousness  is  not  attributed  to  the  head  of  the  family ;  but  the  earl 
makes  himself  merry  with  his  gallantry  :  natural  children,  it  seems,  took  the 
name  of  their  father,  and  not  of  their  mother,  as  elsewhere,  and  "  the  deemster 
did  not  get  soe  many  for  lust's  sake  as  to  make  the  name  of  Christian  flourish." 
Of  him,  or  a  successor  of  the  same  name,  it  is  related,  that  he  "  won  £500  at 
play  from  the  Bishop  of  Sodor  and  Man,  with  which  he  purchased  the  manor  of 
Ewanrigg  in  Cumberland,  still  possessed  by  that  family." 

t  Evidence  on  the  mock  trial  of  William  Dhdne. 

**  We  shall  see,  by  and  by,  a  very  simple  method  of  packing  a  judicial  and 
legT'slatlve  body,  by  removing  and  replacing  seven  individuals  by  one  and  the 
same  mandate. 

+t  Report  of  1791.    App.  A.,  No.  71. 


608  APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

acter  of  the  person  and  the  times,  and  affords  also  a  glimpse  at  the  feeling  oi 
the  people,  and  at  the  condition  of  the  devoted  family  of  Christian.  The  inquisi- 
tive will  find  it  in  a  note  ;  *  other  readers  will  pass  on. 

The  circumstances  are  familiarly  known,  to  the  reader  of  English  history,  of 
the  march  of  the  Earl  of  Derby,  in  1051,  with  a  corps  from  the  Isle  of  Man  for 
the  service  of  the  King,  his  joining  the  Royal  army  on  the  eve  of  the  battle  of 
Worcester,  his  flight  and  imprisonment  at  Chester,  after  the  signal  defeat,  and 
his  irial  and  execution  at  Bolton  in  Lancashii'e,  by  the  officers  of  the  Parliament, 
on  the  15th  October  of  that  year. 

Immediately  afterwards.  Colonel  Duckenfield,  who  commanded  at  Chester  on 
behalf  of  the  Parliament,  proceeded  with  an  armament  of  ten  ships  and  a  con- 
siderable military  force,  -for  the  reduction  of  the  Isle  of  Man. 

William  Christian  was  condemned  and  executed  in  1662-63,  for  acts  connected 
with  its  surrender,  twelve  years  before,  which  are  still  involved  in  obscurity  ; 
and  it  will  be  most  acceptable  to  the  general  reader  that  we  should  pass  ever 
the  intermediate  period,  t  and  leave  the  facts  regarding  this  individual,  all  of 
them  extraordinary  and  some  of  peculiar  interest,  to  be  developed  by  the  record 
of  the  trial  and  documents  derived  from  other  sources. 

A  mandate  by  Charles,  eighth  Earl  of  Derby,  dated  at  Latham  in  September 
1663,  after  descanting  on  the  heinous  sin  of  rebellion,  aggravated  by  its  being 
instrumental  X  in  the  death  of  the  lord,  and  stating  that  he  is  himself  concerned 
to  revenge  a  father's  blood,  orders  William  Christian  to  be  proceeded  against 
forthwith,  for  all  his  illegal  actions  at,  before,  or  after  the  year  1651  (a  pretty 
sweeping  range).  The  indictment  charges  him  with"  being  the  head  of  an  insur- 
rection against  the  Countess  of  Derby  in  1651,  assuming  the  power  unto  himself, 
and  depriving  her  ladyship,  his  lordship,  and  heirs  thereof." 

A  series  of  depositions  appear  on  record  from  the  3d  to  the  13th  October  [29th 
November],  and  a  reference  by  the  precious  depositaries  of  justice  of  that  day 
to  the  twenty-four  keys,§  "Whether,  upon  the  examination  taken  and  read 
before,  you  find  Mr.  W.  Christian  of  Ronaldsway  within  compass  of  the  statute 
of  the  year  1422 — that  is,  to  receive  a  sentence  without  quest,  or  to  be  tried  iu 

*  A  person  named  Charles  Vaughan  is  brought  to  lodge  an  information,  that, 
being  in  England,  he  fell  into  company  with  a  young  man  named  Christian,  who 
said  he  had  lately  left  the  Isle  of  Man,  and  was  in  search  of  a  brother,  who  was 
clerk  to  a  Parliament  officer  ;  that,  in  answer  to  some  questions,  he  said,  "  The 
earl  did  use  the  inhabitants  of  that  isle  very  hardly,  had  estreated  great  fines 
from  the  inhabitants,  had  changed  the  ancient  tenures,  and  forced  them  to  take 
leases  ;  that  he  had  taken  away  one  hundred  pounds  a  year  from  his  father,  and 
had  kept  his  uncle  in  prison  four  or  five  years.  But  if  ever  the  earl  came  to 
England,  he  had  used  the  inhabitants  so  hardly,  that  he  was  sure  they  would 
never  suffer  him  to  land  in  that  island  again."  An  order  is  given  to  imprison 
John  Christian  (probably  the  reputed  head  of  the  family,  his  father  being  ad- 
vanced in  years)  in  Peel  Castle,  until  he  entered  into  bonds  to  be  of  good  behav- 
ior, and  not  to  depart  the  isle  without  license.  (Insular  Records.)  The  young 
man  in  question  is  said  to  have  been  the  son  of  William  Christian  of  Knock- 
rushen. 

t  Some  readers  may  desire  an  outline  of  this  period.  The  lordship  of  the  island 
was  given  to  Lord  Fairfax,  who  deputed  commissioners  to  regulate  its  affairs ; 
one  of  them  (Chaloner)  published  an  account  of  the  island  in  1656.  He  puts 
down  William  Christian  as  receiver-general  in  1653.  We  find  his  name  as  governor 
from  1656 to  1658  (Sacheverell,  p.  101),  in  which  year  he  was  succeeded  by  Chaloner 
himself.  Among  the  anomalies  of  those  times,  it  would  seem  that  he  had  re- 
tained the  office  of  receiver  while  officiating  as  governor  ;  and  Episcopacy  hav- 
ing been  abolished,  and  the  receipts  of  the  see  added  to  those  of  the  exchequer, 
he  had  large  accounts  to  settle,  for  which  Chaloner  sequestered  his  estates  in  his 
absence,  and  imprisoned  and  held  to  bail  his  brother  John,  for  aiding  what  he 
calls  his  escape  ;  his  son  George  returned  from  England,  by  permission  of  Lord 
Fairfax,  to  settle  his  father's  accounts.  Chaloner  informs  us  that  the  rev*^nue8 
of  the  suppressed  see  were  not  appropriated  to  the  private  use  of  Lord  Fairfax, 
who,  "  for  the  better  encouragement  and  support  of  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel, 
and  for  the  promoting  of  learning,  hath  conferred  all  this  revenue  upon  the 
ministers,  as  also  for  the  maintaining  of  free  schools,  i.  e.  at  Castletown,  Peel, 
Douglass,  and  Ramsay."  Chaloner  pays  a  liberal  tribute  to  the  talents  of  the 
clergy  and  the  learning  and  piety  of  the  late  bishops. 

t  See  the  remark  in  Christian's  dying  speech,  that  the  late  earl  had  been 
executed  eight  days  before  the  insurrection. 

§  The  court  for  criminal  trials  was  composed  of  the  governor  and  council  (in- 
cluding the  deemsters)  and  the  keys,  who  also,  with  the  lord,  composed  the  three 
branches  of  the  legislative  body ;  and  it  was  the  practise  in  cases  of  doubt  to 
refer  points  of  customary  law  to  the  deemsters  and  keys. 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION  fieO 

the  ordinary  course  of  law."  This  body,  designated  on  the  record  "  so  many  of 
the  keys  as  were  then  present,"  were  in  number  seventeen  ;  but  not  being  yet 
sufficiently  select  to  approve  of  sentence  without  trial,  made  their  return,  "  To 
be  tried  by  course  of  law." 

On  the  26th  November,  it  is  recorded  that  the  governor  and  attorney-general 
having  proceeded  to  the  jail  "  with  a  guard  of  soldiers,  to  require  him  (Christian) 
to  the  bar  to  receive  his  trial,  he  refused,  and  denied  to  come  and  abide  the  same  " 
(admirable  courtesy  to  invite,  instead  of  bringing  him  to  the  bar  I )  ;  whereupon 
the  governor  demanded  the  law  of  Deemster  Norris,  who  then  sat  in  judication. 
Deemster  John  Christian  having  not  appeared,  and  Mr.  Edward  Christian,  *  his 
son  and  assistant,  having  also  foi'borne  to  sit  in  this  court,  he  the  said  Deemster 
Norris  craved  the  advice  and  assistance  of  the  twenty-four  keys  ;  and  the  said 
deemster  and  keys  deemed  the  law  therein,  to  wit,  that  he  is  at  the  mercy  of  the 
lord  for  life  and  goods. 

It  will  be  observed  that  seven  of  the  keys  were  formerly  absent,  on  what  account 
we  shall  presently  see.  All  this  was  very  cleverly  arranged  by  the  following 
recorded  order,  29th  December—"  These  of  the  twenty-four  keys  are  removed  of 
that  company,  in  reference  to  my  honourable  lord's  order  in  that  behalf  ;  " 
enumerating  seven  names,  not  of  the  seventeen  before  mentioned,  and  naming 
seven  others  who  "  are  sworn  t  in  their  places."  The  judicature  is  farther  im- 
proved by  transferring  an  eighth  individual  of  the  first  seventeen  to  the  council, 
and  filling  his  place  with  another  proper  person.  These  facts  have  been  related 
with  some  minuteness  of  detail  for  two  reasons  :  1st,  Although  nearly  equaled 
by  some  of  the  subsequent  proceedings,  they  would  not  be  credited  on  common 
authority  ;  and  2d,  They  render  all  comment  unnecessary,  and  prepare  the 
reader  for  any  judgment,  however  extraordinary,  to  be  expected  from  such  a 
tribunal. 

Then  come  the  proceedings  of  the  29th  December— the  proposals,  as  they  are 
named,  to  the  deemsters  %  and  twenty -four  keys  now  assembled  "to  be  answered 
in  point  of  law."  1st,  Any  malefactor,  etc.,  being  indicted,  etc.,  and  denying  to 
abide  the  law  of  his  country  in  that  course  (notwithstanding  any  argument  or 
plea  he  may  offer  for  himself),  and  thereupon  deemed  to  forfeit  body  and  goods. 
etc.,  whether  he  may  afterwards  obtain  the  same  benefit,  etc.  etc.  ;  to  which,  on 
the  same  day,  they  answered  in  the  negative.  It  was  found  practicable,  on  the 
21st,  to  bring  the  prisoner  to  the  bar,  to  hear  his  sentence  of  being  "  shot  to' 
death,  that  thereupon  his  life  may  depart  from  his  body  ;  "  which  sentence  was 
executed  on  the  2d  of  January  1663. 

That  he  made  "  an  excellent  speech"  at  the  place  of  execution  is  recorded, 
where  we  should  little  expect  to  find  it,  in  the  parochial  register  ;  the  accuracy 
of  that  which  has  been  preserved  as  such  in  the  family  of  a  clergyman  (and 
appears  to  have  been  printed  on  or  before  1776  §  )  rests  chiefly  on  internal  evi- 
dence, and  on  its  accordance,  in  some  materials  points,  with  facts  suppressed  or 
distorted  in  the  records,  but  established  in  the  proceedings  of  the  privy  council. 
It  is  therefore  given  without  abbreviation,  and  the  material  points  of  evidence 
in  the  voluminous  depositions  on  both  trials  ||  are  extracted  for  reference  in  a 
note.  1 

*  The  grandson  of  Evan.  It  appears  by  the  proceedings  of  the  King  in  council, 
1663,  that  "  he  did,  when  the  court  refused  to  admit  of  the  deceased  William 
Christian's  plea  of  the  Act  of  Indemnity,  make  his  protestation  against  their 
illegal  proceedings,  and  did  withdraw  himself,  and  came  to  England  to  solicit  his 
Majesty,  and  implore  his  justice." 

t  The  Commissioners  of  1791  are  in  doubt  regarding  the .  time  when,  and  the 
manner  in  which,  the  keys  were  first  elected  ;  this  notable  precedent  had  perhaps 
not  fallen  under  their  observation. 

X  Hugh  Cannell  was  now  added  as  a  second  deemster. 

§  One  of  the  copies  in  my  possession  is  stated  to  be  transcribed  in  that  year 
from  the  printed  speech,  the  other  as  stated  in  the  text. 

S  Both  trials  :  the  first  is  for  the  same  purposes  as  the  English  grand  jury,  with 
this  most  especial  difference,  that  evidence  is  admitted  for  the  prisoner,  and  it 
thus  becomes  what  it  is  frequently  called,  the  first  trial ;  the  second,  if  the  in- 
dictment be  found,  is  in  all  respects  like  that  by  petty  jury  in  England. 

t  This  testimony  will  of  course  be  received  with  due  suspicion,  and  confronted 
with  the  only  defense  known,  that  of  his  dying  speech.  It  goes  to  establish  that 
Christian  had  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  an  association,  bound  by  a  secret 
oath  to  "  withstand  the  Lady  of  Derby  in  her  designs  until  she  had  yielded  or 
condescended  to  their  aggrievances  ;  "  among  which  grievances,  during  the  earl's 
residence,  we  find  incidentally  noticed,  "  the  troop  that  was  in  the  isle  and  their 
free  quarterage  ;  "  that  he  had  represented  her  ladyship  to  have  deceived  him, 
by  entering  into  negotiations  with  the  Parliament,  contrary  to  her  promise  to 
communicate  with  him  in  such  a  case ;  that  Christian  and  his  associates  declared 
that  she  was  about  to  sell  them  for  twopence  or  threepence  a-piece  ;  that  he  told 


570  APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

The  last  Speech  of  William  Christian,  Esq.,  who  was  executed  2d  January 
1662-58:— 

Gentlemen,  and  the  rest  of  you  who  have  accompanied  me  this  day  to  the  gate 
of  death,  I  know  you  expect  I  should  say  something  at  my  departure  ;  and  in- 
deed I  am  in  some  measure  willing  to  satisfy  you,  having  not  had  the  least  lib- 
erty, since  my  imprisonment,  to  acquaint  any  with  the  sadness  of  my  suflferings, 
which  flesh  and  blood  could  not  have  endured  without  the  power  and  assistance 
of  my  most  gracious  and  good  God,  into  whose  hands  I  do  now  commit  my  poor 
soul,  not  doubting  but  that  I  shall  very  quickly  be  in  the  arms  of  His  mercy. 

I  am,  as  you  now  see,  hurried  hither  by  the  power  of  a  pretended  court  of  jus- 
tice, the  members  whereof,  or  at  least  the  greatest  part  of  them,  are  by  no  means 
qualified,  but  very  ill  befitting  their  new  places.  The  reasons  you  may  give 
yourselves. 

The  cause  for  which  I  am  brought  hither,  as  the  prompted  and  threatened  jury 
has  delivered,  is  high  treason  against  the  Countess  Dowager  of  Derby  ;  for  that 
I  did,  as  they  say,  in  the  year  fifty-one,  raise  a  force  against  her  for  the  suppress- 
ing and  rooting  out  that  family.  How  unjust  the  accusation  is,  very  few  of  you 
that  hear  me  this  day  but  can  witness  ;  and  that  the  then  rising  of  the  people,  in 
which  afterwards  I  came  to  be  engaged,  did  not  at  all,  or  in  the  least  degree,  in- 
tend the  prejudice  or  ruin  of  that  family  ;  the  chief  whereof  being,  as  you  well 
remember,  dead  eight  days,  or  thereabouts,  before  that  action  happened.  But 
the  true  cause  of  that  rising,  as  *  the  jury  did  twice  bring  in,  was  to  present 
grievances  to  our  honorable  lady  ;  which  was  done  by  me,  and  afterwards  ap- 

g roved  by  her  ladyship,  under  the  hand  of  her  then  secretary,  M.  Trevach,  who 
\  yet  living,  which  agreement  hath  since,  to  my  own  ruin  and  my  poor  family's 
endless  sorrow,  been  forced  from  me.    The  Lord  God  forgive  them  the  injustice 
of  their  dealings  with  me,  and  I  wish  from  my  heart  it  may  not  be  laid  to  their 
charge  another  day  1 
You  now  see  me  here  a  sacrifice  ready  to  be  offered  up  for  that  which  was  the 

his  associates  that  he  had  entered  into  correspondence  with  Major  Fox  and  the 
■Parliament,  and  received  their  authority  to  raise  the  country  ;  that  in  con- 
sequence of  this  insurrection  her  ladyship  appointed  commissioners  to  treat  with 
others  "  on  the  part  of  the  countrj',"  and  articles  of  agreement  were  concluded 
(see  the  speech)  which  nowhere  now  appear  ;  that  on  the  appearance  of  Ducken- 
field's  ships,  standing  for  Ramsay  Bay,  one  of  the  insurgents  boarded  them  off 
Douglas,  to  give  intelligence  of  the  condition  of  the  cotmtry  ;  "  the  disposable 
troops  marched  under  the  governor.  Sir  Philip  Musgrave,  for  Ramsay  ;  that 
when  the  shipping  had  anchored,  a  deputation  of  three  persons,  viz.  John 
Christian,  Ewan  Curphey,  and  William  Standish,  proceeded  on  board  to  negotiate 
for  the  surrender  of  the  island  (where  William  was  does  not  appear).  The  de- 
struction of  the  articles  of  agreement,  and  the  silence  of  the  records  regarding 
the  relative  strength  of  the  forces,  leave  us  without  the  means  of  determining 
the  degree  of  merit  or  demerit  to  be  ascribed  to  these  negotiators,  or  the  precise 
authority  under  which  they  acted  ;  but  the  grievances  to  be  redressed  are  cleared 
from  every  obscurity  by  the  all-suificient  testimony  of  the  terms  demanded  from 
the  victors,  "  that  they  might  enjoy  their  lands  and  liberties  as  formerly  they 
had  ;  and  that  it  was  demanded  whether  they  asked  any  more,  but  nothing  else 
was  demanded  that  this  examinant  heard  of.  The  taking  of  Loyal  Fort  near 
Ramsay  (commanded  by  a  Major  Duckenfield,  who  was  made  prisoner),  and  of 
Peel  Castle,  appear  on  record ;  but  nothing  could  be  found  regarding  the  sur- 
render of  Castle  Rushen,  or  of  the  Countess  of  Derby's  subsequent  imprisonment. 
Had  the  of  ten-repeated  tale  of  William  Christian  having  "treacherously  seized 
upon  the  lady  and  her  children,  with  the  governors  of  both  castles,  in  the  middle 
of  the  night "  (Rolfs  History  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  published  in  1773,  p.  89),  rested 
on  the  slightest  semblance  of  truth,  we  should  inevitably  have  found  an  attempt 
to  prove  it  in  the  proceedings  of  this  mock  trial.  In  the  absence  of  authentic 
details,  the  tradition  may  be  adverted  to,  that  her  ladyship,  on  learning  the  pro- 
ceedings at  Ramsay,  hastened  to  embark  in  a  vessel  she  had  prepared,  but  was 
intercepted  before  she  could  reach  it.  The  same  uncertainty  exists  with  regard 
to  any  negotiations  on  her  part  with  the  officers  of  the  Parliament,  as  alfirmed 
by  the  insurgents  ;  the  earl's  first  letter,  after  his  capture  and  before  his  trial, 
says — "  Truly,  as  matters  go,  it  will  be  best  for  you  to  make  conditions  for  your- 
self, children,  and  friends  in  the  manner  as  we  have  proposed,  or  as  you  can 
farther  agree  with  Col.  Duckenfield,  who,  being  so  much  a  gentleman  born,  will 
doubtless,  for  his  own  honor,  deal  fairly  with  you."  He  seems  also  to  have  hoped 
at  that  time  that  it  might  influence  his  own  fate ;  and  the  eloquent  and  affecting 
letter  written  immediately  beforie  his  execution  repeats  the  same  admonitions 
to  treat.— Rolt,  pp.  74  and  84. 
*  This  fact,  as  might  be  expected,  is  not  to  be  traced  on  the  record  of  the  trial 


I 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION  571 

preservation  of  your  lives  and  fortunes,  which  were  then  in  hazard,  but  that  1 
stood  between  you  and  your  (then  in  all  appearance)  utter  ruin.  I  wish  you  still 
may,  as  hitherto,  enioy  the  sweet  benefit  and  blessing  of  peace,  though  from  that 
minute  until  now  I  nave  still  been  prosecuted  and  persecuted,  nor  have  I  ever 
since  found  a  place  to  rest  myself  in.  But  my  God  be  forever  blessed  and  praised, 
who  hath  given  me  so  large  a  measure  of  patience  ' 

What  services  I  have  done  for  that  noble  family,  by  wnose  power  I  am  now  to 
take  my  latest  breath,  I  dare  appeal  to  themselves,  whether  I  have  not  deserved 
better  things  from  some  of  them  than  the  sentence  of  my  bodilj'  df^structioii,  and 
seizure  of  the  poor  estate  my  son  ought  to  enjoy,  being  purcha'«»viJ  and  left  him 
by  his  grandfather.  It  might  have  been  much  better  had  I  not  spent  it  in  the 
service  of  my  honorable  Lord  of  Derby  and  his  family  ;  these  things  I  need  not 
mention  to  you,  for  that  most  of  you  are  witnesses  to  it.  I  shall  now  beg  your 
patience  while  I  tell  you  here,  in  the  presence  of  God,  that  I  never  in  all  my  life 
acted  anything  with  intention  to  prejudice  my  sovereign  lord  the  King,  nor  the 
late  Earl  of  Derby,  nor  the  now  earl ;  yet  notwithstanding,  being  in  England  at 
the  time  of  his  sacred  Majesty's  happy  restoration,  I  went  to  London,  with  many 
others,  to  have  a  sight  of  my  gracious  King,  whom  God  preserve,  and  whom, 
until  then,  I  never  had  seen.  But  I  was  not  long  there  when  I  was  arrested  upon 
an  action  of  twenty  thousand  pounds,  and  clapped  up  in  the  Fleet ;  unto  which 
action  I,  being  a  stranger,  could  give  no  bail,  but  was  there  kept  nearly  a  whole 
year.  How  I  suffered,  God  He  knows  ;  but  at  last,  having  gained  my  liberty,  I 
thought  good  to  advise  with  several  gentlemen  conoerning  his  Majesty's  gracious 
Act  of  Indemnity  that  was  then  set  forth,  in  which  I  thought  myself  concerned  ; 
unto  which  they  told  me  there  was  no  doubt  to  be  made  but  that  all  actions 
committed  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  relating  in  any  kind  to  the  war,  were  pardoned  by 
the  Act  of  Indemnity,  and  all  other  places  within  his  Majesty's  dominions  and 
countries.  Whereupon,  and  having  been  forced  to  absent  myself  from  my  poor 
wife  and  children  near  three  years,  being  all  that  time  under  persecution,  I  did 
with  great  content  and  satisfaction  return  into  this  island,  hoping  then  to  receive 
the  comfort  and  sweet  enjoyment  of  my  friends  and  poor  family.  But  alas  I  I 
have  fallen  into  the  snare  of  the  fowler  ;  but  my  God  shall  ever  be  praised  : 
though  He  kill  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  Him. 

I  may  justly  say  no  man  in  this  island  knows  better  than  myself  the  power  the 
Lord  Derby  hath  in  this  island,  subordinate  to  his  sacred  Majesty,  of  which  I  have 
given  a  full  account  in  my  declaration  presented  to  my  judges,  which  I  much 
fear  will  never  see  light  *  which  is  no  small  trouble  to  me. 

It  was  his  Majestys  most  gracious  Act  of  Indemnity  gave  me  the  confidence 
and  assurance  of  my  safety  ;  on  which,  and  an  appeal  I  made  to  his  sacred  Maj- 
esty and  privy  council,  from  the  unjustness  of  the  proceedings  had  against  me, 
I  did  much  rely,  being  his  Majesty's  subject  here,  and  a  denizen  of  England  both 
by  birth  and  fortune.  And  in  regard  I  have  disobeyed  the  power  of  my  Lord  of 
Derby's  Act  of  Indemnity,  which  you  now  look  upon,  and  his  Majesty's  Act  cast 
out  as  being  of  no  force,  I  have  with  greater  violence  been  persecuted  ;  yet, 
nevertheless,  I  do  declare,  that  no  subject  whatever  can  or  ought  to  take  upon 
them  acts  of  indemnity  but  his  sacred  Majesty  only,  with  the  confirmation  of 
Parliament. 

It  is  very  fit  I  should  say  something  as  to  my  education  and  religion.  I  think 
I  need  not  inform  you,  for  you  all  know,  I  was  brought  up  a  son  of  the  Church  of 
England,  which  was  at  that  time  in  her  splendor  and  glory  ;  and  to  my  endless 
comfort  I  have  ever  since  continued  a  faithful  member,  witness  several  of  my 
actions  in  the  late  times  of  liberty.  And  as  for  government,  I  never  was  against 
monarchy,  which  now,  to  my  soul's  great  satisfaction,  I  have  lived  to  see  is  set- 
tled and  established.  I  am  well  assured  that  men  of  upright  life  and  conversa- 
tion may  have  the  favorable  countenance  of  our  gracious  King,  under  whose 
happy  government  God  of  His  infinite  mercy  long  continue  these  his  kingdoms 
and  dominions.  And  now  I  do  most  heartily  thank  my  good  God  that  I  have  had 
so  much  liberty  and  time  to  disburden  myself  of  several  things  that  have  laid 
heavy  upon  me  all  the  time  of  my  imprisonment,  in  which  I  have  not  had  time  or 
liberty  to  speak  or  write  any  of  my  thoughts  ;  and  from  my  soul  I  wish  all  ani- 
mosity may  after  my  death  be  quite  laid  aside,  and  my  death  by  none  be  called 
in  question,  for  I  do  freely  forgive  all  that  have  had  any  hand  in  my  persecution  ; 
and  may  our  good  God  preserve  you  all  in  peace  and  quiet  the  remamder  of  your 
days  1 

Be  ye  all  of  you  his  Majesty's  liege  people,  loyal  and  faithful  to  his  sacred  Maj- 
esty ;  and,  according  to  your  oath  of  faith  and  fealty  to  my  honorable  Lord  of 
Derby,  do  you  likewise,  in  all  just  and  lawful  ways,  observe  his  commands  ;  and 
know  that  you  must  one  day  give  an  account  of  all  your  deeds.  And  now  the 
blessing  of  Almighty  God  be  with  you  all,  and  preserve  you  from  violent  death, 
and  keep  you  in  peace  of  conscience  all  your  days  ! 

*  The  apprehension  wae  but  too  correct. 


572  APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

I  will  now  hasten,  for  my  flesh  Is  willing  to  be  dissolved,  and  my  spirit  to  be  with 
God,  who  hath  given  me  full  assurance  of  His  mercy  and  pardon  for  all  my  sins, 
of  which  His  unspeakable  goodness  and  loving-kindness  my  poor  soul  is  exceed- 
ingly satisfied. 

Note* — Here  he  fell  upon  his  knees,  and  passed  some  time  in  prayer ;  then  ris- 
ing exceedingly  cheerful,  he  addressed  the  soldiers  appointed  for  his  execution, 
saying—"  Now  for  you,  who  are  appointed  by  lot  my  executioners,  I  do  freely 
forgive  you."  He  requested  them  and  all  present  to  pray  for  him,  adding,  "  There 
is  but  a  thin  veil  betwixt  me  and  death  ;  once  more  I  request  your  prayers,  for 
now  I  take  my  last  farewell." 

The  soldiers  wished  to  bind  him  to  the  spot  on  which  he  stood.  He  said, 
"  Trouble  not  yourselves  or  me  ;  for  I,  that  dare  face  death  in  whatever  form  he 
comes,  will  not  start  at  your  fire  and  bullets  ;  nor  can  the  power  you  have  de- 
prive me  of  my  courage."  At  his  desire  a  piece  of  white  paper  was  given  him, 
which  with  the  utmost  composure  he  pinned  to  his  breast,  to  direct  them  where 
to  aim ;  and  after  a  short  prayer  addressed  the  soldiers  thus—"  Hit  this,  and  you 
do  your  own  and  my  work. "  And  presently  after,  stretching  forth  his  arms,  which 
was  the  signal  he  gave  them,  he  was  shot  through  the  heart  and  fell. 

Edward  Christian,  the  nephew,  and  George,  the  son,  of  the  deceased,  lost  no 
time  in  appealing  to  his  Majesty  in  council  against  this  judicial  murder ;  and 
George  was  furnished  with  an  order  "  to  pass  and  repass,"  etc.,  "  and  bring  with 
him  such  records  and  persons  as  he  should  desire,  to  make  out  the  truth  of  his 
complaint."  Edward  returned  with  him  to  the  island  for  that  purpose  ;  for  we 
find  him,  in  April  1663,  compelled,  in  the  true  spirit  of  the  day,  to  give  bond 
"  that  he  would  at  all  times  appear  and  answer  to  such  charges  as  might  be  pre- 
ferred against  him,  and  not  depart  the  isle  without  license."  George  was  pre- 
vented, by  various  contrivances,  from  serving  the  King's  order  ;  but  on  presenting 
a  second  petition,  the  governor,  deemster,  and  members  of  council  were  brought 
up  to  London  by  a  sergeant-at-arms  ;  and  these  six  persons,  together  with  the 
Earl  of  Derby,  being  compelled  to  appear,  a  full  hearing  took  place  before  the 
King  in  person,  the  Chancellor,  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  Lord  Chief  Baron,  and 
other  members  of  council ;  judgment  was  extended  on  the  5th  August,  and  that 
judgment  was  on  the  14th  of  the  same  month  ordered  "  to  be  printed  in  folio,  in 
such  manner  as  Acts  of  Parliament  are  usually  printed,  and  his  Majesty's  arms 
prefixed." 

This  authentic  document  designates  the  persons  brought  up  as  "  members  of 
the  pretended  court  of  justice  "  ;  declares  "  that  the  Act  of  General  Pardon  and 
Indempnity  did  extend  to  the  Isle  of  Man,  and  ought  to  have  been  taken  notice 
of  by  the  judges  in  that  island,  although  it  had  not  been  pleaded  ;  that  the  court 
refused  to  admit  the  deceased  William  Christian's  plea  of  the.'Act  of  Indempnity," 
etc.  "  Full  restitution  is  ordered  to  be  made  to  his  heirs  of  all  his  estates,  real 
and  personal."  Three  t  other  persons  "  who  were  by  the  same  court  of  justice 
imprisoned,  and  their  estates  seized  and  confiscated  without  any  legal  trial,"  are 
ordered,  together  with  the  Christians,  "  to  be  restored  to  all  their  estates,  real 
and  personal,  and  to  be  fully  repaired  in  all  the  charges  and  expences  which  they 
have  been  at  since  their  first  imprisonment,  as  well  in  the  prosecution  of  this 
business,  or  in  their  journey  hither,  or  in  any  other  way  thereunto  relating." 
The  mode  of  raising  funds  for  the  purposes  of  this  restitution  is  equally  peculiar 
and  instructive;  these  "sums  of  money  are  ordered  to  be  furnished  by  the 
deemsters,  members,  and  assistants  of  the  said  Court  of  Justice,"  who  are  directed 
"  to  raise  and  make  due  payment  thereof  to  the  parties." 

"  And  to  the  end  that  the  blood  that  has  been  unjustly  spilt  may  in  some  sort 
rbe  expiated,"  etc.,  the  deemsters  are  ordered  to  "be  committed  to  the  King's 
'Bench,  to  be  proceeded  against,  etc.  etc.,  and  receive  condign  punishment."  .  (It 
Is  believed  that  this  part  of  the  order  was  afterwards  relaxed  or  rendered  nuga- 
tory.) The  three  members  of  council  were  released  on  giving  security  to  appear. 
If  required,  and  to  make  the  restitution  ordered.  "  And  in  regard  that  Edward 
Christian,  being  one  of  the  deemsters  or  judges  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  did,  when  the 
court  refused  to  admit  of  the  deceased  W.  Christian's  plea  of  the  Act  of  Indem- 
nity, make  his  protestation  against  their  illegal  proceedings,  and  did  withdraw 
himself,  and  come  to  England  to  solicit  his  Majesty  and  implore  his  justice,  it  is 
ordered  that  the  Earl  of  Derby  do  forthwith,  by  commission,  etc.,  restore  and 
appoint  him  as  deemster,  so  to  remain  and  continue,"  etc. — which  order  was 
disobeyed.  And  lastly,  that  "  Henry  Nowell,  deputy-governor,  whose  fault  hath 
been  the  not  complying  with,  and  yielding  due  obedience  to,  the  orders  §  of  his 

*  This  note  Is  annexed  to  all  the  copies  of  this  speech. 

t  Ewan  Curphey  [Curghey],  Samuel  RatclifEe,  and  John  Ceesar,  men  of  consid- 
erable landed  property. 
{  Tradition,  in  accordance  with  the  dirge  of  William  Dh6ne,  says  that  the  order 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION  573 

Majesty  and  this  board  sent  into  the  island  (O  most  lame  and  impotent  conclu- 
sion 1),  be  permitted  to  return  "  to  the  isle,  and  enforce  the  present  order  of  the 
King  in  council. 

Of  the  Earl  of  Derby  no  farther  mention  occurs  in  this  document.  The  sacri- 
fices made  by  this  noble  family  in  support  of  the  Royal  cause  drew  a  large  share 
of  indulgence  over  the  exceptionable  parts  of  their  conduct ;  but  the  mortifica- 
tion necessarily  consequent  on  this  appeal,  the  incessant  complaints  of  the  people, 
and  the  difficulty  subsequently  experienced  by  them  in  obtaining  access  to  a 
superior  tribunal,  receive  a  curious  illustration  in  an  order  of  the  King  in  coun- 
cil, dated  20th  August  1670,  on  a  petition  of  the  Earl  of  Derby,  "  that  the  clerk  of 
the  council  in  waiting  receive  no  petition,  appeal,  or  complaint  against  the  lord 
or  government  of  the  Isle  of  Man  without  having  first  good  security  from  the 
complainant  to  answer  costs,  damages,  and  charges." 

The  historical  notices  of  this  kingdom  *  of  Lilliput  are  curious  and  instructive 
with  reference  to  other  times  and  different  circumstances,  and  they  have  seemed 
to  require  little  comment  or  antiquarian  remark  ;  but  to  condense  what  may  be 
collected  with  regard  to  Edward  Christian,  the  accomplished  villain  of  Peveril, 
the  insinuations  of  his  accuser  t  constitute  in  themselves  an  abundant  defense. 
When  so  little  can  be  imputed  by  such  an  adversary,  the  character  must  indeed 
be  invulnei'able.  Tradition  ascribes  to  him  nothing  but  what  is  amiable,  patriotic, 
honorable,  and  good,  in  all  the  relations  of  public  and  private  life.  He  died,  after 
an  imprisonment  of  seven  or  eight  years,  the  victim  of  incorrigible  obstinacy, 
according  to  one,  of  ruthless  tyranny,  according  to  another,  vocabulary ;  but 
resembling  the  character  of  the  novel  in  nothing  but  unconquerable  courage. 

Treachery  and  ingratitude  have  been  heaped  on  the  memory  of  William  Chris- 
tian with  sufficient  profusion.  Regarding  the  first  of  these  crimes— if  all  that 
has  been  affirmed  or  insinuated  in  the  mock  trial  rested  on  a  less  questionable 
basis,  posterity  would  scarcely  pronounce  an  unanimous  verdict  of  moral  and 

golitical  guilt  against  an  association  to  subvert  such  a  government  as  is  described 
y  its  own  author.  The  peculiar  favors  for  which  he  or  his  family  were  ungrate- 
ful are  not  to  be  discovered  in  these  proceedings  ;  except,  indeed,  in  the  form  of 
"  chastisements  of  the  Almighty— blessings  in  disguise."  But  if  credit  be  given 
to  the  dying  words  of  William  Christian,  his  efforts  were  strictly  limited  to  a 
redress  of  grievances— a  purpose  always  criminal  in  the  eye  of  the  oppressor.  If 
he  had  lived  and  died  on  a  larger  scene,  his  memory  would  probably  have  sur- 
vived among  the  patriots  and  the  heroes.  In  some  of  the  manuscript  narratives 
he  is  designated  as  a  martyr  for  the  rights  and  liberties  of  his  countrymen  ;  who 
add,  in  their  homely  manner,  that  he  was  condemned  without  trial  and  mur- 
dered without  remorse. 

We  have  purposely  abstained  from  all  attempt  to  enlist  the  passions  in  favor 
of  the  sufferings  of  a  people,  or  in  detestation  of  oppressions,  which  ought,  per- 
haps, to  be  ascribed  as  much  to  the  character  of  the  times  as  to  that  of  individ- 
uals. The  naked  facts  of  the  case,  unaided  by  the  wild  and  plaintive  notes  in 
which  the  maidens  of  the  isle  were  wont  to  bewail  "  the  §  heart-rending  death  of 
fair-haired  William,"  are  sufficient  of  themselves  to  awaken  the  sympathy  of 
every  generous  mind  ;  and  it  were  a  more  worthy  exercise  of  that  despotic  power 
over  the  imagination,  so  eminently  possessed  by  the  Great  Unknown,  to  embalm 
the  remembrance  of  two  such  men  in  his  immortal  pages,  than  to  load  their 
memories  with  crimes  such  as  no  human  being  ever  committed. 


I  am  enabled  to  add  the  translation  of  the  lament  over  the  fair-haired  William 
Christian.  It  is  originally  composed  in  the  Manx  language,  and  consists  of  a 
series  of  imprecations  of  evil  upon  the  enemies  of  Christian,  and  prophecies  to 
the  same  purpose  :— 

On  the  Death  and  Murder  of  Receiver-General  William  Christian  of 

RONALDSWAY,   WHO    WAS  SHOT  NEAR  HANGO  HiLL.   JANUARY  2,   1662 

In  so  shifting  a  scene,  who  would  confidence  place 
In  family,  youth,  power,  or  personal  grace  ? 
No  character's  proof  against  enmity  foul ; 
And  thy  fate,  Illiam  Dhone,  sickens  my  ^oul. 

to  stop  proceedings  and  suspend  the  sentence  arrived  on  the  day  preceding  that 
of  his  execution. 

*  Earl  James,  although  studious  of  kingcraft,  assigns  good  reasons  for  having 
never  pretended  to  assume  that  title,  and  among  others,  "Nor  doth  it  please  a 
king  that  any  of  his  subjects  should  too  much  love  that  name,  were  it  but  to  act 
it  in  a  play."— Peck,  p.  436, 

+  Peck,  passim. 

S  The  literal  translation  given  to  me  by  a  young  lady. 


574  APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

You  are  Derby's  receiver  of  patriot  zeal, 
Replete  with  good  sense,  and  reputed  genteel, 
Your  justice  applauded  by  the  young  and  the  old ; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

A  kind,  able  patron  both  to  church  and  to  state— 
What  roused  their  resentment  but  talents  so  great  f 
No  character's  proof  against  enmity  foul ; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

Thy  pardon,  'tis  rumor'd,  came  over  the  main. 
Nor  late,  but  conceal'd  by  a  villain  *  in  grain  ; 
*Twas  fear  forced  the  jury  to  a  sentence  so  foul ; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

Triumphant  stood  Calcott,  he  wish'd  for  no  more, 
When  the  pride  of  the  Christians  lay  welt'ring  in  gora, 
To  malice  a  victim,  though  steady  and  bold  ; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

With  adultery  stain'd,  and  polluted  with  gore. 
He  Ronaldsway  eyed,  as  Lough  Molly  before, 
'Twas  land  sought  the  culprit,  like  Ahab  of  old ; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

Proceed  to  the  once  famed  abode  of  the  nuns,  t 
Call  the  Calcotts  aloud,  till  you  torture  your  lungs. 
Their  short  triumph's  ended,  extinct  are  the  whole ; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

For  years  cruel  Robert  lay  crippled  in  bed. 
Nor  knew  the  world  peace  while  he  held  up  his  head, 
The  neighborhood's  scourge  in  iniquity  old  ; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

Not  one's  heard  to  grieve,  seek  the  country  all  through. 
Nor  lament  for  the  name  that  Bemaccan  §  once  knew ; 
The  poor  rather  load  it  with  curses  untold  ; 
And  thy  fate.  etc. 

Ba^alough  and  the  Creggans  mark  strongly  their  sin. 
Not  a  soul  of  the  name's  there  to  welcome  you  in ; 
In  the  power  of  the  strangers  is  entered  the  whole  ; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

The  opulent  Scarlet,    on  which  the  sea  flows. 
Is  piecemeal  disposed  of  to  whom  the  Lord  knows. 
Its  heirs  without  bread  or  defense  from  the  cold  ; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

They  assert  them  in  vain,  that  the  law  sought  thy  blood. 
For  all  aiding  the  massacre  never  did  good  ; 
Like  the  rooted-up  golding  deprived  of  its  mold, 
They  languish'd,  were  blasted,  grew  rotten  and  cold. 

When  the  shoots  of  a  tree  so  corrupted  remain. 
Like  the  brier  or  thistle,  they  goad  us  with  pain ; 
Deep,  dark,  undermining,  they  mimic  the  mole  ; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 


♦  A  person  named  in  the  next  stanza  is  said  to  have  intercepted  a  pardon  sent 
from  England  for  William  Christian,  found,  it  is  said,  in  the  foot  of  an  old  woman's 
stocking.  The  tradition  is  highly  improbable.  If  Christian  had  been  executed 
against  the  tenor  of  a  pardon  actually  granted,  it  would  not  have  failed  to  be 
charged  as  a  high  aggravation  in  the  subsequent  proceedings  of  the  privy  council 

t  [The  Calcott  family  owned  the  Nunnery  house  or  estate.] 


nThat  is,  Tyldesley  of  the  Friary.] 
Norris  of  Scarlet.] 


APPEJStDtCES  TO  iNTnoDTWTtO]^  575 

Round  the  infamous  wretches  who  spilt  Caesar's  [Christian's]  blood, 
Dead  specters  and  conscience  in  sad  array  stood, 
Not  a  man  of  the  gang  [whole]  reach'd  life's  utmost  goal ; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

Perdition,  too,  seized  them  who  caused  tliee  to  bleed ; 
To  decay  fell  their  houses  ;  their  lands  and  their  seed 
Disappear' d  like  the  vapor  when  morn's  flushed  with  gold ; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

From  grief  all  corroding  to  hope  I'll  repair, 
That  a  branch  of  the  Christians  will  soon  grace  the  chair, 
With  royal  instructions  his  foes  to  control ; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

With  a  rock  for  my  pillow,  I  dreamt  as  I  lay, 
That  a  branch  of  the  Christians  would  hold  Ronaldsway ; 
His  conquest  his  topic  with  friends  o'er  a  bowl ; 
And  thy  fate,  etc. 

And  now  for  a  wish  at  concluding  my  song,— 

May  th'  Almighty  withhold  us  from  doing  what's  wrong ; 

Protect  every  mortal  from  enmity  foul, 

For  thy  fate,  Illiam  Dhone,  sickens  my  soul  I  ♦ 


No  II. 


At  the  Court  at  Whitehall, 
the  5th  August  1663. 


Gkorgk  Christian,  son  and  heir  of  William  Christian,  deceased,  having  exhibited 
his  complaint  to  his  Majesty  in  council,  that  his  father,  being  at  a  house  of  his  in 
his  Majesty's  Isle  of  Man,  was  imprisoned  by  certain  persons  of  that  island,  pre- 
tending themselves  to  [be]  a  court  of  justice ;  that  he  was  by  them  accused  of 
high  treason,  pretended  to  be  committed  against  the  Countess  Dowager  of  Derby 
in  the  year  1651 ;  and  that  they  thereupon  proceeded  to  judgment,  and  caused 
him  to  be  put  to  death,  notwithstanding  the  Act  of  General  Pardon  and  Indemp- 
nity,  whereof  he  claimed  the  benefit ;  and  his  appeal  to  his  Majesty,  and  humbly 
imploring  his  Majesty's  princely  compassion  towards  the  distressed  widow  and 
seven  fatherless  children  of  the  deceased  :  His  Majesty  was  graciously  pleased, 
with  the  advice  of  his  council,  to  order  that  Thomas  Norris  and  Hugh  Cannell, 
the  two  judges  (by  them  in  that  island  called  deemsters),  and  Richard  Stevenson, 
Robert  Calcott,  and  Richard  Tildesley,  three  of  the  members  of  the  pretended 
court  of  justice,  and  Henry  Nowell,  deputy-governor  of  the  said  island,  should  be 
forthwith  sent  for  and  brought  up  by  a  sergeant-at-arms  here,  before  his  Majesty 
in  council,  to  appear  and  answer  to  such  accusations  as  should  be  exhibited 
against  them  ;  which  said  six  persons  being  accordingly  brought  hither,  I  the  fif- 
teenth day  of  July  last  appointed  for  a  full  hearing  of  the  whole  business,  the 
Earl  of  Derby  then  also  summoned  to  appear,  and  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  of  the 
King's  Bench,  and  the  Lord  Chief  Baron  of  his  Majesty's  Exchequer,  with  the 
King's  council,  learned  in  the  laws,  required  to  be  present,  and  all  the  parties 
called  in  with  their  counsel  and  witnesses,  after  full  hearing  of  the  whole  matter 
on  both  sides,  and  the  parties  withdrawn,  the  said  judges  being  desired  to  de- 
liver their  opinion,  did,  in  presence  of  the  King's  council,  learned  in  the  laws, 
declare  that  the  Act  of  General  Pardon  and  Indempnity  did,  and  ought  to  be  un- 
derstood to,  extend  to  the  Isle  of  Man,  as  well  as  into  any  other  of  his  Majesty's 
dominions  and  plantations  beyond  the  seas  ;  and  that,  being  a  publique  General 
Act  of  Parliament,  it  ought  to  have  been  taken  notice  of  by  the  judges  in  the  Isle 
of  Man,  although  it  had  not  been  pleaded,  and  although  there  were  no  proclama- 
tion made  thereof.  His  Majesty,  being  therefore  deeply  sensible  of  this  violation 
of  his  Act  of  General  Pardon,  whereof  his  Majesty  hath  always  been  very  tender, 
and  doth  expect  and  require  that  all  his  subjects  in  all  his  dominions  and  planta 

*  It  may  be  recollected  that  these  verses  are  given  through  the  medium  of  a 
meager  translation,  and  are  deprived  of  the  aid  of  the  music,  otherwise  we  should 
certainly  think  the  memory  of  William  Dhdne  little  honored  by  his  native  bard. 


576  APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTtOHf 

tions  shall  enjoy  the  full  benefit  and  advantage  of  the  same,  and  having  this  da\ 
taken  this  business  into  further  consideration,  and  all  parties  called  in  and  heard, 
did,  by  and  with  the  advice  of  the  council,  order,  and  it  is  hereby  ordered,  that 
all  persons  any  way  concerned  in  the  seizure  of  the  estate  of  the  said  William 
Christian,  deceased,  or  instrumental  in  the  ejection  of  the  widow  and  children 
out  of  their  houses  and  fortune,  do  take  care  that  intire  restitution  be  made  of 
all  the  said  estate,  as  well  real  as  personal,  as  also  all  damages  sustained,  with 
full  satisfaction  for  all  profits  by  them  received  since  the  said  estate  hath  been  in 
their  hands  ;  and  that,  whereas  the  said  William  Christian,  deceased,  was  one  of 
the  two  lives  remaining  in  an  estate  in  Lancashire,  that  the  detriment  accrewing 
by  the  untimely  death  of  the  said  William  Christian  therein,  or  in  like  cases,  shall 
be  estimated,  and  in  like  manner  fully  repaired.  That  in  regard  of  the  great 
trouble  and  charges  the  complainants  have  been  at  in  pursuit  of  this  business, 
ordered  that  they  do  exhibit  to  this  board  a  true  accompt,  upon  oath,  of  all  ex- 
pences  and  damages  by  them  sustained  in  the  journies  of  themselves  and  wit- 
nesses, and  of  all  other  their  charges  in  the  following  of  this  business. 

And  whereas  Ewan  Curghey,  Samuel  Radcliflf,  and  John  Cesar  were  by  the 
same  court  of  justice  imprisoned,  and  had  their  estates  seized  and  confiscated 
without  any  legal  trial,  it  is  ordered  that  the  said  Ewan  Curghey,  Samuel  Rad- 
cliflfe,  and  John  Cesar  be  likewise  restored  to  all  their  estates,  real  and  personal, 
and  fully  repaired  in  all  the  charges  and  expences  which  they  have  been  at  since 
their  first  imprisonment,  as  well  in  the  prosecution  of  this  business,  or  in  their 
journey  thither,  or  in  any  other  way  whatsoever  thereunto  relating  ;  the  which 
satisfaction,  expences,  and  all  other  sums  of  money  to  be  raised  by  virtue  of  this 
order,  are  to  be  furnished  by  the  deemsters,  members,  and  assistants  of  the  said 
court  of  justice,  who  are  hereby  ordered  to  raise  all  such  the  said  sums,  and 
thereof  to  make  due  payment,  and  give  full  satisfaction  unto  the  parties  hereby 
appointed  to  receive  it. 

And  to  the  end  the  guilt  of  blood  which  h?,r  l  been  unjustly  spilt  may  in  some 
sort  be  expiated,  and  his  Majesty  receive  sen  a  kind  of  satisfaction  for  the  un- 
timely loss  of  a  subject,  it  is  ordered  that  tn«  said  Thomas  Norris  and  Hugh  Can- 
nell,  who  decreed  this  violent  death,  be  comr  iltted  and  remain  prisoners  in  the 
King's  Bench,  to  be  proceeded  against  in  the  ordinary  course  of  justice,  so  to  re- 
ceive condign  punishment  according  to  the  i  <erit  of  so  heinous  a  fact. 

That  Richard  Stevenson,  Robert  Calco<-t,  a  id  Richard  Tildesley  be  discharged 
from  farther  restraint,  giving  good  security  '-.o  appear  at  this  board  whensoever 
summoned,  and  not  depart  this  city  until  ful  satisfaction  shall  be  given,  and  all 
orders  of  thiS  board  whatsoever  relating  to  ;his  business  fully  executed  in  the 
island.  And  in  regard  that,  upon  the  examinj  tion  of  this  business,  it  doth  appear 
that  Edward  Christian,  being  one  of  the  deen  sters  or  judges  in  the  Isle  of  Mann, 
did,  when  the  court  refused  to  admit  of  the  d  ^ceased  William  Christian's  plea  of 
the  Act  of  Indempnity,  make  his  protestation  against  their  illegal  proceedings, 
and  did  withdraw  himself,  and  come  irto  Engli«nd  to  sollicite  his  Majesty,  and  im- 
plore his  justice,  it  is  ordered  that  the  Earl  )t  Derby  do  forthwith,  by  commis- 
sion, in  due  and  accustomed  manner,  reston^,  constitute,  and  appoint  the  said 
Edward  Christian  one  of  the  deemsters  or  judges  of  the  said  island,  so  to  remain 
and  continue  in  the  due  execution  of  the  said  place. 

And  lastly,  it  is  ordered  that  the  said  Henry  Nowell,  deputy-governor,  whose 
fault  hath  been  the  not  complying  with,  and  yielding  due  obedience  to,  the  orders 
of  His  Majesty  and  this  board,'sent  into  the  island,  giving  good  security  to  appear 
at  this  board  whensoever  summoned,  be  forthwith  discharged  from  all  further 
restraint,  and  permitted  to  return  into  the  island  ;  and  he  is  hereby  strictly  com- 
manded to  imploy  the  power  and  authority  which  by  virtue  of  his  commission  he 
hath  in  that  island,  in  performance  of,  and  obedience  to,  all  commands  and  orders 
of  his  Majesty  and  this  board  in  this  whole  business,  or  any  way  relating  there- 
unto. 

(Signed  by) 

Lord  Chancellor,  Earl  op  Carbery. 

Lord  Treasurer.  Lord  Bishop  op  London. 

Lord  Privy  Seal.  Lord  Wentworth. 

Duke  op  Albemarle.  Lord  Berkeley. 

Lord  Chamberlain.  Lord  Ashley. 

Earl  op  Berkshire.  Sir  William  Compton. 

Earl  op  St.  Alban.  Mr.  Treasurer. 

Earl  op  Anglesey.  Mr.  Vice-Chamberlain. 

Earl  op  Sandwich.  Mr.  Secretary  Moricb. 

Earl  op  Bath.  Mr.  Secretary  Bennett. 


Earl  op  Middleton. 


Richard  Browne, 

Clerk  of  the  Council. 


APPENDICES  TO  INTEODUCTJON  677 

No.  III. 

At  the  Court  at  WniTEHAiiL, 
August  14th,  1668. 

Present. 

The  Kino's  Most  Excellent  Majesty. 

Lord  Chancellor.  Earl  of  Middleton. 

Lord  Tbkasurer.  Earl  op  Carbkry. 

Lord  Privy  Seal.  Lord  Bishop  of  London. 

Duke  op  Buckingham.  Lord  Wentworth. 

Duke  of  Albemarle.  Lord  Berkeley. 

Lord  Chamberlain.  Lord  Ashley. 

Earl  of  Berkshire.  Sir  William  Compton. 

Earl  of  St.  Alban.  Mr.  Treasurer. 

Earl  of  Sandwich.  Mr.  Vice-Chamberlain. 

Earl  of  Anglesey.  Mr.  Secretary  Morice. 

Earl  of  Bath.  Mr.  Secretary  Bennett. 

To  the  end  the  world  may  the  better  take  notice  of  his  Majesty's  royal  inten- 
tion to  observe  the  Act  or  Indempnity  and  General  Pardon  inviolably  for  the 
publique  good  and  satisfaction  of  all  his  subjects,  it  was  this  day  ordered  that  a 
copy  of  the  order  of  this  board  of  the  5th  inst.,  touching  the  illegal  proceedings 
in  the  Isle  of  Man  against  William  Christian,  and  putting  him  to  death  contrary 
to  the  said  Act  of  General  Pardon,  be  sent  unto  his  Majesty's  printer,  who  is 
commanded  forthwith  to  print  the  same  in  the  English  letter,  in  folio,  in  such 
manner  as  Acts  of  Parliament  are  usually  printed,  and  his  Majesty's  arms  pre- 
fixed. 

Richard  Browns. 

S7 


NOTES  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 


Note  1. — Old  Century  White,  p.  27 

This  was  a  name  given  to  John  White,  a  Nonconformist  lawyer,  the  author 
of  a  work  which  Anthony  Wood  calls  "  an  infamous  libel,"  entitled  The  First 
Century  of  Scandalous,  Malignant  Priests,  made  and  admitted  into  Benefice!^ 
by  the  Prelates,  etc.  (Lond.  1643,  4to.)  It  is  said  his  own  brethren  did  persuade 
mm  "  from  putting  out  a  Second  Century,  for  fear  it  should  prove  scandalous," 
etc.  He  died  in  1644-45,  and  was  buried  in  the  Temple  Church,  and  on  a  marble 
stone  were  these  two  verses- 
Here  lyeth  a  John,  a  burning  shining  light ; 
His  name,  life,  actions,  were  all  White. 

{Lafng.) 

Note  2.— Cavaliers  and  Roundheads,  p.  40 

The  attempt  to  contrast  the  manners  of  the  jovial  Cavaliers  and  enthusiastic, 
yet  firm  and  courageous,  Puritans  was  partly  taken  from  a  hint  of  Shadwell, 
who  sketched  several  scenes  of  humor  with  great  force,  although  they  hung 
heavy  on  his  pencil  when  he  attempted  to  finish  them  for  the  stage. 

In  a  dull  play  named  The  Volunteers,  or  The  Stock-jobbers,  the  dramatis  per- 
sonoe,  present  '"'  Major-General  Blunt,  an  old  Cavalier  officer,  somewhat  rough  in 
speech,  but  very  brave  and  honest,  and  of  good  understanding,  and  a  good 
patriot."  A  contrast  to  the  general  is  "  Colonel  Hackwell,  senior,  an  old  Ana- 
baptist colonel  of  Cromwell's,  very  stout  and  godly,  but  somewhat  immoral." 

These  worthies,  so  characterized,  hold  a  dialogue  together,  which  will  form  a 
good  example  of  Shad  well's  power  of  dramatizing.  The  stage  is  filled  by  Major- 
General  Blunt  and  some  of  his  old  acquaintance  Cavaliers,  and  Hackwell,  the 
ancient  Parliamentarian. 

Major-General  Blunt.  Fear  not,  my  old  Cavaliers.  According  to  your  lauda- 
ble customs,  you  shall  be  drunk,  swagger,  and  fight  over  all  your  battles,  from 
Edgehill  to  Brentford.  You  have  not  forgotten  how  this  gentleman  (points  to 
Colonel  Hackwell)  and  his  demure  psalm-singing  fellows  used  to  drub  us  ? 

1st  Cavalier.    No,  'gad  !    I  felt  'em  once  to  purpose. 

M.-G.  Blunt.  Ah  !  a-dod,  in  high-crowned  hats,  collared  bands,  great  loose 
coats,  long  tucks  under  'em,  and  calves-leather  boots  ;  they  used  to  sing  a  psalm, 
fall  on,  and  beat  us  to  the  devil  I 

Hackwell,  senior.  In  that  day  we  stood  up  to  the  cause  ;  and  the  cause,  the 
spiritual  cause,  did  not  suffer  under  our  carnal  weapons,  but  the  enemy  was  dis- 
comfited, and  lo  !  they  used  to  flee  before  us. 

1st  Cavalier.  Who  would  think  such  a  sniveling,  psalm-singing  puppy  would 
fight  ?    But  these  godly  fellows  would  lay  about  'em  as  if  the  devil  were  in  'em. 

Sir  Nicholas.  What  a  filthy,  slovenly  army  was  this  I  I  warrant  you  not  a 
well-dressed  man  among  the  Roundheads. 

M.-G.  Blunt.  But  these  plain  fellows  would  so  thrash  your  swearing,  drinking, 
fine  fellows  in  laced  coats— just  such  as  you  of  the  drawing-room  and  Locket's 
fellows  are  now— and  so  strip  them,  by  the  Lord  Harry,  that  after  a  battle  those 
saints  looked  like  the  Israelites  loaden  with  the  Egyptian  baggage. 

Hackwell.  Verily,  we  did  take  the  spoil  and  it  served  us  to  turn  the  penny, 
and  advanced  the  cause  thereby ;  we  fought  upon  a  principle  that  carried  us 
through. 

M.-G.  Blunt.  Prithee,  colonel,  we  know  thy  principle— 'twas  not  right:  thou 
foughtest  against  children's  baptism,  and  not  for  liberty,  but  who  should  be 
your  tyrant  ;  none  so  zealous  for  Cromwell  as  thou  wert  then,  nor  such  a  furi- 
ous agitator  and  test-man  as  thou  hast  been  lately. 

678 


NOTES  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  579 

Hackwell,  senior.  Looklyou,  colonel,  we  but  proceeded  in  the  way  of  liberty  of 
worship. 

M.-Q.  Blunt.  A-dod,  there  is  something  more  in  it.  This  was  thy  principle, 
colonel— Dominion  is  founded  in  grace,  and  the  righteous  shall  inherit  the  earth. 
And,  by  the  Lord  Harry,  thou  didst  so  ;  thou  gotteet  three  thousand  pound  a- 
year  by  fighting  against  the  court,  and  I  lost  a  thousand  by  fighting  for  it.— See 
Shadwell's  Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  437. 

In  a  former  scene,  Hackwell,  the  old  fanatic  officer,  conceiving  himself  offended 
by  one  of  the  dramatis  personce,  says,  with  great  naivet6—"  I  prithee,  friend, 
put  me  not  to  use  the  carnal  weapon  in  my  own  defence."  Such  are  the  traits 
of  phraseology  with  which  Shadwell  painted  the  oJd  Puritan  officers,  many  of 
whom  he — no  mean  observer  of  human  nature— must  have  known  familiarly. 

Note  3. — Concealment  of  the  Countess  op  Derby,  p.  43 

The  concealment  and  discovery  of  the  Countess  of  Derby  is  taken  from  a  pic- 
turesq^ue  account  of  a  similar  event,  described  to  me  by  the  person  by  whom  it 
was  witnessed  in  childhood.  This  lady,  by  name  Mrs.  Margaret  Swinton,  and  a 
daughter  of  that  ancient  house,  was  a  sister  of  my  maternal  grandmother,  and 
of  course  my  grand-aunt.  She  was,  as  often  happens  on  such  occasions,  our 
constant  resource  in  sickness,  or  when  we  tired  of  noisy  play,  and  closed  around 
her  to  listen  to  her  tales.  As  she  might  be  supposed  to  look  back  to  the  begin- 
ning of  the  last  [18th]  century,  the  fund  which  supplied  us  with  amusement 
often  related  to  events  of  that  period.  I  may  here  notice  that  she  told  me  the 
unhappy  story  of  the  Bride  of  Lammermoor,  being  nearly  related  to  the  Lord 
President,  whose  daughter  was  the  heroine  of  that  melancholy  tragedy.! 

The  present  tale,  though  of  a  different  character,  was  also  sufficiently  striking, 
when  told  by  an  eyewitness.  Aunt  Margaret  was,  I  suppose,  seven  or  eight 
years  old  when  residing  in  the  old  mansion-house  of  Swinton,  and  already  dis- 
played the  firmness  and  sagacity  which  distinguished  her  through  life.  Being 
one  of  a  large  family,  she  was,  owing  to  slight  indisposition,  left  at  home  one 
day  when  the  rest  of  the  family  went  to  church  with  Sir  John  and  Lady  Swinton, 
their  parents.  Before  leaving  the  little  invalid,  she  was  strictly  enjoined  not  to 
go  into  the  parlor  where  the  elder  party  had  breakfasted.  But  when  she  found 
herself  alone  in  the  upper  part  of  the  house,  the  spirit  of  her  great  ancestress 
Eve  took  possession  of  my  aunt  Margaret,  and  forth  she  went  to  examine  the 
parlor  in  question.  She  was  struck  with  admiration  and  fear  at  what  she  saw 
there.  A  lady,  "  beautiful  exceedingly,"  was  seated  by  the  breakfast-table,  and 
employed  in  washing  the  dishes  which  had  been  used.  Little  Margaret  would 
have  had  no  doubt  in  accounting  this  singular  vision  an  emanation  from  the 
angelical  world,  but  for  her  employment,  which  she  could  not  so  easily  reconcile 
to  her  ideas  of  angels. 

The  lady,  with  great  presence  of  mind,  called  the  astonished  child  to  her, 
fondled  her  with  much  tenderness,  and  judiciously  avoiding  to  render  the  neces- 
sity of  secrecy  too  severe,  she  told  the  girl  she  must  not  let  any  one  except  her 
mother  know  that  she  had  seen  her.  Having  allowed  this  escape-valve  for  the 
benefit  of  her  curiosity  the  mysterious  stranger  desired  the  little  girl  to  look 
from  the  window  of  the  parlor  to  see  if  her  mother  was  returning  from  church. 
When  she  turned  her  head  again,  the  fair  vision  had  vanished,  but  by  what 
means  Miss  Margaret  was  unable  to  form  a  conjecture. 

Long  watched,  and  eagerly  wished  for,  the  Lady  Swintom  at  last  returned 
from  church,  and  her  daughter  lost  no  time  in  telling  her  extraordinary  tale. 
"You  are  a  very  sensible  girl,  Peggy,"  answered  her  mother,  "for  if  you  had 
spoken  of  that  poor  lady  to  any  one  but  me,  it  might  have  cost  her  her  life. 
But  now  I  will  not  be  afraid  of  trusting  you  with  any  secret,  and  I  will  show 
you  where  the  poor  lady  lives."  In  fact  she  introduced  her  to  a  concealed  apart- 
ment opening  by  a  sliding  panel  from  the  parlor,  and  showed  her  the  lady  in  the 
hiding-place  which  she  inhabited.  It  may  be  said,  in  passing,  that  there  were 
few  Scottish  houses  belonging  to  families  of  rank  which  had  not  such  contriv- 
ances, the  political  incidents  of  the  times  often  calling  them  into  occupation. 

The  history  of  the  lady  of  the  closet  was  both  melancholy  and  bloody,  and 
though  I  have  seen  various  accounts  of  the  story,  I  do  not  pretend  to  distinguish 
the  right  edition.  She  was  a  young  woman  of  extreme  beauty,  who  had  been 
married  to  an  old  man,  a  writer,  named  MacFarlane.  Her  situation,  and  per- 
haps her  manners,  gave  courage  to  some  who  desired  to  be  accounted  her  suitors. 
Among  them  was  a  young  Englishman,  named  Cayley,  who  was  a  commissioner 
of  Government  upon  the  estates  forfeited  in  the  rebellion  of  1715.  In  1716,  Mr. 
Cayley  visited  this  lady  in  her  lodgings,  when  they  quarreled,  either  on  account 
of  'his  having  offered  her  some  violence,  or,  as  another  account  said,  because 
she  reproached  him  with  having  boasted  of  former  favors.  It  ended  in  her 
seizing  upon  a  pair  of  pistols  which  lay  loaded  in  a  closet,  her  husband  intend- 


580  NOTES  TO  PEVEIUL  OF  THE  FEAK 

ing  to  take  them  with  him  on  a  journey.  The  gallant  commissioner  approached 
with  an  air  of  drollery,  saying,  "  What,  madam,  do  you  intend  to  perform  a 
comedy?"  "You  shall  find  it  a  tragedy,"  answered  the  lady;  and  fired  both 
pistols,  by  which  Commissioner  Cayley  fell  dead. 

She  fled,  and  remained  concealed  for  a  certain  time.  Her  claim  of  refuge  in 
Swinton  House,  I  do  not  know  ;  it  arose  probably  from  some  of  the  indescribable 
genealogical  filaments  which  connect  Scottish  families.  A  very  small  cause 
would  even  at  any  time  have  been  a  reason  for  interfering  between  an  individual 
and  the  law. 

Whatever  were  the  circumstances  of  Mrs.  MacFarlane's  case,  it  is  certain  that 
she  returned,  and  lived  and  died  in  Edinburgh,  without  being  brought  to  trial. 
Indeed,  considering  the  times,  there  was  no  great  wonder ;  for,  to  one  strong 
party,  the  death  of  an  English  commissioner  was  not  a  circumstance  to  require 
mucn  apology.    The  Swintons,  however.  Could  not  be  of  that  opinion,  the  family 


being  of  Presbyterian  and  Whig  principles. 

John  Cayley  was  not,  as  above  mentioned,  a  commissioner  of  the  forfeited 
estates,  but  one  of  the  Commissioners  of  Customs.  Various  papers  and  verses 
relating  to  his  murder  by  Mrs.  Mackfarlain,  28th  September  1716,  are  collected 
in  the  Appendix  to  a  curious  volume  of  Scottish  Elegiac  Verses,  1629-1729,  edited 
by  James  Maidment,  Edinburgh,  1842.  These,  however,  leave  the  whole  matter 
in  a  very  uncertain  state  as  to  the  immediate  cause  which  led  to  this  tragedy 
(Laing). 

Note  4.— Trial  and  Execution  op  Christian,  p.  53 

The  reader  will  find,  in  an  Appendix  to  the  Introduction,  an  account  of  this 
tragedy,  as  related  by  one  who  may  be  said  to  favor  the  sufferer.  It  must  be 
admitted,  on  the  other  hand,  that  Captain  Christian's  trial  and  execution  were 
conducted  according  to  the  laws  of  the  island.  He  was  tried  in  all  due  form  by 
the  Dempster,  or  chief  .iudge,  then  named  Norris,  the  keys  of  the  island,  and 
other  constituted  authorities,  making  what  is  called  a  Tinwald  court.  This 
word,  yet  retained  in  many  parts  of  Scotland,  signifies  vallis  negotii,  and  is  ap- 
plied to  those  artificial  mounds  which  were  in  ancient  times  assigned  to  the 
meeting  of  the  inhabitants  for  holding  their  comitia.  It  was  pleaded  that  the 
articles  of  accusation  against  Christian  were  found  fully  relevant,  and  as  he  re- 
fused to  plead  at  the  bar,  that  he  was,  according  to  the  laws  of  Man,  most  justly 
sentenced  to  death.  It  was  also  stated  that  full  time  was  left  for  appeal  to 
England,  as  he  was  apprehended  about  the  end  of  September,  and  not  executed 
until  the  2d  January  1662.  These  defences  were  made  for  the  various  ofHcers  of 
the  Isle  of  Man  called  before  the  privy  council  on  account  of  Christian's  death, 
and  supported  with  many  quotations  from  the  laws  of  the  island,  and  appear  to 
have  been  received  as  a  sufficient  defence  for  their  share  in  those  proceedings. 

I  am  obliged  to  the  present  reverend  vicar  of  Malew  for  a  certified  extract  to 
the  following  effect :—"  Malew  Burials,  a.  d.  1662.  Mr.  William  Christian  of 
Ronaldsway,  late  receiver,  was  shot  to  death  at  Hango  Hall,  the  2d  January. 
He  died  most  penitently  and  courageously,  made  a  good  end,  prayed  earnestly, 
made  an  excellent  speech,  and  the  next  day  was  buried  in  the  chancell  of  Kirk 
Malew." 

It  is  certain  that  the  death  of  William  Christian  made  a  very  deep  impression 
upon  the  minds  of  the  islanders,  and  a  Mr.  Calcott  or  Colquitt  was  much  blamed 
on  the  occasion.  Two  lesser  incidents  are  worth  preservation  as  occurring  at 
his  execution.  The  place  on  which  he  stood  was  covered  with  white  blankets, 
that  his  blood  might  not  fall  on  the  ground  ;  and,  secondly,  the  precaution  proved 
unnecessary,  for,  the  musket  wounds  bleeding  Internally,  there  was  no  outward 
effusion  of  blood. 

Many  on  the  island  deny  Christian's  guilt  altogether,  like  his  respectable  de- 
scendant, the  present  dempster ;  but  there  are  others,  and  those  men  of  judg- 
ment and  respectability,  who  are  so  far  of  a  different  opinion,  that  they  only 
allow  the  execution  to  have  been  wrong  in  so  far  as  the  culprit  died  by  a  military 
rather  than  a  civil  death.  I  willingly  drop  the  veil  over  a  transaction  which  took 
pl&ce  flaarantibris  odiis  at  the  conclusion  of  a  civil  war,  when  revenge  at  least 
was  awake  if  justice  slept. 

Note  5. — Arranoement  of  Apartments,  p.  69 

This  peculiar  collocation  of  apartments  may  be  seen  at  Haddon  Hall,  Derby- 
shire, once  a  seat  of  the  Vernons,  where,  in  the  lady's  pew  in  the  chapel,  there  is 
a  sort  of  scuttle,  which  opens  into  the  kitchen,  so  that  the  good  lady  could  ever 
and  anon,  without  much  interruption  of  her  religious  duties,  give  an  eye  that 
the  roast-meat  was  not  permitted  to  burn,  and  that  the  turn-broche  did  his  duty. 
— This  old  baronial  residence,  now  the  property  of  the  Rutland  family,  is  pleas- 
antly situated  on  th«  rirer  Wye.    It  i9  the  deli|fht  of  artists  {Laing). 


I 


iifOTSS  To  PiSVMBtL  OP  THE  PEAK  581 

Note  6.— Pages,  p.  88 

Even  down  to  a  later  period  than  that  in  which  the  tale  Is  laid,  the  ladies  of 
distinction  had  for  their  pages  young  gentlemen  of  distinguished  rank,  whose 
education  proceeded  witnin  the  family  of  their  patroness.  Anne  Duchess  of 
Buccleuch  and  Monmouth,  who  in  several  respects  laid  claim  to  the  honors  due 
to  royal  blood,  was,  I  believe,  the  last  person  of  rank  who  kept  up  this  old  custom. 
A  general  officer  distinguished  in  the  American  war  was  bred  up  as  a  page  in  her 
family.  At  present  the  youths  whom  we  sometimes  see  in  the  capacity  of  pages 
of  great  ladies  are,  I  believe,  mere  lacquies. 

Note  7.— Ejection  of  Presbyterian  Clergy,  p.  86 

The  ejection  of  the  Presbvterian  clergy  took  place  on  St.  Bartholomew's  day, 
thence  called  Black  Bartholomew.  Two  thousand  Presbyterian  pastors  were  on 
that  day  displaced  and  silenced  throughout  England.  The  preachers  indeed  had 
only  the  alternative  to  renounce  their  principles  or  subscribe  certain  articles  of 
uniformity.  And  to  their  great  honor,  Calamy,  Baxter,  and  Reynolds  refused 
bishoprics,  and  many  other  Presbyterian  ministers  declined  deaneries  and  other 
preferments,  and  submitted  to  deprivation  in  preference. 

Note  8.— Persecution  of  the  Puritans,  p.  112 

It  is  naturally  to  be  supposed  that  the  twenty  years'  triumph  of  the  Puritans, 
and  the  violence  towards  the  Malignants,  as  they  were  wont  to  call  the  Cavaliers, 
had  generated  many  grudges  and  feuds  in  almost  every  neighborhood,  v/hich  the 
victorious  Royalists  failed  not  to  act  iipon,  so  soon  as  the  Restoration  gave  them 
a  superiority.  Captain  Hodgson,  a  Parliamentary  officer  who  wrote  his  own 
Memoirs,  gives  us  many  instances  of  this.  I  shall  somewhat  compress  his  long- 
winded  account  of  his  sufferings. 

"It  was  after  the  King's  return  to  London,  one  night  a  parcel  'of  armed  men 
besets  my  house  at  Coalley  Hall,  near  Halifax,  and  in  an  unseasonable  hour  in 
the  night  demands  entrance,  and  my  servants  within  having  some  discourse  with 
them  on  the  outside,  they  gave  threatening  language,  put  their  pistols  in  at  the 
windows  ;  and  my  wife  being  with  child  ...  I  ordered  the  doors  to  be  opened, 
and  they  came  in  .  .  .  after  they  had  presented  a  pistol  to  my  breast  .  .  .  they 
showed  me  their  authority  to  apprehend  me,"  under  the  hands  and  seals  of  two 
knights  and  deputy-lieutenants,  "for  speaking  treasonable  words  against  the 
King."  The  ci-devanf  captain  was  conveyed  to  prison  at  Bradford,  and  bail  re- 
fused. His  prosecutor  proved  to  be  one  Daniel  Lyster,  brother  to  the  peace-of- 
ficer who  headed  the  troop  for  his  apprehension.  It  seems  that  the  prisoner 
Hodgson  had  once  in  former  days  bound  over  to  his  good  behavior  this  Daniel 
Lyster,  then  accused  of  adultery  and  other  debauched  habits.  "  After  the  King 
was  come  in,"  says  Hodgson,  "  this  man  meets  me,  and  demands  the  names  of 
those  that  informed  against  him,  and  a  copy  of  their  information.  I  told  him 
that  the  business  was  over,  and  that  it  was  not  seasonable  to  rip  up  old  troubles, 
on  which  he  threatened  me,  and  said  he  would  have  them.  '  The  sun,'  he  said, 
'  now  shines  on  our  side  of  the  hedge.'  "  Such  being  his  accuser,  Hodgson  was 
tried  for  having  said,  "  There  is  a  crown  provided,  but  the  King  will  never  wear 
it "  ;  to  which  was  added,  that  he  alleged  he  had  "  never  been  a  turncoat— never 
took  the  oath  of  allegiance,  and  never  would  do."  Little  or  no  part  of  the  charge 
was  proved,  while  on  the  contrary  it  was  shown  that  the  prosecutor  had  been 
heard  to  say,  that  if  times  ever  changed,  he  would  sit  on  Hodgson's  skirts.  In 
fine,  Hodgson  escaped  for  five  months'  imprisonment,  about  thirty  pounds  ex- 
penses, and  the  necessity  of  swallowing  the  oath  of  allegiance,  which  seems  to 
have  been  a  bitter  pill. 

About  the  middle  of  June  1662,  Captain  Hodgson  was  again  arrested  in  a  sum- 
mary manner  by  one  Peebles,  an  attorney,  quartermaster  to  Sir  John  Armitage's 
troop  of  horse-militia,  with  about  twelve  other  Cavaliers,  who  used  him  rudely, 
called  him  rebel  and  traitor,  and  seemed  to  wish  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  him,  upon 
which  he  demanded  to  see  their  authority.  Peebles  laid  his  hand  on  his  sword, 
and  told  him  it  was  better  authority  than  any  ever  granted  by  Cromwell.  They 
suffered  him,  however,  to  depart,  which  he  partly  owed  to  the  valor  of  his  land- 
lady, who  sate  down  at  the  table-end  betwixt  him  and  danger,  and  kept  his  an- 
tagonists at  some  distance. 

He  was  afterwards  accused  of  having  assembled  some  troopers,  from  his  hav- 
ing been  accidentally  seen  riding  with  a  soldier,  from  which  accusation  he  also 
escaped.  Finally,  he  fell  under  suspicion  of  being  concerned  in  a  plot,  of  which 
the  scene  is  called  Sowerby.  On  this  charge  he  is  not  explicit,  but  the  grand 
jury  found  the  bill  ignoramus. 

After  this  the  poor  Roundhead  was  again  repeatedly  accused  and  arrested ; 
and  the  last  occasion  we  fhall  notic*  occurred  ou  11th  September  1662,  when  he 


682  NOTES  TO  PEVEEIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

was  disarmed  by  his  old  friend  Mr.  Peeble«,  at  the  head  of  a  party.  He  dd" 
manded  to  see  the  warrant ;  on  which  he  was  answered  as  formerly,  by  the  quar< 
termaster  laying  his  hand  on  his  sword -hilt,  saying  it  was  a  better  order  than 
Oliver  used  to  give.  At  length  a  warrant  was  produced,  and  Hodgson  submitting 
to  the  search,  they  took  from  his  dwelling-house  better  than  £20  value  in  fowl- 
ing-pieces, pistols,  muskets,  carbines,  and  such-like.  A  quarrel  ensued  about  his 
buflf  coat,  which  Hodgson  refused  to  deliver,  alleging  they  had  no  authority  to 
take  his  wearing-apparel.  To  this  he  remained  constant,  even  upon  the  personal 
threats  of  Sir  John  Armitage,  who  called  him  rebel  and  traitor,  and  said,  "  If  I 
did  not  send  the  buff  coat  with  all  the  speed,  he  would  commit  me  to  jail."  "  I 
told  him,"  says  Hodgson,  "  I  was  no  rebel,  and  he  did  not  well  to  call  me  so  be- 
fore these  soldiers  and  gentlemen,  to  make  me  the  mark  for  every  one  to  shoot 
at."  The  buff  coat  was  then  peremptorily  demanded,  and  at  length  seized  by 
open  force.  One  of  Sir  John  Armitage's  brethren  wore  it  for  many  years,  after 
making  good  Prince  Henry's  observation,  that  a  buff  jerkin  is  a  most  sweet  robe 
of  durance.  An  agent  of  Sir  John's  came  to  compound  for  this  garment  of  proof. 
Hodgson  says  he  would  not  have  taken  ten  pounds  for  it.    Sir  John  would  have 

f:iven  about  four,  but  insisting  on  the  owner's  receipt  for  the  money,  which  it? 
ormer  possessor  was  unwilling  to  grant,  the  Tory  magistrate  kept  both  sides, 
and  Hodgson  never  received  satisfaction. 

We  will  not  prosecute  Mr.  Hodgson's  tale  of  petty  grievances  any  farther. 
Enough  has  been  said  to  display  the  melancholy  picture  of  the  country  after  the 
Civil  War,  and  to  show  the  state  of  irritability  and  oppression  which  must  have 
extended  itself  over  the  face  of  England,  since  there  was  scarcely  a  county  in 
which  battles  had  not  been  fought,  and  deep  injuries  sustained,  during  the  as- 
cendency of  the  Roundheads,  which  were  not  afterwards  retaliated  by  the  venge- 
ance of  the  Cavaliers. 

Note  9. — Popular  Pastimes  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  p.  115 

Waldron  mentions  the  two  popular  festivities  in  the  Isle  of  Man  which  are 
alluded  to  in  the  text,  and  vestiges  of  them  are,  I  believe,  still  to  be  traced  in 
this  singular  island.  The  Contest  of  Winter  and  Summer  seems  directly  derived 
from  the  Scandinavians,  long  the  masters  in  Man,  as  Olaus  Magnus  mentions  a 
similar  festival  among  the  Northern  nations.  On  t^e  first  of  May,  he  says,  the 
country  is  divided  into  two  bands,  the  captain  of  one  of  which  hath  the  name 
and  appearance  of  Winter,  is  clothed  in  skins  of  beasts,  and  he  and  his  band 
armed  with  fire  forks.  They  fling  about  ashes  [snowballs  and  icicles],  by  way  of 
prolonging  the  reign  of  Winter ;  while  another  band,  whose  captain  is  called 
Florio,  represent  Spring,  with  green  boughs,  such  as  the  season  offers.  These 
parties  skirmish  in  sport,  and  the  mimic  contest  concludes  with  a  general  feast. 
— History  of  the  Northern  Nations,  by  Olaus,  Book  XV.  chap.  ii. 

Waldron  gives  an  account  of  a  festival  in  Wales  [Man]  exactly  similar  : 

In  almost  all  the  great  parishes,  they  choose  from  among  the  daughters  of  the 
most  wealthy  farmers  a  young  maid  for  the  Queen  of  May.  She  is  drest  in  the 
gayest  and  best  manner  they  can,  and  is  attended  by  about  twenty  others,  who 
are  called  maids  of  honor.  She  has  also  a  young  man,  who  is  her  captain,  and 
has  under  his  command  a  good  number  of  inferior  officers.  In  opposition  to  her 
is  the  Queen  of  Winter,  who  is  a  man  drest  in  woman's  clothes,  with  woolen 
hoods,  fur  tippets,  and  loaded  with  the  warmest  and  heaviest  habits,  one  upon 
another ;  in  the  same  manner  are  those  who  represent  her  attendants  drest ;  nor 
is  she  without  a  captain  and  troop  for  her  defense.  Both  being  equipt  as  proper 
emblems  of  the  beauty  of  the  spring  and  the  deformity  of  the  winter,  they  set 
forth  from  their  respective  quarters,  the  one  preceded  by  violins  and  flutes,  the 
other  with  the  rough  music  of  the  tongs  and  cleavers.  Both  companies  marcli 
till  they  meet  on  a  common,  and  then  their  trains  engage  in  a  mock  battle.  If 
the  Queen  of  Winter's  forces  get  the  better,  so  far  as  to  take  the  Queen  of  May 
prisoner,  she  is  ransomed  for  as  much  as  pays  the  expenses  of  the  day.  After 
this  ceremony.  Winter  and  her  company  retire,  and  divert  themselves  in  a  barn, 
and  the  others  remain  on  the  green,  where,  having  danced  a  considerable  time, 
they  conclude  the  evening  with  a  feast ;  the  queen  at  one  table  with  her  maids, 
the  captain  with  his  troop  at  another.  There  are  seldom  less  than  fifty  or  sixty 
persons  at  each  board,  but  .  .  .  not  more  than  three  or  four  knives  .  .  .  Christ- 
mas is  ushered  in  with  a  form  much  less  meaning,  and  infinitely  more  fatiguing. 
On  the  34th  of  December,  towards  evening,  all  the  servants  in  general  have  a 
holiday  ;  they  go  not  to  bed  all  night,  but  ramble  about  till  the  bells  ring  in  all 
the  churches,  which  is  at  twelve  o'clock  ;  prayers  being  over,  they  go  to  hunt 
the  wren,  and  after  having  found  one  of  these  poor  birds,  they  kill  her,  and  lay 
her  on  a  bier  with  the  utmost  solemnity,  bringing  her  to  the  parish  church  and 
burying  her  with  a  whimsical  kind  of  solemnity,  singing  dirges  over  her  in  the 
Hanks  language,  which  they  call  her  knell ;  after  which  Christmas  begins 


i 


NOTES  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  583 

There  is  not  a  barn  unoccupied  the  whole  twelve  days,  every  parish  hiring  fid- 
dlers at  the  public  charge  ;  and  all  the  youth,  nay,  sometimes  people  well  ad- 
vanced in  years,  making  no  scruple  to  be  among  these  nocturnal  dancers.— X>e- 
scription  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  folio,  1731. 

With  regard  to  horse-racing  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  I  am  furnished  with  a  certified 
copy  of  the  rules  on  which  that  sport  was  conducted,  under  the  permission  of  the 
Earl  of  Derby,  in  which  the  cui'ious  may  see  that  a  descendant  of  the  unfortu- 
ate  Christian  entered  a  horse  for  the  prize.  I  am  indebted  for  this  curiosity  to 
my  kind  friend,  the  learned  Dr.  Dibdin. 

Insxjla  I     Articles  for  the  plate  lohich  is  to  he  run  for  in  the  said  island,  being 
MoN^.  )     of  the  value  of  jive  pounds  sterling  (the  fashion  included),  given  by 

the  Bight  Honorable  William  Earl  of  Derby,  Lord  of  the  said  Isle, 

etc. 

Ist  The  said  plate  is  to  be  run  for  upon  the  28th  day  of  July,  in  every  year,  whiles 
his  honour  is  pleased  to  allow  the  same  (being  the  day  of  the  nativity  of  the 
Honourable  James  Lord  Strange),  except  it  happen  upon  a  Sunday,  and  if  soe, 
the  said  plate  is  to  be  run  for  upon  the  day  following. 

2d.  That  noe  horse,  gelding,  or  mair  shall  be  admitted  to  run  for  the  said  plate, 
but  such  as  was  foaled  within  the  said  island,  or  in  the  Calfe  of  Mann. 

3d.  That  euerv  horse,  gelding,  or  mair  that  is  designed  to  run  shall  be  entred  at 
or  before  ihe  viijth  day  of  July,  with  his  master's  name  and  his  owne,  if  he 
be  generally  knowne  by  any,  or  els  his  collour,  and  whether  horse,  mair,  or 
gelding,  and  that  to  be  done  at  the  x  comprs.  office,  by  the  cleark  of  the  rolls 
for  the  time  being. 

4th.  That  euery  person  that  puts  in  either  horse,  mair,  or  gelding,  shall,  at  the 
time  of  their  entring,  depositt  the  sume  of  fine  shill.  apiece  into  the  hands  of 
the  said  clerk  of  the  rolls,  which  is  to  goe  towards  the  augmenting  of  the 
plate  for  the  year  following,  besides  one  shill.  apiece  to  be  giuen  by  them  to 
the  said  clerk  of  the  rolls,  for  entering  their  names  and  engrossing  these 
fl.rticl6S 

5th.  That  euery  horse,  mair,  or  gelding  shall  carry  horseman's  weight,  that  is  to 
say,  ten  stone  weight,  at  fourteen  pounds  to  each  stone,  besides  sadle  and 
bridle. 

6th.  That  euery  horse,  mair,  or  gelding  shall  haue  a  person  for  its  tryer,  to  be 
named  by  the  owner  of  the  said  horse,  mair,  or  gelding,  which  tryers  are  to 
have  the  command  of  the  scales  and  weights,  and  to  see  that  euery  rider  doe 
carry  full  weight,  according  as  is  mentioned  in  the  foregoing  article,  and  es- 
pecially that  the  winning  rider  be  soe  with  the  usual  allowance  of  one  pound 
for. 

7th.  That  a  person  be  assigned  by  the  tryers  to  start  the  runinge  horses,  who  are 
to  run  for  the  said  plate,  betwixt  the  howers  of  one  and  three  of  the  clock  in 
the  afternoon. 

8th.  That  euery  rider  shall  leave  the  two  first  powles  which  are  sett  upp  in  Macy- 
braes  close,  in  this  manner  following,  that  is  to  say,  the  first  of  the  said  two 
powles  upon  his  right  hand,  and  the  other  upon  his  left  hand  ;  and  the  two 
powles  by  the  rockes  are  to  be  left  upon  hand  likewise  ;  and  the  fifth  powle, 
which  is  sett  up  at  the  lower  end  of  the  Conney-warren,  to  be  leftalsoe  upon 
the  left  hand,  and  soe  the  turning  powle  next  to  Wm.  Looreyes  house  to  be 
left  in  like  maner  upon  the  left  hand,  and  the  other  two  powles,  leading  to 
the  ending  powle,  to  be  left  upon  the  right  hand  ;  all  which  powles  are  to  be 
left  by  the  riders  as  aforesaid,  excepting  only  the  distance-powle,  which 
may  be  rid  on  either  hand,  at  the  discretion  of  the  rider,  etc.  etc.  etc. 

July  Uth,  1687. 
The  name  of  the  persons  who  have  entered  their  horses  to  run  for  the  within 
plate  for  this  present  year,  1687. 

Ro.  Heywood,  Esq.,  Governor  of  this  Isle,  hath  entered  ane  bay  geld- 
ing called  by  the  name  of  Loggerhead,  and  hath  deposited  towards 
the  augmenting  of  the  plate  for  the  next  year £00  05  00 

Captain  Tho.  Hudlston  hath  entred  one  white  gelding,  called  Snow- 
ball, and  hath  depositted 00  05  00 

Mr.  William  Faigler  hath  entred  his  gray  gelding,  called  the  Gray 
Carraine,  and  depositted 00  05  00 

Mr.  Nicho.  Williams  hath  entred  one  gray  stone-horse,  called  the 
Yorkshire  Gray,  and  depositted 00  05  00 

Mr.  Demster  Christian  hath  entred  one  gelding,  called  the  Dapple 
Gray,  and  bath  depositte<J  ,,',..♦,,.      00  05  09 


584  NOTES  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

iRth  July,  1887. 

Mbmorakduk, 

That  this  day  the  above  plate  wab  run  for  by  the  foremenoioned  horse,  and  th« 
same  was  fairly  won  by  the  right  worshipful  governor's  horse  at  the  two  first 
heates, 

17th  August,  1688. 
Received  this  day  the  above  ,  which  I  am  to  pay  to  my  master 

to  augment  y*  plate  by  me,  John  Wood. 

It  is  my  good-will  and  pleasure    y«  y*  2  prizes  formerly  granted  (by  me)   for 
^ors  runing  and  shouting  shall  continue  as  they  did,  to  be  run,  or  shot  for,  and 
soe  to  continue  dureing  my  good-will  and  pleasure.    Given  under  my  hand  at 
Lathom,  y  12th  of  July  1669. 

Dekby. 
To  my  governor's  deputy-governor  and  y«  rest  of 
my  officers  in  my  Isle  of  Man. 

Note  10.— Portrait  of  William  Christian,  p.  119 

I  am  told  that  a  portrait  of  the  unfortunate  William  Christian  Is  still  pre- 
served in  the  family  of  Watterson  of  Ballhahow  of  Kirk  Church,  Rushin.  Wil- 
liam Dhone  is  dressed  iE  a  green  coat  without  collar  or  cape,  after  the  fashion  of 
those  Puritanic  times,  with  the  head  in  a  close-cropt  wig,  resembling  the  bishop's 
peruke  of  the  present  day.  The  countenance  is  youthful  and  well  looking,  very 
unlike  the  expression  of  foreboding  melancholy.  I  have  so  far  taken  advantage 
of  this  criticism  as  to  bring  my  ideal  portrait  nearer  to  the  complexion  at  least 
of  the  fair-haired  William  Dhone. 

Note  11.— Whalley  the  Regicide,  p.  157 

There  is  a  common  tradition  in  America  that  this  person,  who  was  never  heard 
of  after  the  Restoration,  fled  to  Massachusetts,  and,  living  for  some  years  con- 
cealed in  that  province,  finally  closed  his  day.s  there.  The  remarkable  and 
beautiful  story  of  his  having  suddenly  emerged  from  his  place  of  concealment, 
and,  placing  himself  at  the  head  of  a  party  of  settlers,  shown  them  the  mode  of 
acquiring  a  victory,  which  they  were  on  the  point  of  yielding  to  the  Indians,  is 
also  told,  and  in  all  probability  truly.  I  have  seen  the  whole  tradition  com- 
mented upon  at  large  in  a  late  North  American  publication,  which  goes  so  far 
as  to  ascertain  the  obscure  grave  to  which  the  remains  of  Whalley  were  secretly 
committed.  This  singular  story  has  lately  afforded  the  justly  celebrated  Amer- 
ican novelist,  Mr.  Cooper,  the  materials  from  which  he  has  compiled  one  of 
those  impressive  narratives  of  the  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  the  Transatlantic 
woods  and  the  hardy  Europeans  by  whom  they  were  invaded  and  dispossessed. 

Note  12.— Sodor,  or  Holm-Peel,  in  the  Isle  op  Man,  p.  161 

The  Author  has  never  seen  this  ancient  fortress,  which  has  in  its  circuit  so 
much  that  is  fascinating  to  the  antiquary.  Waldron  has  given  the  following 
description,  which  is  perhaps  somewhat  exaggerated  :— 

"  Peel,  or  Pile-Town,  is  so  called  from  its  garrison  and  castle ;  though  in  effect 
the  castle  cannot  properly  be  said  to  be  in  the  town,  an  arm  of  the  sea  running 
between  them,  which  in  high  tides  would  be  deep  enough  to  bear  a  ship  of  forty 
or  fifty  ton,  though  sometimes  quite  drained  of  salt  water ;  but  then  it  is  sup- 
plied with  fresh  by  a  river  which  runs  from  Kirk  Jarmyn  Mountains,  and  empties 
itself  into  the  sea.  This  castle,  for  its  situation,  antiquity,  strength,  and  beauty, 
might  justly  come  in  for  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world.  Art  and  nature  seem 
to  have  vied  with  each  other  in  the  model,  nor  ought  the  most  minute  particular 
to  escape  observation.  As  to  its  situation,  it  is  built  upon  the  top  of  a  huge  rock, 
which  rears  itself  a  stupendous  height  above  the  sea,  with  which,  as  I  said  be- 
fore, it  is  surrounded.  And  also  by  natural  fortifications  of  other  lesser  rocks, 
which  render  it  unaccessible  but  by  passing  that  little  arm  of  the  sea  which 
divides  it  from  the  town  ;  this  you  may  do  in  a  small  boat ;  and  the  natives,  tuck- 
ing up  their  clothes  under  their  arms,  and  plucking  off  their  shoes  and  stockings, 
frequently  wade  it  In  low  tides.  When  you  arrive  at  the  foot  of  the  rock,  you 
ascend  about  some  threescore  steps,  which  are  cut  out  of  it  to  the  first  wall, 
which  is  immensely  thick  and  high,  and  built  of  a  very  'durable  and  bright  stone, 
though  not  of  the  same  sort  with  that  of  Castle  Rushin  in  Castle  Town  ;  and  has 
on  it  four  little  houses,  or  watch-towers,  which  overlook  the  sea.  The  gates  are 
■wood,  but  most  curiously  arched,  carved,  and  adorned  with  pilasters.  Having 
passed  the  first,  you  have  other  stairji  of  near  half  the  number  with  the  former 


I 


NOTES  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  585 

to  mount,  before  you  come  at  the  second  wall,  which,  as  well  as  the  other,  is  full 
of  port- holes  for  cannon,  which  are  planted  on  stone  crosses  on  a  third  walL 
Being  entered,  you  find  yourself  in  a  wide  plain,  in  the  midst  of  which  stands  the 
castle,  encompassed  by  four  churches,  three  of  which  time  has  so  much  decayed 
that  there  is  little  remaining,  besides  the  walls,  and  some  few  tombs,  which  seem 
to  have  been  erected  with  so  much  care  as  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  those 
buried  in  them  till  the  final  dissolution  of  all  things.  The  fourth  is  kept  a  little 
better  in  repair  ;  but  not  so  much  for  its  own  sake,  though  it  has  been  the  most 
magnificent  of  them  all,  as  for  a  chapel  within  it,  which  is  appropriated  to  the 
use  of  the  bishop,  and  has  under  it  a  prison,  or  rather  dungeon,  for  those 
offenders  who  are  so  miserable  as  to  incur  the  spiritual  censure.  This  is  cer- 
tainly one  of  the  most  dreadful  places  that  imagination  can  form.  The  sea  runs 
under  it  through  the  hollows  of  the  rock  with  such  a  continual  roar,  that  you 
would  think  it  were  every  moment  breaking  in  upon  you,  and  over  it  are  the 
vaults  for  burying  the  dead.  The  stairs  descending  to  this  place  of  terrors  are 
not  above  thirty,  but  so  steep  and  narrow  that  they  are  very  difficult  to  go 
down,  a  child  of  eight  or  nine  years  old  not  being  able  to  pass  them  but  sideways. 
Within  it  are  thirteen  pillars,  on  which  the  whole  chapel  is  supported.  They 
have  a  superstition,  that  whatsoever  stranger  goes  to  see  this  cavern  out  of 
curiosity,  and  omits  to  count  the  pillars,  shall  do  something  to  occasion  being 
confined  there.  There  are  places  for  penance  also  under  all  the  other  churches, 
containing  several  very  dark  and  horrid  cells.  Some  have  nothing  in  them  either 
to  sit  or  lie  down  on,  others  a  small  piece  of  brickwork  ;  some  are  lower  and 
more  dark  than  others ;  but  all  of  them,  in  my  opinion,  dreadful  enough  for 
almost  any  crime  humanity  is  capable  of  being  guilty  of  ;  though  'tis  supposed 
they  were  built  with  different  degrees  of  horror,  that  the  punishment  might  be 
proportionate  to  the  faults  of  those  wretches  who  were  to  be  confined  in  them. 
These  have  never  been  made  use  of  since  the  times  of  Popery  ;  but  that  under 
the  bishop's  chapel  is  the  common  and  only  prison  for  all  offenses  in  the  spiritual 
court  and  to  that  the  delinquents  are  sentenced.  But  the  soldiers  of  the  garri- 
son permit  them  to  suffer  their  confinement  in  the  castle,  it  being  morally  im- 
possible for  the  strongest  constitution  to  sustain  the  damps  and  noisomeness  of 
the  cavern  even  for  a  few  hours,  much  less  for  months  and  years,  as  is  the  pun- 
ishment sometimes  allotted.  But  I  shall  speak  hereafter  more  fully  of  the 
severity  of  the  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction.  'Tis  certain  that  here  have  been  very 
great  architects  in  this  island  ;  for  the  noble  monuments  in  this  church,  which 
is  kept  in  repair,  and  indeed  in  the  ruins  of  the  others  also,  show  the  builders  to 
be  masters  of  all  the  orders  in  that  art,  though  the  great  numbers  of  Doric 
pillars  prove  them  to  be  chiefly  admirers  of  that.  Nor  are  the  epitaphs  and 
inscriptions  on  the  tombstones  less  worthy  of  remark  ;  the  various  languages  in 
which  they  are  engraved  testify  by  what  a  diversity  of  nations  this  little  spot  of 
earth  has  been  possessed.  Though  time  has  defaced  too  many  of  the  letters 
to  render  the  remainder  intelligible,  yet  you  may  easily  perceive  fragments  of 
the  Hebrew,  Greek,  Latin,  Arabian,  Saxon,  Scotch,  and  Irish  characters  ;  some 
dates,  yet  visible,  declare  they  were  written  before  the  coming  of  Christ ;  and, 
indeeed,  if  one  considers  the  walls,  the  thickness  of  them,  and  the  durableness 
of  the  stone  of  which  they  are  composed,  one  must  be  sensible  that  a  great 
number  of  centuries  must  pass  before  such  strong  workmanship  could  be 
reduced  to  the  condition  it  now  is.  These  churches,  therefore,  were  doubtless 
once  the  temples  of  pagan  deities,  though  since  consecrated  to  the  worship  of 
the  true  Divinity ;  and  what  confirms  me  more  strongly  in  this  conjecture  is, 
that  there  is  still  a  part  of  one  remaining,  where  stands  a  large  stone  directly  in 
form  and  manner  like  the  triposes,  which  in  those  days  of  ignorance,  the  priests 
stood  upon,  to  deliver  their  fabulous  oracles.  Through  one  of  these  old  churches, 
there  was  formerly  a  passage  to  the  apartment  belonging  to  the  captain  of  the 
guard,  but  is  now  closed  up.  The  reason  they  give  you  for  it  is  a  pretty  odd 
one  ;  but  as  I  think  it  not  sufficient  satisfaction  to  my  curious  reader  to  acquaint 
him  with  what  sort  of  buildings  this  island  affords,  without  letting  him  know 
also  what  traditions  are  concerning  them,  I  shall  have  little  regard  to  the  censure 
of  those  critics  who  find  fault  with  everything  out  of  the  common  road  ;  and  in 
this,  as  well  as  in  all  other  places  where  it  falls  in  my  way,  shall  make  it  my 
endeavor  to  lead  him  into  the  humors  and  very  souls  of  the  Manks  people. 
They  say,  that  an  apparition,  called  in  their  language  the  Mauthe  Doog,  in  the 
shape  of  a  large  black  spaniel  with  curled  shaggy  hair,  was  used  to  haunt  Peel 
Castle,  and  has  been  frequently  seen  in  every  room,  but  particularly  in  the 
guard-chamber,  where,  as  soon  as  candles  were  lighted,  it  came  and  fay  down 
before  the  fire,  in  presence  of  all  the  soldiers,  who,  at  length,  by  being  so  much 
accustomed  to  the  sight  of  it,  lost  great  part  of  the  terror  they  were  seized 
with  at  its  first  appearance.  They  still,  however,  retained  a  certain  awe,  as 
believing  it  was  an  evil  spirit  which  only  waited  permission  to  do  them  hurt, 
and  for  that  reason  forbore  swearing  and  all  profane  discourse  while  in  its 
company.    But  though  they  endured  the  shock  of  such  a  guest  when  ^together 


586  NOTES  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

in  a  body,  none  cared  to  be  left  alone  srith  It.  It  being  the  custom,  there» 
fore,  for  one  of  the  soldiers  to  lock  the  gates  of  the  castle  at  a  certain  hour, 
and  carry  them  [the  keys]  to  the  captain,  to  whose  apartment,  as  I  said  be- 
fore, the  way  led  through  a  church,  tney  agreed  among  themselves,  that  what- 
ever was  to  succeed  the  ensuing  night,  his  fellow  in  this  errand  should  ac- 
company him  that  went  first,  and  by  this  means,  no  man  would  be  exposed 
singly  to  the  danger  ;  for  I  forgot  to  mention  that  the  Mauthe  Doog  was 
always  seen  to  come  from  that  passage  at  the  close  of  day,  and  return  to  it 
again  as  soon  as  the  morning  dawned,  which  made  them  look  on  *tiis  place  as 
its  peculiar  residence.  One  night  a  fellow  being  drunk,  and  by  the  strength  of 
his  liquor  rendered  more  daring  than  ordinary,  laughed  at  the  simplicity  of  his 
companions,  and  though  it  was  not  his  turn  to  go  with  the  keys,  would  needs 
take  that  office  upon  him,  to  testify  his  courage.  All  the  soldiers  endeavored 
to  dissuade  him,  but  the  more  they  said,  the  more  resolute  he  seemed,  and 
swore  that  he  desired  nothing  more  than  that  Mauthe  Doog  would  follow  him,  as 
it  had  done  the  others,  for  he  would  try  if  it  were  dog  or  devil.  After  having 
talked  in  a  very  reprobate  manner  for  some  time,  he  snatched  up  the  keys  and 
went  out  of  the  guard-room  ;  in  some  time  after  his  departure  a  great  noise  was 
heard,  but  nobody  had  the  boldness  to  see  what  occasioned  it,  till  the  adventu/er 
returning,  they  demanded  the  knowledge  of  him  ;  but  as  loud  and  noisy  as  he 
had  been  at  leaving  them,  he  was  now  become  sober  and  silent  enough,  for  he 
was  never  heard  to  speak  more  ;  and  though  all  the  time  he  lived,  which  was 
three  days,  he  was  entreated  by  all  who  came  near  him  either  to  speak,  or,  if  he 
could  not  do  that,  to  make  some  signs,  by  which  they  might  understand  what 
had  happened  to  him,  yet  nothing  intelligible  could  be  got  from  him,  only  that, 
by  the  distortion  of  his  limbs  and  features,  it  might  be  guessed  that  he  died  in 
agonies  more  than  is  common  in  a  natural  death.  The  Mauthe  Doog  was,  how- 
ever, never  seen  after  in  the  castle,  nor  would  any  one  attempt  to  go  through 
that  passage,  for  which  reason  it  was  closed  up,  and  another  way  made.  This 
accident  happened  about  threescore  years  since,  and  I  heard  it  attested  by 
several,  but  especially  by  an  old  soldier,  who  assured  nie  he  had  seen  itoftener 
than  he  had  then  hairs  on  his  head.  Having  taken  notice  of  everything  remark- 
able in  the  churches,  I  believe  my  reader  will  be  impatient  to  conje  to  the  castle 
itself,  which,  in  spite  of  the  magnificence  the  pride  of  modern  ages  has  adorned 
the  palaces  of  princes  with,  exceeds  not  only  everything  I  have  seen,  but  also 
read  of,  in  nobleness  of  structure.  Though  now  no  more  than  a  garrison  for 
soldiers,  you  cannot  enter  it  without  being  struck  with  a  veneration  which  the 
most  beautiful  buildings  of  later  years  cannot  inspire  you  with  ;  the  largeness 
and  loftiness  of  the  rooms,  the  vast  echo  resounding  through  them,  the  many 
winding  galleries,  the  prospect  of  the  sea,  and  the  ships,  which,  by  reason  of  the 
height  of  the  place,  seem  but  like  buoys  floating  on  the  waves,  makes  you  fancy 
yourself  in  a  superior  orb  to  what  the  rest  of  mankind  inhabit,  and  fills  you 
with  contemplations  the  most  refined  and  pure  that  the  soul  is  capable  of  con- 
ceiving."—Descj-ip^ion  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  folio,  1731,  pp.  103-109. 

In  this  description,  the  account  of  the  inscriptions  in  so  many  Oriental  lan- 
guages, and  bearing  date  before  the  Christian  era,  is  certainly  as  much  exag- 
gerated as  the  story  of  the  Mauthe  Doog  itself.  It  would  be  very  desirable  to 
find  out  the  meaning  of  the  word  "  mauthe  "  in  the  Manx  language,  which  is  a 
dialect  of  the  Gaelic.  I  observe,  that  "  maithe  "  in  Gaelic,  amongst  other  signi- 
fications, has  that  of  "  active"  or  "  speedy  ;  "  and  also,  that  a  dog  of  Richard  II., 
mentioned  by  Froissart,  and  supposed  to  intimate  the  fall  of  his  master's  author- 
ity, by  leaving  him  and  fawning  on  Bolingbroke,  was  termed  Mauthe  ;  but 
neither  of  these  particulars  tends  to  explain  the  very  impressive  story  of  the 
fiendish  hound  of  Peel  Castle. 

Note  13.— Duchess  op  Newcastle,  p.  163 

This  lady,  who  died  in  1673,  was  the  author  of  several  volumes  of  poems  and 
plays,  which  are  now  chiefly  valued  for  the  portraits  some  of  them  contain.  In 
one  of  these  the  authoress  is  seated  under  a  canopy,  attended  by  four  cupids, 
two  of  whom  are  crowning  her  with  laurel  (Laing). 

Note  14.— Prison  undee  Church,  p.  165 

Beneath  the  only  one  of  the  four  churches  in  Castle  Rush  in  [Peel  Castle] 
which  is  or  was  kept  a  little  in  repair  is  a  prison  or  dungeon  for  ecclesiastical  of- 
fenders. "  This,"  saysWaldron,  "is  certainly  one  of  the  most  dreadful  places  that 
imagination  can  form.  The  sea  runs  under  it  through  the  hollows  of  the  rock 
with  such  a  continual  roar,  that  you  would  think  it  were  every  moment  break- 
ing in  upon  you,  and  over  it  are  the  vaults  for  burying  the  dead.    The  stairs 


IfOTES  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  587 

descending  to  this  place  of  terrors  are  not  above  thirty,  but  so  steep  and  narrow 
that  they  are  very  diflflcult  to  go  down,  a  child  of  eight  or  nine  years  not  being 
able  to  pass  them  but  sideways."  -Description  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  folio,  p.  104. 

Note  15.— Manx  Superstitions,  p.  176 

The  story  often  alludes  to  the  various  superstitions  which  are,  or  at  least  were, 
received  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  an  ancient  Celtic  race,  still  speak- 
ing the  language  of  their  fathers.  They  retained  a  plentiful  stock  of  those  wild 
legends  which  overawed  the  reason  of  a  dark  age,  and  in  our  own  time  amuse  the 
imagination  of  those  who  listen  to  the  fascination  of  the  tale,  while  they  despise 
its  claims  to  belief.  The  following  curious  legendary  traditions  are  extracted 
from  Waldron,  a  huge  mine,  in  which  I  have  attempted  to  discover  some  speci- 
mens of  spar,  if  I  cannot  find  treasure. 

"  'Tis  this  ignorance,"  meaning  that  of  the  islanders,  which  is  the  occasion  of 
the  excessive  superstition  which  reigns  among  them .  I  have  already  given  some 
hints  of  it,  but  not  enough  to  show  the  world  what  a  Manksman  truly  is,  and 
what  power  the  prejudice  of  education  has  over  weak  minds.  If  books  were  of 
any  use  among  them,  one  would  swear  the  Count  of  Gabalis  had  been  not  only 
translated  into  the  Manks  tongue,  but  that  it  was  a  sort  of  rule  of  faith  to  them, 
since  there  is  no  fictitious  being  mentioned  by  him,  in  his  book  of  absurdities, 
which  they  would  not  readily  give  credit  to.  I  know  not,  idolizers  as  they  are  of 
the  clergy,  whether  they  would  not  be  even  refractory  to  them,  were  they  to 
preach  against  the  existence  of  fairies,  or  even  against  their  being  commonly 
seen  ;  for  though  the  priesthood  are  a  kind  of  gods  among  them,  yet  still  tradi- 
tion is  a  greater  god  than  they  ;  and  as  they  confidently  assert  that  the  first  in- 
habitants of  their  island  were  fairies,  so  do  they  maintain  that  these  little  people 
have  still  their  residence  among  them.  They  call  them  the  Good  People,  and  say 
they  live  in  wilds  and  forests,  and  on  mountains,  and  shun  great  cities  because 
of  the  wickedness  acted  therein  ;  all  the  houses  are  blest  where  they  visit,  for 
they  fly  vice.  A  person  would  be  thought  impudently  prophane  who  should  suf- 
fer his  family  to  go  to  bed  without  having  first  set  a  tub,  or  pail,  full  of  clean 
water,  for  these  guests  to  bathe  themselves  in,  which  the  natives  aver  they  con- 
stantly do,  as  soon  as  ever  the  eyes  of  the  family  are  closed,  wherever  they  vouch- 
safe to  come.  If  anything  happen  to  be  mislaid,  and  found  again  in  some  place 
where  it  was  not  expected,  they  presently  tell  you  a  fairy  took  it  and  returned 
it ;  if  you  chance  to  get  a  fall  and  hurt  yourself,  a  fairy  laid  something  in  your 
way  to  throw  you  down,  as  a  punishment  for  some  sin  you  have  committed.  I 
have  heard  many  of  them  protest  they  have  been  carried  insensibly  great  dis- 
tances from  home,  and,  without  knowing  how  they  came  there,  found  themselves 
on  the  top  of  a  mountain.  One  story  in  particular  was  told  me  of  a  man  who  had 
been  led  by  invisible  musicians  for  several  miles  together  ;  and  not  being  able  to 
resist  the  harmony,  followed  till  it  conducted  him  to  a  large  common,  where  were 
a  great  number  of  little  people  sitting  round  a  table,  and  eating  and  drinking  in 
a  very  jovial  manner.  Among  them  were  some  faces  whom  he  thought  he  had 
formerly  seen,  but  forbore  taking  any  notice,  or  they  of  him,  till  the  little  people, 
offering  him  drink,  one  of  them,  whose  features  seemed  not  unknown  to  him, 
plucked  him  by  the  coat,  and  forbade  him,  whatever  he  did,  to  taste  anything  he 
saw  before  him  ;  "for  if  you  do,"  added  he,  "  you  will  be  as  I  am,  and  return  no 
more  to  your  family."  The  poor  man  was  much  affrighted,  but  resolved  to  obey 
the  injunction  ;  accordingly,  a  large  silver  cup,  filled  with  some  sort  of  liquor, 
being  put  into  his  hand,  he  found  an  opportunity  to  throw  what  it  contained  on 
the  ground.  Soon  after  the  music  ceasing,  all  the  company  disappeared,  leaving 
the  cup  in  his  hand,  and  he  returned  home,  though  much  wearied  and  fatigued. 
He  went  the  next  day  and  communicated  to  the  minister  of  the  parish  all  that 
had  happened,  and  asked  his  advice  how  he  should  dispose  of  the  cup  ;  to  which 
the  parson  replied,  he  could  not  do  better  than  to-  devote  it  to  the  service  of  the 
church  ;  and  this  very  cup,  they  tell  me,  is  that  which  is  now  used  for  the  con- 
secrated wine  in  Kirk-Merlugh. 

"  Another  instance  they  gave  me  to  prove  the  reality  of  fairies  was  of  a  fiddler, 
who,  having  agreed  with  a  person,  who  was  a  stranger,  for  so  much  money,  to 
play  to  some  company  he  should  bring  him  to,  all  the  twelve  days  of  Christmas, 
and  received  earnest  tor  it,  saw  his  new  master  vanish  into  the  earth  the  moment 
he  had  made  the  bargain.  Nothing  could  be  more  terrified  than  was  the  poor 
fiddler  ;  he  found  he  had  entered  himself  into  the  devil's  service,  and  looked  on 
himself  as  already  damned.  But  having  recourse  also  to  a  clergyman,  he  re- 
ceived some  hope  ;  he  ordered  him,  however,  as  he  had  taken  earnest,  to  go  when 
he  should  be  called,  but  that  whatever  tunes  should  be  called  for,  to  play  none 
but  psalms.  On  the  day  appointed,  the  same  person  appeared,  with  whom  he 
went,  though  with  what  inward  reluctance  'tis  easy  to  guess ;  but  punctually 
obeying  the  minister's  directiQUS^  th«  qprnpa-ny  to  whom  he  played  were  so  angry, 


588  I70TES  TO  PEVEBIL  OF  TEE  PEAK 

that  they  all  vanished  at  once,  leaving  him  at  the  top  of  a  high  hill,  and  so  hruised 
and  hurt,  though  he  was  not  sensible  when,  or  f»'om  what  hand  he  received  the 
blows,  that  he  got  not  home  without  the  utmost  dithculty.  Tiie  old  story  of  in- 
fants being  changed  in  their  cradles  is  here  in  such  credit,  that  mothers  are  in 
continual  terror  at  the  thoughts  of  it.  I  was  prevailed  upon  myself  to  go  and  see 
a  child,  who,  they  told  me,  was  one  of  these  cnangelings  ;  and,  indeed,  must  own 
was  not  a  little  surprised,  as  well  as  shocked,  at  the  sight.  Nothing  under  heaven 
could  have  a  more  beautiful  face  ;  but  though  between  five  and  six  years  old, 
and  seemingly  healthy,  he  was  so  far  from  being  able  to  walk  or  stand,  that  he 
could  not  so  much  as  move  any  one  joint ;  his  limbs  were  vastly  long  for  his  age, 
but  smaller  than  an  infant's  of  six  months  ;  his  complexion  was  perfectly  delicate, 
and  he  had  the  finest  hair  in  the  world  ;  he  never  spoke  nor  cried,  eat  scarce  any- 
thing, and  was  very  seldom  seen  to  smile  ;  but  if  any  one  called  him  a  fairy-elf, 
he  would  frown  and  fix  his  eyes  so  earnestly  on  those  who  said  it,  as  if  he  would 
look  them  through.  His  mother,  or  at  least  his  supposed  mother,  being  very  poor, 
frequently  went  out  a-chairing,  and  left  him  a  whole  day  together  ;  the  neigh- 
bors, out  of  curiosity,  have  often  looked  in  at  the  window  to  see  how  he  behaved 
when  alone  ;  which,  whenever  they  did,  they  were  sure  to  find  him  laughing,  and 
in  the  utmost  delight.  This  made  them  judge  that  he  was  not  without  company 
more  pleasing  to  him  than  any  mortal's  could  be  ;  and  what  made  this  conjecture 
seem  the  more  reasonable  was,  that,  if  he  were  left  ever  so  dirty,  the  woman,  at 
her  return,  saw  him  with  a  clean  face,  and  his  hair  combed  with  the  utmost  ex- 
actness and  nicety. 

"  A  second  account  of  this  nature  I  had  from  a  woman  to  whose  offspring  the 
fairies  seemed  to  have  taken  a  particular  fancy.  The  fourth  or  fifth  night  after 
she  was  delivered  of  her  first  child,  the  family  were  alarmed  with  a  most  terrible 
cry  of  fire,  on  which  everybody  ran  out  of  the  house  to  see  whence  it  proceeded, 
not  excepting  the  nurse,  who,  being  [as]  much  frighted  as  the  others,  made  one 
of  the  number.  The  poor  woman  lay  trembling  in  her  bed  alone,  unable  to  help 
herself,  and  her  back  being  turned  to  the  infant,  saw  not  that  it  was  taken  away 
by  an  invisible  hand.  Those  who  had  left  her  having  inquired  about  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  finding  there  was  no  cause  for  the  outcry  they  had  heard,  laughed 
at  each  other  for  the  mistake  ;  but  as  they  were  going  to  re-enter  the  house,  the 
poor  babe  lay  on  the  threshold,  and  by  its  cries  preserved  itself  from  being  trod 
upon.  This  exceedingly  amazed  all  that  saw  it,  and  the  mother  being  still  in  bed, 
they  could  ascribe  no  reason  for  finding  it  there  but  having  been  removed  by 
fairies,  who,  by  their  sudden  return,  had  been  prevented  from  carrying  it  any 
farther.  About  a  year  after,  the  same  woman  was  brought  to  bed  of  a  second 
child,  which  had  not  been  born  many  nights  before  a  great  noise  was  heard  in 
the  house  where  they  kept  their  cattle  ;  for  in  this  island,  where  there  is  no  shel- 
ter in  the  fields  from  the  excessive  cold  and  damps,  they  put  all  their  milch-kine 
into  a  barn,  which  they  call  a  cattle-house.  Everybody  that  was  stirring  ran  to 
see  what  was  the  matter,  believing  that  the  cows  had  got  loose.  The  nurse  was 
as  ready  as  the  rest,  but,  finding  all  safe,  and  the  barn  door  close,  immediately 
returned,  but  not  so  suddenly  but  that  the  new-born  babe  was  taken  out  of  the 
bed,  as  the  former  had  been,  and  dropt  on  their  coming,  in  the  middle  of  the 
entry.  This  was  enough  to  prove  the  fairies  had  made  a  second  attempt ;  and 
the  parents  sending  for  a  minister,  joined  with  him  in  thanksgiving  to  God,  who 
had  twice  delivered  their  children  from  being  taken  from  them.  But  in  the  time 
of  her  third  lying-in,  everybody  seemed  to  have  forgot  what  had  happened  in  the 
first  and  second,  and  on  a  noise  in  the  cattle-house,  ran  out  to  know  v/hat  had 
occasioned  it.  The  nurse  was  the  only  person,  excepting  the  woman  in  the  straw, 
who  stay'd  in  the  house,  nor  was  she  detained  through  care  or  want  of  curiosity, 
but  by  the  bonds  of  sleep,  having  drank  a  little  too  plentifully  the  preceding  day. 
The  mother,  who  was  broad  awake,  saw  her  child  lifted  out  of  the  bed,  and  car- 
ried out  of  the  chamber,  though  she  could  not  see  any  person  touch  it ;  on  which 
she  cried  out  r.s  loud  as  she  could,  '  Nurse,  nurse  !  my  child,  my  child  is  taken 
away  I '  but  the  old  woman  was  too  fast  to  be  awakened  by  the  noise  she  made, 
and  the  infant  was  irretrievably  gone.  When  her  husband,  and  those  who  had 
accompanied  him,  returned,  they  found  her  wringing  her  hands,  and  uttering  tha 
most  piteous  lamentations  for  the  loss  of  her  child  ;  on  which,  said  the  husband, 
looking  into  the  bed,  '  The  woman  is  mad,  do  not  you  see  the  child  lies  by  you  ? ' 
On  which  she  turned,  and  saw  indeed  something  like  a  child,  but  far  different 
from  her  own,  who  was  a  very  beautiful,  fat,  well-featured  babe  ;  whereas,  what 
was  now  in  the  room  of  it  was  a  poor,  lean,  withered,  deformed  creature  It  lay 
quite  naked,  but  the  clothes  belonging  to  the  child  that  was  exchanged  for  it  lay 
wrapt  up  altogether  on  the  bed.  This  creature  lived  with  them  near  the  space 
of  nine  years,  in  all  which  time  it  eat  nothing  except  a  few  herbs,  nor  was  ever 
seen  to  void  any  other  excrement  than  water.  It  neither  spoke  nor  could  stand 
or  go,  but  seemed  enervate  in  every  joint,  like  the  changeling  I  mentioned  before, 
and  In  all  its  actions  showed  Itself  to  be  of  the  same  nature. 

"  A  woman,  who  lived  about  two  miles  distant  from  BallasalU,  and  used  to  serve 


ifOTHS  TO  PEVEBIL  OF  THE  Pi:Ak  689 

my  family  with  butter,  made  me  once  very  merry  with  a  story  she  told  me  of  her 
daughter,  a  girl  of  about  ten  years  old,  who,  being  sent  over  the  fields  to  the  town, 
for  a  pennyworth  of  tobacco  for  her  father,  was  on  the  top  of  a  mountain  sur 
rounded  by  a  great  number  of  little  men,  who  would  not  suffer  her  to  pass  any 
farther.  Some  of  them  said  she  should  go  with  them,  and  accordingly  laid  hold 
of  her  ;  but  one  seeming  more  pitiful,  desired  they  would  let  her  alone  ;  which, 
they  refusing,  there  ensued  a  quarrel,  and  the  person  who  took  her  part  fought 
bravely  in  her  defense.  This  so  incensed  the  others,  that,  to  be  revenged  on 
her  for  being  the  cause,  two  or  three  of  them  seized  her,  and  pulling  up  her 
clothes,  whipped  her  heartily  ;  after  which,  it  seems,  they  had  no  further  power 
over  her,  and  she  ran  home  directly,  telling  what  had  berallen  her,  and  showing 
her  buttocks,  on  which  were  the  prints  of  several  small  hands.  Several  of  the 
townspeople  went  with  her  to  the  mountain,  and  she  conducting  them  to  the 
spot,  the  little  antagonists  were  gone,  but  had  left  behind  them  proofs  (as  the 
good  woman  said)  that  what  the  girl  had  informed  them  was  true,  for  there  was 
a  great  deal  of  blood  to  be  seen  on  the  stones.  This  did  she  aver  with  all  the 
solemnity  imaginable. 

"  Another  woman,  equally  superstitious  and  fanciful  as  the  former,  told  me 
that,  being  great  with  child,  and  expecting  every  moment  the  good  hour,  as  she 
lay  awake  one  night  in  her  bed,  she  saw  seven  or  eight  little  women  come  into 
her  chamber,  one  of  whom  had  an  infant  in  her  arms  ;  they  were  followed  by  a 
man  of  the  same  size  with  themselves,  but  in  the  habit  of  a  minister.  One  of  them 
went  to  the  pail,  and  finding  no  water  in  it,  cried  out  to  the  others,  '  What  must 
they  do  to  christen  the  child  ?  '  On  which  they  replied,  '  It  should  be  done  in 
beer.'  With  that  the  seeming  parson  took  the  child  in  his  arms,  and  performed 
the  ceremony  of  baptism,  dipping  his  hand  into  a  great  tub  of  strong  beer,  which 
the  woman  had  brewed  the  day  before  to  be  ready  for  her  lying-in.  She  told  me 
that  they  baptized  the  infant  by  the  name  of  Joan,  which  made  her  know  she 
was  pregnant  of  a  girl,  as  it  proved  a  few  days  after,  when  she  was  delivered. 
3he  added  also,  that  it  was  common  for  the  fairies  to  make  a  mock  christening 
when  any  person  was  near  her  time,  and  that  according  to  what  child,  male  or 
female,  they  brought,  such  should  the  woman  bring  into  the  world. 

"  But  I  cannot  give  over  this  subject  without  mentioning  what  they  say  befell 
a  young  sailor,  who,  coming  off  a  long  voyage,  though  it  was  late  at  night,  chose 
to  land  rather  than  lie  another  night  in  the  vessel ;  being  permitted  to  do  so,  he 
was  set  on  shore  at  Duglas.  It  happened  to  be  a  fine  moonlight  night,  and  very 
dry.  being  a  small  frost ;  he  therefore  forbore  going  into  any  house  to  refresh 
himself,  but  made  the  best  of  his  way  to  the  house  of  a  sister  he  had  at  Kirk- 
Merlugh.  As  he  was  going  over  a  pretty  high  mountain,  he  heard  the  noise  of 
horses,  the  hollow  of  a  huntsman,  and  the  finest  horn  in  the  world.  He  was  a 
little  surprised  that  anybody  pursued  those  kinds  of  sports  in  the  night,  but  he 
had  not  time  for  much  reflection  before  they  all  passed  by  him,  so  near,  that  he 
was  able  to  count  what  number  there  was  of  them,  which,  he  said,  was  thirteen, 
and  that  they  were  all  drest  in  green,  and  gallantly  mounted.  He  was  so  well 
pleased  with  the  sight,  that  he  would  gladly  have  followed,  could  he  have  kept 
pace  with  them  ;  he  crossed  the  footway,  however,  that  he  might  see  them  again, 
which  he  did  more  than  once,  and  lost  not  the  sound  of  the  horn  for  some  miles. 
At  length,  being  arrived  at  his  sister's,  he  tells  her  the  story,  who  presently 
clapped  her  hands  for  joy  that  he  was  come  home  safe  ;  '  for,'  said  she,  '  those 
vou  saw  were  fairies,  and  'tis  well  they  did  not  take  you  away  with  them."  There 
is  no  persuading  them  but  that  these  huntings  are  frequent  in  the  island,  and 
that  these  little  gentry,  being  too  proud  to  ride  on  Manks  horses,  which  they 
might  find  in  the  field,  make  use  of  the  English  and  Irish  ones,  which  are  brought 
over  and  kept  by  gentlemen.  They  say  that  nothing  is  more  common  than  to 
find  these  poor  beasts,  in  a  morning,  all  over  in  a  sweat  and  foam,  and  tired  almost 
to  death,  when  their  owners  have  believed  they  have  never  been  out  of  the  stable. 
A  gentleman  of  Ballafletcher  assured  me  he  had  three  or  four  of  his  best  horses 
killed  with  these  nocturnal  journeys. 

"  At  my  first  coming  into  the  island,  and  hearing  these  sort  of  stories,  I  im- 
puted the  giving  credit  to  them  merely  to  the  simplicity  of  the  poor  creatures 
who  related  them  ;  but  was  strangely  surprised  when  I  heard  other  narratives 
of  this  kind,  and  altogether  as  absurd,  attested  by  men  who  passed  for  persons 
of  sound  judgment.  Among  this  number  was  a  gentleman,  my  near  neighbor, 
who  affirmed  with  the  most  solemn  asseverations  that  being  of  my  opinion,  and 
entirely  averse  to  the  belief  that  any  such  beings  were  permitted  to  wander  for 
the  purposes  related  of  them,  he  had  been  at  last  convinced  by  the  appearance 
of  several  little  figures  playing  and  leaping  over  some  stones  in  a  field,  whom  [at] 
a  few  yards'  distance  he  imagined  were  schoolboys,  and  intended,  when  he  came 
near  enough,  to  reprimand  for  being  absent  from  their  exercises  at  that  time  of 
the  day,  it  being  then,  he  said,  between  three  and  four  of  the  clock  ;  but  when  he 
approached,  as  near  as  he  could  guess,  within  twenty  paces,  they  all  immediately 
disappeared,  though  he  had  never  taken  his  eye  off  them  from  the  first  moment 


590  NOTES  TO  PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

he  beheld  them  ;  nor  was  there  any  place  where  they  could  so  suddenly  retreat, 
it  being  an  open  field  without  hedge  or  bush,  and,  as  I  said  before,  broad  day. 

"  Another  instance,  which  might  serve  to  strengthen  the  credit  of  the  other, 
was  told  me  by  a  person  who  had  the  reputation  of  the  utmost  integrity.  This 
man  being  desirous  of  disposing  of  a  horse  he  had  at  that  time  no  great  occasion 
for,  and  riding  him  to  market  for  that  purpose,  was  accosted,  in  passing  over 
the  mountains,  by  a  little  man  in  a  plain  dress,  who  asked  him  if  he  would  sell 
his  horse.  '  'Tis  the  design  I  am  going  on,'  replied  the  person  who  told  me  the 
story.  On  which  the  other  desired  to  know  the  price.  '  Eight  pounds,'  said  he. 
'  No,'  resumed  the  purchaser,  '  I  will  give  no  more  than  seven  ;  which  if  you 
will  take,  here  is  your  money.'  The  owner,  thinking  he  had  bid  pretty  fair, 
agreed  with  him  ;  and  the  money  being  told  out,  the  one  dismounted,  and  the 
other  got  on  the  back  of  the  horse,  which  he  had  no  sooner  done  than  both  beast 
and  rider  sunk  into  the  earth  immediately  leaving  the  person  who  had  made  the 
bargain  in  the  utmost  terror  and  consternation.  As  soon  as  he  had  a  little  recov- 
ered himself,  he  went  directly  to  the  parson  of  the  parish,  and  related  what  had 
passed,  desiring  lie  would  give  his  opinion  whether  he  ought  to  make  use  of  the 
money  he  had  received  or  not.  To  which  he  replied  that,  "  As  he  had  made  a  fair 
bargain,  and  no  way  circumvented,  nor  endeavored  to  circumvent,  the  buyer,  he 
saw  no  reason  to  believe,  in  case  it  was  an  evil  spirit,  it  could  have  any  power 
over  him.'  On  this  assurance  he  went  home  well  satisfied,  and  nothing  after- 
ward happened  to  give  him  any  disquiet  concerning  this  affair. 

"  A  second  account  of  the  same  nature  I  had  from  a  clergyman,  and  a  person 
of  more  sanctity  than  the  generality  of  his  function  in  chis  island.  It  was  his 
custom  to  pass  some  hours  evening  in  a  field  near  his  house,  indulging  medita- 
tion, and  calling  himself  to  an  account  for  the  transactions  of  the  past  day.  As 
he  was  in  this  place  one  night,  more  than  ordinarily  wrapt  in  contemplation,  he 
wandered,  without  thinking  where  he  was,  a  considerable  way  farther  than  it 
was  usual  for  him  to  do  ;  and,  as  he  told  me,  he  knew  not  how  far  the  deep  mus- 
ing he  was  in  might  have  carried  him,  if  it  had  not  been  suddenly  interrupted  by 
a  noise,  which,  at  first,  he  took  to  be  the  distant  bellowing  of  a  bull ;  but  as  he 
listened  more  heedfully  to  it,  found  there  was  something  more  terrible  in  the 
sound  than  could  proceed  from  that  creature.  He  confessed  to  me  that  he  was 
no  less  affrighted  than  surprised,  especially  when,  the  noise  coming  still  nearer 
he  imagined,  whatever  it  was  that  it  proceeded  from,  it  must  pass  him.  He  had, 
however,  presence  enough  of  mind  to  place  himself  with  his  back  to  a  hedge, 
where  he  fell  on  his  knees,  and  began  to  pray  to  God  with  all  the  vehemence  so 
dreadful  an  occasion  required.  He  had  not  been  long  in  that  position,  before  he 
beheld  something  in  the  form  *ot  a  bull,  but  infinitely  larger  than  ever  he  had 
seen  in  England,  much  less  in  Man,  where  the  cattle  are  very  small  in  general. 
"The  eyes,"  he  said,  "  seemed  to  shoot  forth  flames,  and  the  running  of  it  was 
with  such  a  force  that  the  ground  shook  under  it  as  in  an  earthquake.  It  made 
directly  toward  a  little  cottage,  and  there,  after  most  horribly  roaring,  disap- 
peared." The  moon  being  then  at  the  full,  and  shining  in  her  utmost  splendor, 
all  thes3  passages  were  visible  to  our  amazed  divine,  who,  having  finished  his 
ejaculation,  and  given  thanks  to  God  for  his  preservation,  went  to  the  cottage, 
the  owner  of  which,  they  told  him,  was  that  moment  dead.  The  good  old  gentle- 
man was  loth  to  pass  a  censure  which  might  be  judged  an  uncharitable  one  ;  but 
the  deceased  having  the  character  of  a  very  ill  liver,  most  people  who  heard  the 
story  were  apt  to  imagine  this  terrible  apparition  came  to  attend  his  last  mo- 
ments. 

"  A  mighty  bustle  they  also  make  of  an  apparition  which,  they  say,  haunts 
Castle  Russin,  in  the  form  of  a  woman,  who  was  some  years  since  executed  for 
the  murder  of  her  child.  I  have  heard  not  only  persons  who  have  been  confined 
there  for  debt,  but  also  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison,  affirm  they  have  seen  it  vari- 
ous times ;  but  what  I  took  most  notice  of  was  the  report  of  a  gentleman,  of 
whose  good  understanding,  as  well  as  veracity,  I  have  a  very  great  opinion.  He 
told  me  that,  happening  to  be  abroad  late  one  night,  and  catched  in  an  excessive 
storm  of  wind  and  rain,  he  saw  a  woman  stand  before  the  castle  gate,  where,  be- 
ing not  the  least  shelter,  it  something  surprised  him  that  anybody,  much  less  one 
of  that  sex,  should  not  rather  run  to  some  little  porch  or  shed,  of  which  there  are 
several  in  Castle  Town,  than  chuse  to  stand  still,  exposed  and  alone,  to  such  a 
dreadful  tempest.  His  curiosity  exciting  him  to  draw  nearer,  that  he  might  dis- 
cover who  it  was  that  seemed  so  little  to  regard  the  fury  of  the  elements,  he  per- 
ceived she  retreated  on  his  approach,  and  at  last,  he  thought,  went  into  the  cas- 
tle, though  the  gates  were  shut.  This,  obliging  him  to  think  he  had  seen  a  spirit, 
sent  him  home  very  much  terrified  ;  but  the  next  day,  relating  his  adventure  to 
some  people  who  lived  in  the  castle,  and  describing,  as  near  as  he  could,  the  garb 
and  stature  of  the  apparition,  they  told  him  it  was  that  of  the  woman  above- 
mentioned,  who  had  been  frequently  seen,  by  the  soldiers  on  guard,  to  pass  in 
and  out  of  the  gates,  as  well  as  to  walk  through  the  rooms,  though  there  was  no 
visible  mean  to  enter.  Though  so  familiar  to  the  eye,  no  person  has  yet,  how- 
ever, had  the  courage  to  speak  to  it.  and,  as  they  say  a  spirit  has  no  power  to  re- 


NOTES  TO  PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  591 

▼eal  its  mind  without  being  conjured  to  do  so  in  a  proper  manner,  the  reason  of 
its  being  permitted  to  wander  is  unknown. 

"  Another  story  of  the  like  nature  I  have  heard  concerning  an  apparition  which 
has  frequently  been  seen  on  a  wild  common  near  Kirk  Jarmyn  Mountains,  which, 
they  say,  assumes  the  shape  of  a  wolf,  and  fills  the  air  with  most  terrible  bowl- 
ings. But  having  run  on  so  far  in  the  account  of  supernatural  appearances,  I 
cannot  forget  what  was  told  me  by  an  English  gentleman,  and  my  particular 
friend.  He  was  about  passing  over  Duglas  Bridge  before  it  was  broken  down, 
but  the  tide  being  high,  he  was  obliged  to  take  the  river,  having  an  excellent 
horse  under  him,  and  one  accustomed  to  swim.  As  he  was  in  the  middle  of  it, 
he  heard,  or  imagined  he  heard,  the  finest  symphony— I  will  not  say  in  the  world, 
for  nothing  human  ever  came  up  to  it.  The  horse  was  no  less  sensible  of  the  har- 
mony than  himself,  and  kept  in  an  immovable  posture  all  the  time  it  lasted ; 
which,  he  said,  could  not  be  less  than  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  according  to  the 
most  exact  calculation  he  could  make,  when  he  arrived  at  the  end  of  his  little 
journey,  and  found  how  long  he  had  been  coming.  He,  who  before  laughed  at 
all  the  stories  told  of  fairies,  now  became  a  convert,  and  believed  as  much  as  ever 
a  Manksman  of  them  all.  As  to  circles  in  the  grass,  and  the  impression  of  small 
feet  among  the  snow,  I  cannot  deny  but  I  have  seen  them  frequently,  and  once 
thought  I  heard  a  whistle,  as  though  in  my  ear,  when  nobody  that  could  make  it 
was  near  me.  For  my  part,  I  shall  not  pretend  to  determine  if  such  appearances 
have  any  reality,  or  are  only  the  effect  of  the  imagination  ;  but  as  I  had  much 
rather  give  credit  to  them  than  be  convinced  by  ocular  demonstration,  I  shall 
leave  the  point  to  be  discussed  by  those  who  have  made  it  more  their  study,  and 
only  say,  that  whatever  belief  we  ought  to  give  to  some  accounts  of  this  kind, 
there  are  others,  and  those  much  more  numerous,  which  merit  only  to  be  laughed 
at— it  not  being  at  all  consonant  to  reason,  or  the  idea  religion  gives  us  of  the 
fallen  angels,  to  suppose  spirits,  so  eminent  in  wisdom  and  knowledge  as  to  be 
exceeded  by  nothing  but  their  Creator,  should  visit  the  earth  for  such  trifling 
purposes  as  to  throw  bottles  and  glasses  about  a  room,  and  a  thousand  other  as 
ridiculous  gambols  mentioned  in  those  voluminous  treatises  of  apparitions. 

"  The  natives  of  this  island  tell  you  also  that,  before  any  person  dies,  the  pro- 
cession of  the  funeral  is  acted  by  a  sort  of  beings,  which  for  that  end  render 
themselves  visible.  I  know  several  that  have  offered  to  make  oath  that,  as  they 
have  been  passing  the  road,  one  of  these  funerals  has  come  behind  them,  and 
even  laid  the  bier  on  their  shoulders,  as  though  to  assist  the  bearers.  One  per- 
son, who  assured  me  he  had  been  served  so,  told  me  that  the  flesh  of  his  shoulder 
had  been  very  much  bruised,  and  was  black  for  many  weeks  after.  There  are 
few  or  none  of  them  who  pretend  not  to  have  seen  or  heard  these  imaginary  ob- 
sequies (for  I  must  not  omit  that  they  sing  psalms  in  the  same  manner  as  those 
do  who  accompany  the  corpse  of  a  dead  friend),  which  so  little  differ  from  real 
ones,  that  they  are  not  to  be  known  till  both  coffin  and  mourners  are  seen  to  van- 
ish at  the  church  doors.  These  they  take  to  be  a  sort  of  friendly  demons,  and 
their  business,  they  say,  is  to  warn  people  of  what  is  to  befall  them  ;  accordingly, 
they  give  notice  of  any  stranger's  approach,  by  the  trampling  of  horses  at  the 
gate  of  the  house  where  they  are  to  arrive.  As  difficult  as  I  found  it  to  bring 
myself  to  give  any  faith  to  this,  I  have  frequently  been  very  much  surprised, 
when,  on  visiting  a  friend,  I  have  found  the  table  ready  spread,  and  everything 
in  order  to  receive  me,  and  been  told  by  the  person  to  whom  I  went  that  he  had 
knowledge  of  my  coming,  or  some  other  guest,  by  these  good-natured  intelligen- 
cers ;  nay,  when  obliged  to  be  absent  some  time  from  home,  my  own  servants 
have  assured  me  they  were  informed  by  these  means  of  my  return,  and  expected 
me  the  very  hour  I  came,  though  perhaps  it  was  some  days  before  I  hoped  it  my- 
self at  my  going  abroad.  That  this  is  fact,  I  am  positively  convinced  by  many 
proofs  ;  but  how  or  wherefore  it  should  be  so  has  frequently  given  me  much  mat- 
ter of  reflection,  yet  left  me  in  the  same  uncertainty  as  before.  Here,  therefore, 
I  will  quit  the  subject,  and  proceed  to  things  much  easier  to  be  accounted  for." — 
Description  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  folio,  1731,  pp.  125-140. 

This  long  quotation  is  extremely  curious  as  containing  an  account  of  those  very 
superstitions  in  the  Isle  of  Man  which  are  frequently  collected  both  in  Ireland 
and  in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland,  and  which  have  employed  the  attention  of  Mr. 
Crof ton  Croker  and  of  the  author  of  the  Fairy  Mythology.  The  superstitions  are 
in  every  respect  so  like  each  other,  that  they  may  be  referred  to  one  common 
source ;  unless  we  conclude  that  they  are  natural  to  the  human  mind,  and,  like 
the  common  orders  of  vegetables,  which  naturally  spring  up  in  every  climate, 
these  naturally  arise  in  every  bosom  ;  as  the  best  philologists  are  of  opinion  that 
fragments  of  an  original  speech  are  to  be  discovered  in  almost  all  languages  in 
the  globe. 

Note  16. — Sale  op  a  Dancing-Girl,  p.  222 

An  instance  of  such  a  sale  of  an  unfortunate  dancing^girl  oceuired  in  Edinburgh 
in  the  end  of  tljie  17tli  centurjr* 


692  IfOTES  TO  PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

"  18th  January  1687.— Reid,  the  mountebank,  pursues  Scott  of  Harden  and  his 
lady,  for  stealing  away  from  him  a  little  girl  called  "  the  tumbling  lassie,"  that 
danced  upon  his  stage,  and«he  claimed  damages,  and  produced  a  contract,  where- 
by he  bought  her  from  her  mother  for  thirty  pounds  Scots.  But  we  have  no 
slaves  in  Scotland,"  continues  the  liberal  reporter,  "  and  mothers  cannot  sell 
their  bairns  ;  and  physicians  attested,  the  employment  of  tumbling  would  kill 
her,  and  her  joints  were  now  grown  stiff  and  she  declined  to  return,  though  she 
was  at  least  a  prentice,  and  could  not  run  away  from  her  master.  Yet  some 
cited  Moses's  law,  and  if  a  servant  shelter  himself  with  thee  against  his  master's 
cruelty,  thou  shalt  surely  not  deliver  him  up.  The  Lords,  renitente  cancellario, 
assoilzied  Harden." — Fountainhall's  Decisions,  vol.  i.  p.  439. 

A  man  may  entertain  some  vanity  in  being  connected  with  a  patron  of  the  cause 
of  humanity  ;  so  the  Author  may  be  pardoned  mentioning  that  he  derives  his 
own  direct  descent  from  the  father  of  this  champion  of  humanity. 

Reid,  the  mountebank,  apparently  knew  well  how  to  set  the  sails  of  his  own  in- 
terest to  whatever  wind  proved  most  likely  to  turn  them.  He  faded  not  to  avail 
himself  of  King  James's  rage  for  the  conversion  of  heretics,  on  which  subject 
Fountainhall  has  this  sarcastic  memorandum  :— 

"  17th  January. — Reid,  the  mountebank,  is  received  into  the  Popish  Church, 
and  one  of  his  blackamoors  was  persuaded  to  accept  of  baptism  from  the  Popish 
priests,  and  to  turn  Christian  Papist,  which  was  a  great  trophy.  He  was  chris- 
tened James  after  the  King,  and  Chancellor,  and  the  Apostle  James  1 "— Tbzd.  p. 
440. 

Note  17.— Witnesses  of  the  Popish  Plot,  p.  228 

The  infamous  character  of  those  who  contrived  and  carried  on  the  pretended 
Popish  Plot  may  be  best  estimated  by  the  account  given  in  North's  Examen,  who 
describes  Gates  himself  with  considerable  power  of  coloring.  "  He  was  now  in 
his  trine  exaltation,  his  plot  in  full  force,  efficacy,  and  virtue  ;  he  walked  about 
with  his  guards,  assigned  for  fear  of  the  Papists  murdering  him.  He  had  lodg- 
ings in  Whitehall,  and  £1200  per  annum  pension.  And  no  wonder,  after  he  had 
the  impudence  to  say  to  the  House  of  Lords,  in  plain  terms,  that  if  they  would 
not  help  him  to  more  money,  he  must  be  forced  to  help  himself.  He  put  on  an 
Episcopal  garb,  except  the  lawn  sleeves,  silk  gown  and  cassock,  great  hat.  satin 
hatband  and  rose,  long  scarf,  and  was  called,  or  most  blasphemously  called  him- 
self, the  saviour  of  the  nation  ;  whoever  he  pointed  at  was  taken  up  and  com- 
mitted ;  so  that  many  people  got  out  of  his  way,  as  from  a  blast,  and  glad  they 
could  prove  their  two  last  years'  conversation.  The  very  breath  of  him  was  pes- 
tilential, and,  if  it  brought  not  imprisonment  or  death  over  such  on  whom  it  fell, 
it  surely  poisoned  reputation,  and  left  good  Protestants  arrant  Papists,  and  some- 
thing worse  than  that — in  danger  of  being  put  in  the  plot  as  traitors.  Upon  his 
examination  before  the  Commons,  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  Scroggs  was  sent  for 
to  the  House,  and  there  signed  warrants  for  the  imprisonment  of  five  Roman 
Catholic  peers,  upon  which  they  were  laid  up  in  the  Tower.  The  votes  of  the 
Houses  seemed  to  confirm  the  whole.  A  solemn  form  of  prayer  was  desired  upon 
the  subject  of  the  plot,  and  when  one  was  prept.red  it  was  found  faulty,  because 
the  Papists  were  not  named  as  authors  of  it.  God  surely  knew  whether  it  were 
so  or  not ;  however,  it  was  yielded  to,  that  omniscience  might  not  want  informa- 
tion. The  Queen  herself  was  accused  at  the  Commons'  bar.  The  city,  for  fear 
of  the  Papists,  put  up  their  posts  and  chains  ;  and  the  chamberlain,  Sir  Thomas 
Player,  in  the  Court  of  Aldermen,  gave  his  reason  for  the  city's  using  that  cau- 
tion, which  was,  that  he  did  not  know  but  the  next  morning  they  might  all  rise 
with  their  throats  cut.  The  trials,  convictions,  and  executions  of  the  priests, 
Jesuits,  and  others  were  had,  and  attended  with  vast  mob  and  noise.  Nothing 
ordinary  or  moderate  was  to  be  heard  in  people's  communication  ;  but  every  de- 
bate and  action  was  high-flown  and  tumultuous.  All  freedom  of  speech  was 
taken  away  ;  and  not  to  believe  the  plot  was  worse  than  being  Turk.  Jew  or  in- 
fidel. For  this  fact  of  Godfrey's  murder,  the  three  poor  men  of  Somerset  House 
were,  as  was  said,  convicted.  The  most  pitiful  circumstance  was  that  of  their 
trial,  under  the  popular  prejudice  against  them.  The  Lord  Chief  of  Justice 
Scroggs  took  in  with  the  tide,  and  ranted  for  the  plot,  hewing  down  Popery,  as 
Scanderbeg  hewed  the  Turk  ;  which  was  but  little  propitious  to  them.  The  other 
judges  were  passive,  and  meddled  little,  except  some  that  were  takers  in  also  ; 
and  particularly  the  good  Recorder  Treby,  who  eased  the  Attorney-General,  for 
he  seldom  asked  a  question  but  one  might  guess  he  foresaw  the  answer.  Some 
may  blame  the  (at  best)  passive  behavior  of  the  judges  ;  but  really,  considering 
it  was  impossible  to  stem  such  a  current,  the  appearing  to  do  it  in  vain  had  been 
more  unprofitable,  because  it  had  inflamed  the  great  and  small  rout,  drawn  scandal 
on  themselves,  and  disabled  them  from  taking  in  when  opportunity  should  be  more 
favorable.  The  prisoners,  under  these  hardships,  had  enough  to  do  to  make  any 
defense  :  for  where  the  testimony  was  positive  it  was  conclusive  ;  for  no  reasoning 
iit>  improbabili  would  serve  the  turn  ;  it  must  be  ab  impoasibili  or  not  at  all.  Who 


NOTES  TO  PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  593 

ever  doth  not  well  observe  the  power  of  judging  may  think  many  things  in  the 
course  of  justice  very  strange.  If  one  side  is  held  to  demonstration,  and  tlie  other 
allowed  presumptions  tov  proofs,  auy  cause  may  be  carried.  In  a  word,  anger, 
policy,  inhumanity,  and  prejudice  had,  at  this  time,  a  planetary  possession  of  the 
minds  of  most  men,  and  destroyed  in  them  that  golden  rule  of  doing  as  they 
would  be  done  unto  "  [pp.  ''95,  20ij]. 

In  another  passage  Oate^i's  personal  appearance  is  thus  described  :— "  He  was 
a  low  man,  of  an  ill  cut,  ''^ery  short  neck,  and  his  visage  and  features  were  most 
particular.  His  mouth  was  the  center  of  his  face  ;  and  a  compass  there  would 
sweep  his  nose,  forehead,  and  chin  within  the  perimeter.  Cave  quos  ipse  Deus 
notdvit.  In  a  word,  he  was  a  most  consummate  cheat,  blasphemer,  vicious,  per- 
jured, impudent,  and  saucy,  foul-mouth''d  wretch  ;  and  were  it  not  for  the  truth 
of  history,  and  the  great  emotions  in  the  public  he  was  the  cause  of,  not  fit  (so 
little  deserving)  to  be  remembered  "  [p.  225] 

Note  18. — Narratives  of  the  Plot,  p.  242 

There  is  no  more  odious  feature  of  this  detestable  plot  than  that  the  forsworn 
witnesses,  by  whose  oaths  the  fraud  was  supported,  claimed  a  sort  of  literary  in- 
terest in  their  own  fabrications  by  publications  under  such  titles  as  the  follow- 
ing -.—A  Narrative  and  Jmpartial  Discovery  of  the  Horrid  Popish  Plot,  carried 
on  for  Burning  and  Destroying  the  Cities  of  London  and  Westminster,  with  their 
Suburbs,  setting  forth  the  several  Councils,  Orders,  and  Resolutions  of  the  Jesuits 
concerning  the  same,  by  (a  Person  so  and  so  named),  lately  engaged  in  that  Hor- 
rid Design,  and  one  of  the  Popish  Committee  for  carrying  on  such  Fires. 

At  any  other  period.-  it  would  have  appeared  equally  unjust  and  illegal  to 
poison  the  public  mind  with  stuff  of  this  kind  before  the  witnesses  had  made 
their  depositions  in  open  court.  But  in  this  moment  of  frenzy  everything  which 
could  confirm  the  existence  of  these  senseless  delusions  was  eagerly  listened 
to  ;  and  whatever  seemed  to  infer  doubt  of  the  witnesses,  or  hesitation  concern- 
ing the  existence  of  the  plot,  was  a  stifling,  strangling,  or  undervaluing  the  dis- 
covery of  the  grand  conspiracy.    In  short,  as  expressed  by  Dry  den, 

'Twas  worse  than  plotting  to  suspect  the  plot. 
Note  19.— Richard  Ganlesse,  p.  245 

It  will  be  afterwards  found  tliat  in  the  supposed  Richard  Ganlesse  is  first  in- 
troduced into  the  story  the  detestable  Edwai'd  Christian,  a  character  with  as 
few  redeeming  good  qualities  as  the  Author's  too  prolific  pencil  has  ever  at- 
tempted to  draw.  He  is  a  mere  creature  of  the  imagination ;  and  although  he 
may  receive  some  dignity  of  character  from  his  talents,  courage,  and  influence 
over  otheis,  he  is.  in  other  respects,  a  moral  monster,  since  even  his  affection 
for  his  brother,  and  resentment  of  his  death,  are  grounded  on  vindictive  feel- 
ings, which  scruple  at  no  means,  even  the  foulest,  for  their  gratification.  The 
Author  will  be  readily  believed  when  he  affirms  that  no  original  of  the  present 
times,  or  those  whicli  preceded  them,  has  given  the  outline  for  a  character  so 
odious.  The  personage  is  a  mere  fancy  piece.  In  particular,  the  Author  dis- 
claims all  allusion  to  a  gentleman  named  Edward  Christian,  who  actually  ex- 
isted during  those  troublesome  times,  was  brother  of  William  Christian',  the 
dempster,  and  died  in  prison  in  the  Isle  of  Man.  With  this  unfortunate  gentle- 
man the  character  in  the  novel  has  not  the  slightest  connection,  nor  do  the  in- 
cidents of  their  lives  in  any  respect  agree.  There  existed,  as  already  stated,  an 
Edward  Christian  of  the  period,  who  was  capable  of  very  bad  things,  since  he 
was  a  companion  and  associate  of  the  robber  Thomas  Blood,  and  convicted  along 
with  him  of  a  conspiracy  against  the  celebrated  Duke  of  Buckingham.  This 
character  was  probably  not  unlike  that  of  his  namesake  in  the  novel,  at  least 
the  feats  ascribed  to  him  are  haud  aliena  a  Scoevolce  studiis.  But  Mr.  Christian 
of  Unwin  [Unrigg  or  Ewanrigg],  if  there  existed  a  rogue  of  his  name  during 
that  period  of  general  corruption,  has  the  more  right  to  have  him  distinguished 
'rom  his  unfortunate  relative,  who  died  in  prison  before  the  period  mentioned. 

Note  20.— Cutlar  MacCulloch,  p.  250 

This  alludes  to  a  singular  custom  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  northern  coast  of 
the  Isle  of  Man,  who  used  of  old  to  eat  the  sodden  meat  before  they  supped  the 
broth,  lest,  it  is  said,  they  should  be  deprived  of  the  more  substantial  part  of 
the  meal,  if  they  waited  to  eat  it  at  the  second  course. 

They  account  for  this  anomaly  in  the  following  manner : — About  the  com- 
mencement of  the  16th  century,  the  Earl  of  Derby,  being  a  fiery  young  chief, 
fond  of  war  and  honor,  m^de  a  furious  inroad,  with  all  his  forces,  into  the 


594  NOTES  TO  PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

Stewartry  of  Kirkcudbright,  and  committed  great  ravages,  still  remembered 
in  Manx  song.  Mr.  Train,  with  his  usual  kindness,  sent  me  the  following  literal 
translation  of  the  verses  : 

There  came  Thomas  Derby,  born  king. 

He  it  was  who  wore  the  golden  crupper  ; 
There  was  not  one  lord  in  wide  England  itself 

With  so  many  vassals  as  he  had. 

On  Scottishmen  he  avenged  himself : 

He  went  over  to  Kirkcudbright, 
And  there  made  such  havoc  of  houses, 

That  some  are  uninhabitable  to  this  day. 

Was  not  that  fair  in  a  youth, 

To  avenge  himself  on  his  foe  while  he  was  so  young, 
Before  his  beard  had  grown  around  his  mouth. 

And  to  bring  home  his  men  in  safety  ? 

This  incursion  of  the  earl  with  the  golden  crupper  was  severely  revenged. 
The  gentleman  of  the  name  of  MacCulloch,  a  clan  then  and  now  powerful  in 
Galloway,  had  at  their  head,  at  the  time,  a  chief  of  courage  and  activity,  named 
Cutlar  MacCulloch.  He  was  an  excellent  seaman,  and  speedily  equipped  a 
predatory  flotilla,  with  which  he  made  repeated  descents  on  the  northern  shores 
of  the  Isle  of  Man,  the  dominions  of  the  Earl  of  Derby,  carrying  off  all  that  was 
not,  in  the  Border  phrase,  too  hot  or  too  heavy. 

The  following  is  the  deposition  of  John  Machariotie  concerning  the  losses  he 
had  suffered  by  this  sea-king  and  his  Galloway  men.  It  is  dated  at  Peel  Castle, 
"  Taken  by  Collard  MacCulloch  and  his  men  by  wrongious  spoliation.  Twa  box 
beddes  and  aykin  burdis,  i  c  laths,  a  feder  bouster,  a  cote  of  mailzie,  a  mete 
burde,  twa  kystis,  five  barrils,  a  gyle-fat,  xx  pipes,  twa  gunys,  three  bolls  of 
malt,  a  querne  of  rosate  of  vi  stane,  certain  petes  [peats],  extending  to  i  c  load, 
viii  bollis  of  threschit  corn,  xii  unthraschin,  and  xl  knowte."— Chstloner,  p.  47, 
edit.  London,  1653. 

This  active  rover  rendered  his  name  so  formidable,  that  the  custom  of  eating 
the  meat  before  the  broth  was  introduced  by  the  islanders,  whose  festivals  he 
often  interrupted.    They  also  remembered  him  in  their  prayers  and  graces  ;  as, 

God  keep  the  bouse  an4  all  within, 
From  Cut  MacCuUochi  and  his  kin  ; 

or,  as  I  have  heard  it  recited, 

God  keep  the  good  corn,  and  the  sheep,  and  the  bullock, 
From  Satan,  from  sin,  and  from  Cutlar  MacCulloch. 

It  is  said  to  have  chanced,  as  the  master  of  the  house  had  uttered  one  of  these 
popular  benisons,  that  Cutlar  in  person  entered  the  habitation  with  this  reply  : 

Gudeman,  gudeman,  ye  pray  too  late, 
MacCulloch' s  ships  are  at  the  Yaite. 

The  Yaite  is  a  well-known  landing-place  on  the  north  side  of  the  Isle  of  Man. 

This  redoubted  corsair  is,  I  believe,  now  represented  by  the  chief  of  the  name, 
James  McCulloch,  Esq.,  of  Ardwell,  the  Author's  friend  and  near  connection. 

Note  31.— Corrkspondknck  of  Coleman,  p.  252 

The  unfortunate  Coleman,  executed  for  the  Popish  Plot,  was  secretary  to  the 
late  Duchess  of  York,  and  had  been  a  correspondent  of  the  French  king's  con- 
fessor, P6re  la  Chaise.  Their  correspondence  was  seized,  and  although  the  papers 
contained  nothing  to  confirm  the  monstrous  fictions  of  the  accusers,  yet  there 
was  a  great  deal  to  show  that  he  and  other  zealous  Catholics  anxiously  sought 
for  and  desired  to  find  the  means  to  bring  back  England  to  the  faith  of  Rome. 
"  It  is  certain,"  says  Hume,  "  that  the  restless  and  enterprising  spirit  of  the 
Catholic  Church,  particularly  of  the  Jesuits,  merits  attention,  and  is  in  some 
degree  dangerous  to  every  other  communion.  Such  zeal  of  proselytism  actuates 
that  sect,  that  its  missionaries  have  penetrated  into  every  region  of  the  globe, 
and  in  one  sense  there  is  a  Popish  plot  continually  carrying  on  against  all  states, 
Protestant,  Pagan,  t^d  ^s^homet^U-*'— History  of  ffngland,  vol.  vii.  p.  72,  edit. 
J797. 


NOTES  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  695 

Note  22.— Funeral  Service  of  Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey,  p.  252 

This  solemnity  is  especially  mentioned  by  North.  "  The  crowd  was  prodigious, 
both  at  the  procession  and  in  and  about  the  church,  and  so  heated,  that  any- 
thing called  Papist,  were  it  a  cat  or  a  dog,  had  probably  gone  to  pieces  in  a  mo- 
ment. The  Catholics  all  'lept  close  in  their  houses  and  lodgings,  thinking  it  a 
good  composition  to  be  safe  there,  so  far  were  they  from  acting  violently  at  that 
time.  But  there  was  all  this  while  upheld  among  the  common  people  an  artifi- 
cial fright,  so  as  almost  every  one  fancied  a  Popish  knife  just  at  his  throat ;  and 
at  the  sermon,  besides  the  preacher,  two  other  thumping  divines  stood  upright 
in  the  pulpit  .  .  .  to  guard  nim  from  being  killed,  while  he  was  preaching,  by  the 
Papists.  1  did  not  see  this  specter,  but  was  credibly  told  by  some  that  affirmed 
they  did  see  it,  and  I  .  .  .  never  met  with  any  that   ever  contradicted  it.    A  most 

f)ortentous  spectacle,  sure,  three  parsons  in  one  pulpit  1  Enough  of  itself,  on  a 
ess  occasion,  to  excite  terror  in  the  audience.  The  like,  I  guess,  was  never  seen 
before,  and  probably  will  never  be  seen  again  ;  and  it  bad  not  been  so  now,  as  is 
most  evident,  but  for  some  stratagem  derived  upon  the  impetuosity  of  the  mob." 
— Examen^  p.  204. 

It  may  be,  however,  remarked,  that  the  singular  circumstance  of  Sir  Edmonds- 
bury  Godfrey,  the  justice  before  whom  Gates  had  made  his  deposition,  being 
found  murdered,  was  the  incident  upon  which  most  men  relied  as  complete  proof 
of  the  existence  of  the  plot.  As  he  was  believed  to  have  lost  his  life  by  the  Pa- 
pists, for  having  taken  Gates's  deposition,  the  panic  spread  with  inconceivable 
rapidity,  and  every  species  of  horror  was  apprehended— every  report,  the  more 
absurd  the  better,  eagerly  listened  to  and  believed.  Whether  this  unfortunate 
gentleman  lost  his  life  by  Papist  or  Protestant,  by  private  enemies  or  by  his  own 
hand,  for  he  was  a  low -spirited  and  melancholy  man,  will  probably  never  be  dis- 
covered. 

Note  23.— Dun  the  Hangman,  p.  253 

Dun  was  the  hangman  of  the  day  at  Tyburn.  He  was  successor  of  Gregory 
Brunden,  who  was  by  many  believed  to  be  the  same  wtio  dropped  the  ax  upon 
Charles  I.,  though  others  were  suspected  of  being  the  actual  regicide. 

Note  24.— First  Check  to  the  Plot,  p.  308 

The  first  check  received  by  Doctor  Gates  and  his  colleagues  in  the  task  of  sup- 
porting the  Plot  by  their  testimony  was  in  this  manner  :  After  a  good  deal  of 
prevarication,  the  prime  witness  at  length  made  a  direct  charge  against  Sir  George 
Wakeman,  the  Queen's  physician,  of  an  attempt  to  poison  the  King,  and  even 
connected  the  Queen  with  this  accusation,  whom  he  represented  as  Wakeman's 
accomplice.  This  last  piece  of  effrontery  recalled  the  King  to  some  generous 
sentiments.  "  The  villains,"  said  Charles,  ''  think  I  am  tired  of  my  wife  ;  but 
they  shall  find  I  will  not  permit  an  innocent  woman  to  be  persecuted."  Scroggs, 
the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  accordingly  received  instructions  to  be  favorable  to  the 
accused  ;  and,  for  the  first  time,  he  was  so.  Wakeman  was  acquitted,  but 
thought  it  more  for  his  safety  to  retire  abroad.  His  acquittal,  however,  indi- 
cated a  turn  of  the  tide,  which  had  so  long  set  in  favor  of  the  Plot,  and  of  the 
witnesses  by  whom  it  had  hitherto  been  supported. 

Note  25.— Rochester's  Epitaph  on  Charles  II.,  p.  309 

The  epitaph  alluded  to  is  the  celebrated  epigram  made  by  Rochester  on 
Charles  II.  It  was  composed  at  the  King's  request,  who  nevertheless  resented 
its  poignancy. 

The  lines  are  well  known  : — 

Here  lies  our  sovereign  lord  the  King 

Whose  word  no  man  relies  on  ; 
Who  never  said  a  foolish  thing, 

And  never  did  a  wise  one. 

Note  26.— Great  Madam,  p.  309 

The  Duchess  of  Portsmouth,  Charles  II. 's  favorite  mistress,  very  unpopular  at 
the  time  of  the  Popish  Plot,  as  well  from  her  religion  as  her  country,  being  a 
Frenchwoman  and  a  Catholic. 

Note  27.— Elbjlnah  Settle,  p.  326 

Elkanah  Settle,  the  unworthy  scribbler  whom  the  envy  of  Rochester  and  others 
tried  to  raise  to  public  estimation  as  a  rival  to  Dryden,  a  circumstance  which  has 
been  the  means  of  elevatftig  him  to  a  very  painful  species  of  immortality. 


596  N0TE8  TO  PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PtSAK 

Note  28.— Empixjymknt  op  Assassins  in  England,  p.  327 

It  was  the  unworthy  distinction  of  men  of  wit  and  honor  about  town  to  revenge 
their  own  quarrels  with  inferior  persons  by  the  hands  of  bravoes.  Even  in  the 
days  of  chivalry,  the  knights,  as  may  be  learned  from  Don  Quixote,  turned  over 
to  the  chastisement  of  their  squires  such  adversaries  as  were  not  dubb'd  ;  and 
thus  it  was  not  unusual  for  men  of  quality  in  Charles  II. 's  time  to  avenge  their 
wrongs  by  means  of  private  assassination.  Rochester  writes  composedly  con- 
cerning a  satire  imputed  to  Dryden,  but  in  reality  composed  by  Mulgrave,  "  If  he 
fails  upon  me  with  the  blunt,  which  is  his  very  good  weapon  in  wit,  I  will  forgive 
him,  if  you  please,  and  leave  the  repartee  to  Black  Will  with  a  cudgel."  And,  in 
conformity  with  this  cowardly  and  brutal  intimation,  that  distinguished  poet  was 
waylaid  and  beaten  severely  in  Rose  Street,  Covent  Garden,  by  ruffians  who  could 
not  be  discovered,  but  whom  all  concluded  to  be  the  agents  of  Rochester's  mean 
revenge. 

Note  29.— Earl  op  Arlington,  p.  329 

Bennet,  Earl  of  Arlington,  was  one  of  Charles' smost  attached  courtiers  during 
his  exile.  After  the  Restoration,  he  was  employed  in  the  ministry,  and  the  name 
of  Bennett  supplies  its  initial  B  to  the  celerated  word  Cabal.  But  the  King  was 
supposed  to  have  lost  respect  for  him ;  and  several  persons  at  court  took  the 
liberty  to  mimic  his  person  and  behavior,  which  was  stiff  and  formal.  Thus  it 
was  a  common  jest  for  some  courtier  to  put  a  black  patch  on  his  nose  and  strutt 
about  with  a  white  staff  in  his  hand,  to  make  the  King  merry.  But,  notwith- 
standing, he  retained  his  office  of  Lord  Chamberlain  and  his  seat  in  the  privy 
council  till  his  death  in  1685. 

Note  30.— Buckingham's  Father-in-Law,  p.  329 

Mary,  daughter  of  Thomas  Lord  Fairfax,  was  wedded  to  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, whose  versatility  rendered  him  as  capable  for  a  time  of  rendering  himself 
agreeable  to  his  father-in-law,  though  a  rigid  Presbyterian,  as  to  the  gay 
Charles  II. 

Note  31.— Letter  prom  the  Dead  to  the  Living,  p.  333 

The  application  of  the  very  respectable  old  English  name  of  Jerningham  to 
the  valet-de-chambre  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  has  proved  of  force  sufficient 
to  wake  the  resentment  of  the  dead,  who  had  in  early  days  worn  that  illustrious 
surname  ;  for  the  Author  received  by  post  the  following  expostulation  on  the 
subject  :— 

To  the  learned  Clerk  and  worshipful  Knight,  Sir  Walter  Scott,  give  these  : 

"  Mye  mortal  frame  has  long  since  mouldered  into  dust,  and  the  young  sap- 
linge  that  was  planted  on  the  daye  of  mye  funeral  is  now  a  doddered  oak,  stand- 
inge  hard  bye  the  mansion  of  the  familie.  The  windes  doe  whistle  thro'  its  leaves, 
moauinge  among  its  moss-covered  branches,  and  awakeninge  in  the  soules  of  my 
descendants  that  pensive  Melancholy  which  leads  back  to  the  contemplating 
those  that  are  gone  !  I,  who  was  once  the  courtly  dame,  that  held  high  revelry 
in  these  gaye  bowers,  am  now  light  as  the  blast  1 

"  If  I  essaye,  from  vain  affection,  to  make  my  name  be  thought  of  by  produc- 
ing the  noise  of  rustlinge  silkes,  or  the  slow  tread  of  a  midnight  foot  along  the 
chapel  floor,  alas  !  I  only  scare  the  simple  maidens,  and  mye  wearie  efforts  (how 
wearie  none  alive  can  tell)  are  derided  and  jeered  at  by  mye  knightlie  descend- 
ants. Once  indeed— but  it  boots  not  to  burthen  your  ear  with  this  particular,  nor 
why  I  am  still  sad  and  aching,  between  earth  and  heaven  !  Know  only,  that  I 
still  walk  this  place,  as  mye  playmate,  your  great-grand-mother,  does  hers.  I  sit 
in  my  wonted  chair,  tho'  now  it  stands  in  a  dusty  garret.  I  frequent  my  ladye's 
room,  and  I  have  hushed  her  wailinge  babes,  when  all  the  cunning  of  the  nurse 
has  failed.  I  sit  at  the  window  where  so  long  a  succession  of  honorable  dames 
have  presided  their  daye,  and  are  passed  away.  But  in  the  change  that  centuries 
brought,  honor  and  truth  have  remained ;  and,  as  adherents  to  King  Harry's 
eldest  daughter,  as  true  subjects  to  her  successors,  as  faithful  followers  of  the 
unfortunate  Charles  and  his  posteritie,  and  as  loyal  and  attached  servauntes  of 
the  present  royal  stock,  the  name  of  Jerningham  has  ever  remained  unsullied  in 
honour,  and  uncontaminated  in  aught  unfytting  its  ancient  knightlie  origin.  You, 
noble  and  learned  sir,  whose  quill  is  as  the  trumpet  arousinge  the  slumberinge 
soule  to  feelings  of  loftie  chivalrie— you.  Sir  Knight,  who  feel  and  doe  honor  to 
your  noble  lineage,  wherefore  did  you  say,  in  your  chronicle  of  historic  of  the 
brave  knt,  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  that  my  lord  of  Buckingham's  servaunte  was  a 
JerniQgham  ?  a  vile  varlet  to  a^viler  noble  !    Many  honourable  families  have  in- 


NOTES  TO  PEVEHIL  OF  THE  PEAK  bd'x 

fleed,  shot  and  spread  from  the  parent  stock  into  wilde  entangled  mazes,  and 
reached  perchance  beyond  the  confines  of  gentle  blood  ;  but  it  so  pleased  Provi- 
dence, that  mye  worshipful  husband,  good  Sir  Harry's  line,  has  flowed  in  one 
confined  but  clear  deep  stream  down  to  mye  well-beloued  son,  the  present  Sir 
George  Jerningham,  by  just  claim  Lorde  Stafforde  ;  and  if  any  of  your  courtly 
ancestors  that  hover  round  your  bed  could  speak,  they  would  tell  you  that  the 
duke's  valet  was  not  Jerningham,  but  Sayer  or  Sims.  Act  as  you  shall  think 
mete  hereon,  but  defend  the  honoured  names  of  those  whose  champion  you  so 
well  deserve  to  be.  J.  Jerningham." 

Having  no  mode  of  knowing  how  to  reply  to  this  ancient  dignitary,  I  am  com- 
pelled to  lay  the  blame  of  my  error  upon  wicked  example,  which  has  misled  me  ; 
and  to  plead  that  I  should  never  have  been  guilty  of  so  great  a  misnomer,  but 
for  the  authority  of  one  Oliver  Goldsmith,  who,  in  an  elegant  dialogue  between 
the  Lady  Blarney  and  Miss  Carolina  Wilhelmina  Amelia  Skeggs,  makes  the 
former  assure  Miss  Skeggs  as  a  fact  that  "  the  next  morning  my  lord  duke  called 
out  three  times  to  his  valet-de-chambre,  '  Jernigan— Jernigan— Jernigan  !  biung 
me  my  garters '  "  Some  inaccurate  recollection  of  this  passage  has  occasioned 
the  offense  rendered,  for  which  I  make  this  imperfect,  yet  respectful,  apology. 

Note  32.— Silk  Armour,  p.  383 

Roger  North  gives  us  a  ridiculous  description  of  these  warlike  habiliments 
when  talking  of  the  Whig  Club  in  Fuller's  Rents.  '*  The  conversation  and  ordi- 
ary  discourse  of  the  club  was  chiefly  upon  the  subject  of  braveur  in  defending 
the  cause  of  liberty  and  property,  and  what  every  true  Protestant  and  English- 
man ought  to  venture  and  do,  rather  than  be  overrun  with  Popery  and  slavery. 
There  was  much  recommendation  of  silk  armour,  and  the  prudence  of  being  pro- 
vided with  it,  against  the  time  that  Protestants  were  to  be  massacred  ;  and  ac- 
cordingly there  were  abundance  of  those  silken  backs,  breasts,  and  potts  (i.e. 
head-pieces)  made  and  sold,  that  were  pretended  to  be  pistol  proof,  in  which  any 
man  dressed  up  was  as  safe  as  in  an  house  ;  for  it  was  impossible  any  one  could 
go  to  strike  him  for  laughing,  so  ridiculous  was  the  figure,  as  they  say,  of  hogs 
in  armour— an  image  of  derision  insensible  but  to  the  view,  as  I  have  had  it  (viz. 
that  none  can  imagine  without  seeing  it,  as  I  have).  This  was  armor  of  defense, 
but  our  sparks  were  not  altogether  so  tame  as  to  carry  their  provision  no  farther  ; 
for  truly  they  intended  to  be  assailants  upon  fair  occasion,  and  had  for  that  end 
recommended  to  them  a  certain  pocket  weapon,  which,  for  its  design  and  efficacy, 
had  the  honor  to  be  called  a  Protestant  flail.  It  was  for  street  and  croud  work, 
and  the  engine,  lurking  perdue  in  a  coat-pocket,  might  readily  sally  out  to  exe- 
cution, and  so,  by  clearing  a  great  hall,  or  piazza,  or  so,  carry  an  election  by  a 
choice  way  of  polling,  called  '  knocking  down.'  The  handle  resembled  a  farrier's 
blood-stick,  and  the  fall  was  joined  to  the  end  by  a  strong  nervous  ligature,  that 
in  its  swing  fell  just  short  of  the  hand,  and  was  made  of  lignum  vitoe,  or  rather, 
as  the  poet  termed  it,  mortis.''^~Examen,  pp.  572,  573. 

This  last  weapon  will  remind  the  reader  of  the  blood-stick  so  cruelly  used,  as 
was  alleged,  in  a  murder  committed  in  England  some  years  ago,  and  for  a  partic- 
ipation in  which  two  persons  were  tried  and  acquitted  at  the  assizes  of  autumn 

Note  33.— Geoffrey  Hudson,  p.  392 

Geoffrey  or  Jeffrey  Hudson  is  often  mentioned  in  anecdotes  of  Charles  I.'s  time. 
His  first  appearance  at  court  was  his  being  presented,  as  mentioned  in  the  text, 
in  a  pie,  at  an  entertainment  given  by  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  to  Charles  I.  and 
Henrietta  Maria.  Upon  the  same  occasion,  the  Duke  presented  the  tenant  of  the 
pasty  to  the  Queen,  who  retained  him  as  her  page.  When  about  eight  years  of 
age,  he  was  but  eighteen  or  twenty  inches  high  ;  and  remained  stationary  at 
that  stature  till  he  was  thirty  years  old,  when  he  grew  to  the  height  of  three  feet 
nine  inches,  and  there  stopped. 

This  singular  lusus  naturce  was  trusted  in  some  negotiations  of  consequence. 
He  went  to  France  to  fetch  over  a  midwife  to  his  mistress,  Henrietta  Maria.  On 
his  return,  he  was  taken  by  Dunkirk  privateers,  when  he  lost  many  valuable 

{)resents  sent  to  the  Queen  from  France  and  about  £2,500  of  his  own.  Sir  Wil- 
iam  Davenant  makes  a  real  or  supposed  combat  between  the  dwarf  and  a  turkey- 
cock  the  subject  of  a  poem  called  Jeffreidos.  The  scene  is  laid  at  Dunkirk, 
where,  as  the  satire  concludes— 

Jeffrey  strait  was  thrown,  when,  faint  and  weak. 
The  cruel  fowl  assaults  him  with  his  beak. 
A  lady  midwife  now  he  there  by  chance 
Espied,  that  came  along  with  him  from  France. 


598  NOTES  TO  FEYERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

"  A  heart  brought  up  in  war,  that  ne'er  before 
This  time  could  bow,"  he  said,  "  doth  now  implore 
Thou,  that  delivered  hast  so  many,  be 
So  kind  of  nature  as  deliver  me." 

We  are  not  acquainted  how  far  Jeffrey  resented  this  lampoon.  But  we  are 
assured  he  was  a  consequential  personage,  and  endured  with  little  temper  the 
teasing  of  the  domestics  and  courtiers,  and  had  many  squabbles  with  the  King's 
gigantic  porter. 

The  fatal  duel  with  Mr.  Crofts  actually  took  place,  as  mentioned  in  the  text. 
It  happened  in  France.  The  poor  dwarf  had  also  the  misfortune  to  be  taken 
prisoner  by  a  Turkish  pirate.  He  was,  however,  probably  soon  set  at  liberty,  for 
Hudson  was  a  captain  for  the  King  during  the  civil  war.  In  1644  the  dwarf  at- 
tended his  royal  mistress  to  France.  The  Restoration  recalled  him,  with  other 
royalists,  to  England.  But  this  poor  being,  who  received,  it  would  seem,  hard 
measure  both  from  nature  and  fortune,  was  not  doomed  to  close  his  days  in 
peace.  Poor  Jeffrey,  upon  some  suspicion  respecting  the  Popish  Plot,  was  taken 
up  in  1682,  and  confined  in  the  Gatehouse  prison,  Westminster  where  he  ended 
his  life  in  the  sixty-third  year  of  his  age. 

Jeffrey  Hudson  has  been  immortalized  by  the  brush  of  Vandyke,  and  his 
clothes  are  said  to  be  preserved  as  articles  of  curiosity  in  Sir  Hans  Sloane's 
Museum. 

Note  84.— Coventry's  Act,  p.  432 

The  ill-usage  of  Sir  John  Coventry  by  some  of  the  Life  Guardsmen  in  revenge 
of  something  said  in  Parliament  concerning  the  King's  theatrical  amours,  gave 
rise  to  what  was  called  Coventry's  Act,  against  cutting  and  maiming  the  person. 

Note  35.— Colonel  Blood's  Narrative,  p.  441 

Of  Blood's  Narrative,  Roger  North  takes  the  following  notice : — "  There  was 
another  sham  plot  of  one  Nettervile.  .  .  .  And  here  the  good  Colonel  Blood— that 
stole  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  and,  if  a  timely  rescue  had  not  come  in,  had  hanged 
him  at  Tyburn,  and  afterwards  stole  the  crown,  though  he  was  not  so  happy  as 
to  carry  it  off— no  player  at  small  games  ;  he,  even  he,  the  virtuous  colonel,  as 
this  sham  plot  says,  was  to  have  been  destroyed  by  the  Papists.  It  seems  these 
Papists  would  let  no  eminent  Protestant  be  safe.  But  some  amends  were  made 
the  colonel  by  sale  of  the  narrative,  licensed  Thomas  Blood.  It  had  been  strange 
if  so  much  mischief  had  been  stirring,  and  he  had  not  come  in  for  a  snack." 
—Examen,  edit.  1740,  p.  811. 

Note  86.— Stock  Jobbing,  p.  444 

Stock-jobbing,  as  it  is  called,  that  is,  dealing  in  shares  of  monopolies,  patents, 
and  joint-stock  companies  of  every  description,  was  at  least  as  common  in 
Charles  II. 's  time  as  our  own  ;  and  as  the  exercise  of  ingenuity  in  this  wav 
promised  a  road  to  wealth  without  the  necessity  of  industry,  it  was  then  much 
pursued  by  dissolute  courtiers. 

Note  37.— Hurrj.ed  Departure,  p.  451. 

This  case  is  not  without  precedent.  Among  the  jealousies  and  fears  expressed 
by  the  Long  Parliament,  they  insisted  much  upon  an  agent  for  the  King  depart- 
ing for  the  Continent  so  abruptly  that  he  had  not  time  to  change  his  court  dress 
—white  buskins,  to  wit,  and  black  silk  pantaloons— for  an  equipment  more  suit- 
able to  travel  with. 

Note  88.— Mistress  Nelly,  p.  460 

In  Evelyn's  Memoirs  is  the  following  curious  passage  respecting  Nell  Gwyn, 
who  is  hinted  at  in  the  text :— "  I  walked  with  him  [King  Charles  II.]  through  -*™ 
St.  James's  Park  to  the  garden,  where  I  both  saw  and  heard  a  very  familiar  dis- 
course between  .  .  .  [the  King]  and  Mrs.  Nelly,  as  they  called  an  impudent 
comedian,  she  looking  out  of  her  garden  on  a  terrace  at  the  top  of  the  wall,  and 
[the  King]  standing  on  the  green  Wftlk  under  it.  I  was  heartily  sorry  at  this 
scene."— Vol.  i.  p.  418. 


JfOTUS  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  599 

Note  89.— Colonel  Blood,  p.  466 

The  conspirator  Blood  even  fought  or  made  his  way  into  good  society,  and  sat 
at  good  men's  feasts.  Evelyn's  Diary  bears,  10th  May  1671  :— "  Dined  at  Mr. 
Treasurer's,  in  company  with  Monsieur  de  Grammont  and  several  French  noble- 
men, and  one  Blood,  that  impudent,  bold  fellow,  who  had  not  long  before  at- 
tempted to  steal  the  Imperial  crown  itself  out  of  the  Tower,  pretending  only 
curiosity  of  seeing  the  regalia  there,  when,  stabbing  the  keeper,  though  not 
mortally,  he  boldly  went  away  with  it  through  all  the  guards,  taken  only  oy  the 
accident  of  his  horse  falling  down.  How  he  came  to  be  pardoned,  and  even 
received  into  favor,  not  only  after  this,  but  several  other  exploits  almost  as  dar- 
ing, both  in  Ireland  and  here  I  could  never  come  to  understand.  Some  believed 
he  became  a  spy  of  several  parties,  being  well  with  the  sectaries  and  enthusiasts, 
and  did  his  Majesty  services  that  way,  which  none  alive  could  do  so  well  as  he. 
But  it  was  certainly  the  boldest  attempt,  so  the  only  treason  of  this  sort  that 
was  ever  pardoned.  This  man  had  not  only  a  daring,  but  a  villainous,  unmerci- 
ful look,  a  false  countenance,  but  very  well  spoken  and  dangerously  insinuat- 
ing."—Evelyn's  Memoirs,  vol.  i.  p.  413. 

This  is  one  of  the  many  occasions  on  which  we  might  make  curious  remarks  on 
the  disregard  of  our  forefathers  for  appearance,  even  in  the  regulation  of 
society.  What  should  we  think  of  a  Lord  of  the  Treasury  who,  to  make  up  a 
party  of  French  nobles  and  English  gentlemen  of  condition,  should  invite  as  a 
guest  Barrington  or  Major  Semple,  or  any  well-known  chevalier  dHndtistrie  f 
Yet  Evelyn  does  not  seem  to  have  been  shocked  at  the  man  being  brought  into 
society,  but  only  at  his  remaining  unhanged. 

Note  40.— Oates's  Evidence,  p.  478 

It  was  on  such  terms  that  Dr.  Gates  was  pleased  to  claim  the  extraordinary 
privilege  of  dealing  out  the  information  which  he  chose  to  communicate  to  a 
court  of  justice.  The  only  sense  in  which  his  story  of  the  fox,  stone,  and  goose 
could  be  applicable  is  by  supposing,  that  he  was  determined  to  ascertain  the 
extent  of  his  countrymen's  credulity  before  supplying  it  with  a  full  meal. 

Note  41.— Venner's  Insurrection,  p.  496 

This  insurrection  took  place  in  1660.  Those  engaged  in  it  believed  themselves 
invulnerable  and  invincible.  They  proclaimed  the  Millennium,  and  disturbed 
London  greatly.  The  day  after  their  mad  rebellion  they  were  put  down  and 
subdued ;  and  their  leaders,  not  having  the  good  fortune  to  be  convicted  as 
madmen,  were  tried  and  punished  as  traitors. — 

This  alludes  to  the  insurrection  under  Thomas  Venner,  in  January  1660-61. 
Venner,  and  other  prisoners,  being  tried  and  condemned,  were  sentenced  to  be 
hanged,  drawn,  and  quartered,  and  their  heads  set  on  London  Bridge  (Laing). 

Note  42,— Mother  Cresswell,  p.  501 

Mother  Cresswell,  an  infamous  and  noted  procuress.  The  funeral  oration 
given  in  the  text  was  probably  taken  from  Granger's  Biographical  History 
(Charles  II.  chap,  xii.),  who  states  that  she  left  by  will  £10  to  a  preacher,  who 
should  officiate  at  her  funeral,  provided  he  should  say  nothing  but  what  was 
well  of  her.  With  some  difficulty  a  preacher  was  found,  who  used  words  similar 
to  those  put  into  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's  mouth  (Laing). 

Note  43.— Thomas  Armstrong,  p.  507 

Thomas,  or  Sir  Thomas,  Armstrong,  a  person  who  had  distinguished  himselt 
in  youth  by  duels  and  drunken  exploits.  He  was  particularly  connected  with 
the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  and  was  said  to  be  concerned  in  the  Rye-House  Plot« 
for  which  he  suffered  capital  punishment,  20th  June  1684. 

Note  44,— Charles's  Black  Periwig,  p.  508 

Charles,  to  suit  his  dark  complexion,  always  wore  a  black  peruke.  He  used 
to  say  of  the  players,  that  if  they  wished  to  represent  a  villain  on  the  stage, 
"  Odds-fish,  they  always  clapp'd  on  him  a  black  periwig,  whereas  the  greatest 
rogue  in  England  [meaning,  probably,  Dr.  Gates]  wears  a  white  one."— See  Gib- 
ber's Apology. 


800  not:e:s  to  peveril  of  the  peak 

Note  45.— Fuller's  Rents,  p.  509 

The  place  of  meeting  of  the  Green  Ribbon  Club.  Their  place  of  meeting,  says 
Roger  North,  "  was  in  a  sort  of  carfour  at  Chancery  Lane  end,  in  a  center  of 
business  and  company  most  proper  for  such  anglers  of  fools.  The  house  was 
double  balconied  in  the  front,  as  may  be  yet  seen,  for  the  clubsters  to  issue  forth 
in  fresco^  with  hats  and  no  peruques,  pipes  in  their  mouths,  merry  faces,  and 
diluted  throats  for  vocal  encouragement  of  the  canaglia  below  at  bonfires,  on 
usual  and  unusual  occasions  "  [p.  572]. 

Note  46.— The  Sheriffs  of  London,  p.  524 

It  can  hardly  be  forgotten  that  one  of  the  great  difficulties  of  Charles  II. 'g 
reign  was  to  obtain  for  the  crown  the  power  of  choosing  the  sheriffs  of  London. 
Roger  North  gives  a  lively  account  of  his  brother,  Sir  Dudley  North,  who  agreed 
to  serve  for  the  court.  ''  I  omit  the  share  he  had  in  composing  the  tumults 
about  burning  the  Pope,  because  that  is  accounted  for  in  the  Examen  and  the 
life  of  the  Lord  Keeper  North.  Neither  is  there  occasion  to  say  anything  of  the 
rise  and  discovery  of  the  Rye  Plot,  for  the  same  reason.  Nor  is  my  subject 
much  concerned  with  this  latter,  farther  than  that  the  conspirators  had  taken 
especial  care  of  Sir  Dudley  North.  For  he  was  one  of  those  who,  if  they  had 
succeeded,  was  to  have  been  knocked  on  the  head,  and  his  skin  to  be  stuffed 
and  hung  up  in  Guildhall.  But,  all  that  apart,  he  reckoned  it  a  great  unhappi 
ness  that  so  many  trials  for  high  treason,  and  executions,  should  happen  in  his 
year.  However,  in  these  affairs,  the  sheriffs  were  passive ;  for  all  returns  of 
panels,  and  other  despatches  of  the  law,  were  issued  and  done  by  under-offlcers, 
which  was  a  fair  screen  for  them.  They  attended  at  the  trials  and  executions, 
to  coerce  the  crowds  and  keep  order,  which  was  enough  for  them  to  do.  I  have 
heard  Sir  Dudley  North  say  that,  striking  with  his  cane,  he  wondered  to  see 
what  blows  his  countrymen  would  take  upon  their  bare  heads,  and  never  look 
up  at  it.  And,  indeed,  nothing  can  match  the  zeal  of  the  common  people  to  see 
executions.  The  worst  grievance  was  the  executioner  coming  to  him  for  orders 
touching  the  abscinded  members,  and  to  know  where  to  dispose  of  them.  Once, 
while  he  was  abroad,  a  cart,  with  some  of  them,  came  into  the  courtyard  of  his 
house,  and  frighted  his  lady  almost  out  of  her  wits  ;  and  she  could  never  be 
reconciled  to  the  dog  hangman's  saying  he  came  to  speak  with  his  master. 
These  are  inconveniences  that  attend  the  stations  of  public  magistracy,  and  are 
necessary  to  be  borne  with,  as  magistracy  itself  is  necessary.  I  have  now  no 
more  to  say  of  any  incidents  during  the  shrievalty  ;  but  that,  at  the  year's  end, 
he  delivered  up  his  charges  to  his  successors  in  like  manner  as  he  had  received 
them  from  his  predecessor ;  and,  having  reinstated  his  family,  he  lived  well  and 
easy  at  his  own  house,  as  he  did  before  these  disturbances  put  him  out  of  order." 
[Lives  of  the  Rt.  Hon.  Francis  Norths  etc.,  1826,  vol.  iii.  pp.  124, 12^ 

Note  47.— Geoffrey  Hudson  in  a  Pie,  p.  527 

Walpole  and  Granger  White  say  that  Geoffrey  Hudson,  when  seven  or  eight 
years  of  age,  was  served  up  to  table  in  a  cold  pie,  and  presented  to  the  Queen 
of  Charles  I. ;  and  on  another  occasion,  in  a  masque  at  court,  the  King's  gigan- 
tic porter  drew  the  dwarf  out  of  his  pocket,  to  the  surprise  of  all  the  spectators 
(Laing). 

Note  48. — Old  French  Song,  p.  532 

Brantome  tells  us  of  a  court  lady  who  chose  to  have  this  tune  played  when 
she  was  dying,  and  at  the  end  of  the  burden  repeated,  "  Oui,  tout  verlore  et  a 
bon  escient,"  and  therewith  expired.  [See  the  complete  passage  in  a  note  to 
The  Lady  of  the  Lake.} 

Note  49. — Acute  Senses  of  the  Blind,  p.  559 

This  littte  piece  of  superstition  was  suggested  by  the  following  Incident. 
The  Author  of  Waverly  happened  to  be  standing  by  with  other  gentlemen,  while 
the  captain  of  the  Selkirk  Yeomanry  was  purcnasing  a  horse  for  the  use  of  his 
trumpeter.  The  animal  offered  was  a  handsome  one,  and  neither  the  officer, 
who  was  an  excellent  jockey,  nor  any  one  present,  could  see  any  imperfection 
in  wind  or  limb.  But  a  person  happened  to  pass,  who  was  asked  to  give  an 
opinion.  This  man  was  called  Blind  Willie,  who  drove  a  small  trade  in  cattle 
and  horses,  and  what  seemed  as  extraordinary,  in  watches,  notwithstanding 
his  having  been  born  blind.  He  was  accounted  to  possess  a  rare  judgment  in 
these  subjects  of  traffic.  So  soon  as  he  had  examined  the  horse  in  question,  he 
immediately  pronounced  it  to  have  something  of  hia  own  complaint,  and,  in 


NOTES  TO  PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  601 

plain  TTords,  stated  it  to  be  blind,  or  verging  upon  that  iraperf action,  which  was 
round  to  be  the  case  on  close  examination.  None  pjresent  had  suspected  this 
fault  in  the  animal  ;  which  is  not  wonderful,  considering  that  it  may  frequently 
exist  without  any  appearance  in  the  organ  affected.  Blind  Willie,  being  asked 
how  he  made  a  discovery  imperceptible  to  so  many  gentlemen  who  had  their 
eyesight,  explained  that,  after  feeling  the  horse's  limbs,  he  laid  one  hand  on  its 
heart,  and  drew  the  other  briskly  across  the  animal's  eyes,  when,  finding  no  in- 
crease of  pulsation  in  consequence  of  the  latter  motion,  he  had  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  horse  must  be  blind. 

Note  50.— History  of  Colonel  Thomas  Blood,  p.  561 

This  person,  who  was  capable  of  framing  and  carrying  into  execution  the  most 
desperate  enterprises,  was  one  of  those  extraordinary  characters  who  can  only 
arise  amid  the  bloodshed,  confusion,  destruction  of  morality,  and  wide-spreading 
violence  which  take  place  during  civil  war.  The  arrangement  of  the  present 
volume  [said  of  the  first  collected  edition  in  48  vols.]  admitting  of  a  lengthened 
digression,  we  cannot,  perhaps  enter  upon  a  subject  more  extraordinary  or  enter- 
taining than  the  history  of  this  notorious  desperado,  who  exhibited  all  the  ele- 
ments of  a  most  accomplished  ruffian.  As  the  account  of  these  adventures  is 
scattered  in  various  and  scarce  publications,  it  will  probably  be  a  service  to  the 
reader  to  bring  the  most  remarkable  of  them  under  his  eye,  in  a  simultaneous 
point  of  view. 

Blood's  father  is  reported  to  have  been  a  blacksmith  ;  but  this  was  only  a  dis- 
paraging mode  of  describing  a  person  who  had  a  concern  in  iron-works,  and  had 
thus  acquired  independence.  He  entered  early  in  life  into  the  Civil  War,  served 
as  a  lieutenant  in  the  Parliament  forces,  and  was  put  by  Henry  Cromwell,  Lord 
Deputy  of  Ireland,  into  the  commission  of  the  peace,  when  he  was  scarcely  two- 
and-twenty.  This  outset  in  life  decided  his  political  party  for  ever  ;  and  however 
unfit  the  principles  of  such  a  man  rendered  him  for  the  society  of  those  who  pro- 
fessed a  rigidity  of  religion  and  morals,  so  useful  was  Blood's  rapidity  of  inven- 
tion, and  so  well  was  he  known,  that  he  was  held  capable  of  framing  with  sagacity, 
and  conducting  with  skill,  the  most  ■^  asperate  undertakings,  and  in  a  turbulent 
time  was  allowed  to  associate  with  the  non-jurors,  who  affected  a  peculiar 
austerity  of  conduct  and  sentiments.  In  1663,  the  Act  of  Settlement  in  Ireland, 
and  proceedings  thereupon,  affected  Blood  deeply  in  his  fortune,  and  from  that 
moment  he  appears  to  have  nourished  the  most  inveterate  hatred  to  the  Duke  of 
Ormond,  the  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  whom  he  considered  as  the  author  of 
the  measures  under  which  he  suffered.  There  were  at  this  time  many  malcon- 
tents of  the  same  party  with  himself,  so  that  Lieutenant  Blood,  as  the  most  dar- 
ing among  them,  was  able  to  put  himself  at  the  head  of  a  conspiracy  which  had 
for  its  purpose  the  exciting  a  general  insurrection,  and,  as  a  preliminary,  step, 
the  surprising  of  the  castle  of  Dublin.  The  means  proposed  for  the  last  purpose, 
which  was  to  be  the  prelude  to  the  rising,  augured  the  desperation  of  the  person 
by  whom  it  was  contrived,  and  yet  might  probably  have  succeeded  from  its  very 
boldness.  A  declaration  was  drawn  up  Tby  the  hand  of  Blood  himself,  calling 
upon  all  persons  to  take  arms  for  the  liberty  of  the  subject  and  the  restoration 
of  the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant.  For  the  surprise  of  the  castle,  it  was  pro- 
vided that  several  persons  with  petitions  in  their  hands  were  to  wait  within  the 
walls,  as  if  they  stayed  to  present  them  to  the  Lord  Lieutenant,  while  about  four- 
score of  the  old  daring  disbanded  soldiers  were  to  remain  on  the  outside,  dressed 
like  carpenters,  smiths,  shoemakers,  and  other  ordinary  mechanics.  As  soon  as 
the  Lord  Lieutenant  went  in,  a  baker  was  to  pass  by  the  main  guard  with  a  large 
basket  of  white  bread  on  his  back.  By  making  a  false  step,  he  was  to  throw  down 
his  burden,  which  might  create  a  scramble  among  the  soldiers,  and  offer  the  four- 
score men  before  mentioned  an  opportunity  of  disarming  them,  while  the  others 
with  petitions  in  their  hands  secured  all  within  ;  and  being  once  master  of  the 
castle  and  the  Dnke  of  Ormond's  person,  they  were  to  publish  their  declaration. 
But  some  of  the  principal  conspirators  were  apprehended  about  twelve  hours 
before  the  time  appointed  for  the  execution  of  the  design,  in  which  no  less  than 
seven  members  or  the  House  of  Commons  (for  the  Parliament  of  Ireland  was 
then  sitting)  were  concerned.  Lackie,  a  minister,  the  brother-in-law  of  Blood, 
was  with  several  others  tried,  condemned,  and  executed.  Blood  effected  his 
escape,  but  was  still  so  much  the  object  of  public  apprehension,  that  a  rumor 
having  arisen  during  Lackie's  execution  that  Major  Blood  was  at  hand  with  a 
party  to  rescue  the  prisoner,  every  one  of  the  guards,  and  the  executioner  him- 
self, shifted  for  themselves,  leaving  Lackie,  with  the  halter  about  his  neck,  stand- 
ing alone  under  the  gallows  ;  but  as  no  rescue  appeared,  the  sheriff-officers  re- 
turned to  their  duty,  and  the  criminal  was  executed.  Meantime  Blood  retired 
among  the  mountains  of  Ireland,  where  he  herded  alternately  with  fanatics  and 
Papists,  provided  only  they  were  discontented  with  the  government.  There  wer« 
few  persons  better  acquainted  with  the  intrigues  of  the  tune  than  this  actire 


602  NOTES  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

partizan,  who  was  alternately  Quaker,  Anabaptist,  or  Catholic,  but  always  a 
rebel  and  revolutionist ;  he  shifted  from  place  to  place,  and  from  kingdom  to 
kingdom,  became  known  to  the  Admiral  de  Ruyter,  and  was  the  soul  of  every 
desperate  plot. 

In  particular,  about  1665,  Mr.  Blood  was  one  of  a  revolutionary  committee,  or 
secret  council,  which  continued  its  sittings,  notwithstanding  that  government 
knew  of  its  meetings.  For  their  security,  they  had  about  thirty  stout  fellows 
posted  around  the  place  where  they  met,  in  the  nature  of  a  corps  de  garde.  It 
fell  out  that  two  or  the  members  of  the  council,  to  save  themselves,  and  perhaps 
for  the  sake  of  a  reward,  betrayed  all  their  transactions  to  the  ministry,  which 
Mr.  Blood  soon  suspected,  and  in  a  short  time  got  to  the  bottom  of  the  whole 
affair.  He  appointed  these  two  persons  to  meet  him  at  a  tavern  in  the  city, 
where  he  had  his  guard  ready,  who  secured  them  without  any  noise,  and  carried 
them  to  a  private  place  provided  for  the  purpose,  where  he  called  a  kind  of 
court-martial,  before  whom  they  were  tried,  found  guilty,  and  sentenced  to  be 
shot  two  days  after  in  the  same  place.  When  the  time  appointed  came,  they 
were  brought  out,  and  all  the  necessary  preparations  made  for  putting  the 
sentence  in  execution ;  and  the  poor  men,  seeing  no  hopes  of  escape,  disposed 
themselves  to  suffer  as  well  as  they  could.  At  this  critical  juncture,  Mr.  Blood 
was  graciously  pleased  to  grant  them  his  pardon,  and  at  the  same  time  advised 
them  to  go  to  their  new  master,  tell  him  all  that  had  happened,  and  request  him, 
in  the  name  of  their  old  confederates,  to  be  as  favorable  to  such  of  them  as 
should  at  any  time  stand  in  need  of  his  mercy.  Whether  these  unfortunate 
people  carried  Mr.  Blood's  message  to  the  king,  does  not  anywhere  appear.  It 
is,  however,  certain  that  not  long  after  the  whole  conspiracy  was  discovered  ;  in 
consequence  of  which,  on  the  26th  of  April  1606,  Col.  John  Rathbone,  and  some 
other  officers  of  the  late  disbanded  army,  were  tried  and  convicted  at  the  Old 
Bailey  for  a  plot  to  surprise  the  Tower  and  to  kill  General  Monk. 

After  his  concern  with  this  desperate  conclave,  who  were  chiefly  fanatics  and 
Fifth  Monarchy  men,  Blood  exchanged  the  scene  for  Scotland,  where  lie  mingled 
among  the  Cameronians,  and  must  have  been  a  most  acceptable  associate  to 
John  Balfour  of  Burley,  or  any  other  who  joined  the  insurgents  more  out  of 
spleen  or  desire  of  plunder  than  from  religious  motives.  The  writers  of  the  sect 
seem  to  have  thought  his  name  a  discredit  or  perhaps  did  not  know  it ;  never- 
theless, it  is  affirmed  in  a  pamphlet  written  by  a  person  who  seems  to  have  been 
well  acquainted  with  the  incidents  of  his  life,  that  he  shared  the  dangers  of  the 
defeat  at  Pentland  Hills,  a7th  November  1666,  in  which  the  Cameronians  were 
totally  routed.  After  the  engagement,  he  found  his  way  again  to  Ireland,  but 
was  hunted  out  of  Ulster  by  Lord  Dungannon,  who  pursued  him  very  closely. 
On  his  return  to  England,  he  made  himself  again  notorious  by  an  exploit,  of 
which  the  very  singular  particulars  are  contained  in  the  pamphlet  already 
mentioned.*  The  narrative  runs  as  follows  : — Among  the  persons  apprehended 
for  the  late  fanatic  conspiracy  "■  was  one  Captain  Mason,  a  person  for  whom  Mr. 
Blood  had  a  particular  affection  and  friendship.  This  person  was  to  be  removed 
from  London  to  one  of  the  northern  counties,  in  order  to  his  trial  at  the  assizes  ; 
and  to  that  intent  was  sent  down  with  eight  of  the  duke's  troop  to  guard  him, 
being  reckoned  to  be  a  person  bold  and  courageous.  Mr.  Blood,  having  notice  of 
this  journey,  resolves  by  the  way  to  rescue  his  friend.  The  prisoner  and  his 
guard  went  away  in  the  morning,  and  Mr.  Blood,  having  made  choice  of  three 
more  of  his  acquaintance,  set  forward  the  same  day  at  night,  without  boots, 
upon  small  horses,  and  their  pistols  in  their  trowsers,  to  prevent  suspicion.  But 
opportunities  are  not  so  easily  had,  neither  were  all  places  convenient,  so  that 
the  convoy  and  their  prisoner  were  gone  a  good  way  beyond  Newark  before  Mr. 
Blood  and  his  friends  had  any  scent  of  their  prisoner.  At  one  place  they  set  a 
sentinel  to  watch  his  coming  by  ;  but  whether  it  was  out  of  fear,  or  that  the 
person  was  tired  with  a  tedious  expectation,  the  sentinel  brought  them  no  tidings 
either  of  the  prisoner  or  his  guard,  insomuch  that  Mr.  Blood  and  his  companions 
began  to  think  their  friend  so  far  before  them  upon  the  road  that  it  would  be  in 
vain  to  follow  him.  And  yet,  not  willing  to  give  over  an  enterprise  so  generously 
undertaken,  upon  Mr.  Blood's  encouragement  they  rode  on,  though  despairing 
of  success,  until,  finding  it  grow  toward  evening,  and  meeting  a  convenient  inn 
upon  the  road,  in  a  small  village  not  far  from  Doncaster,  they  resolved  to  lie 
there  all  night,  and  return  for  London  the  next  morning.  In  that  inn  they  had 
not  sat  long  in  a  room  next  the  street,  condoling  among  themselves  the  ill  success 
of  a  tedious  journey,  and  the  misfortune  of  their  friend,  before  the  convoy  came 
thundering  up  to  the  door  of  the  said  inn  with  their  prisoner,  in  regard  that 
Captain  Mason  had  made  choice  of  that  inn,  as  being  best  known  to  him,  to  give 
his  guardians  the  refreshment  of  a  dozen  of  drink.  There  Mr.  Blood,  unseen, 
had  a  full  view  of  his  friend  and  the  persons  he  had  to  deal  with.    He  had  be- 

•  Bemark*  qf  the  Life  of  the  famed  Mr.  Blood.    London,  1680.    FoUtv. 


NOTES  TO  PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK  603 

gpoke  a  small  supper,  which  was  at  the  fire,  so  that  he  had  but  very  little  time 
for  consultation,  finding  that  Captain  Mason's  party  did  not  intend  to  alight  ;  so 
that  he  only  gave  general  directions  to  his  associates  to  follow  his  example  in 
whatever  they  saw  him  do.  In  haste,  therefore,  they  called  for  their  horses  and 
threw  down  their  money  for  their  reckoning,  telling  the  woman  of  the  house  that, 
since  they  had  met  with  such  good  company,  they  were  resolved  to  go  forward. 
Captain  Mason  went  off  first  upon  a  sorry  beast,  and  with  him  the  commande  ■  of 
the  party  and  four  more  ;  the  rest  stayed  behind  to  make  an  end  of  their  liquor. 
Then  away  marched  one  more  single,  and  in  a  very  small  time  after  the  last  two. 
By  thistime  Mr.  Blood  amd  one  of  his  friends,  being  horsed,  followed  the  two  that 
were  hindmost,  and  soon  overtook  them.  These  four  rode  some  little  time  to- 
gether, Mr.  Blood  on  the  right  hand  of  the  two  soldiers  and  his  friend  on  the  left. 
But  upon  a  sudden  Mr.  Blood  laid  hold  of  the  reins  of  the  horse  next  him,  while 
his  friend,  in  observation  of  his  directions,  did  the  same  on  the  other  hand  ;  and 
having  presently  by  surprise  dismounted  the  soldiers,  pulled  off  the  bridles  and 
sent  the  horses  to  pick  their  grass  where  they  pleased.  These  two  being  thus 
made  sure  of,  Mr.  Blood  pursues  his  game,  intending  to  have  reached  the  single 
trooper  ;  but  he  being  got  to  the  rest  of  his  fellows,  now  reduced  to  six,  and  a 
barber  of  York,  that  traveled  in  their  company,  Mr.  Blood  made  up,  heads  the 
whole  party,  and  stops  them  ;  of  which  some  of  the  foremost,  looking  upon  him 
to  be  either  drunk  or  mad,  thought  the  rebuke  of  a  switch  to  be  a  sufficient 
chastisement  of  such  a  rash  presumption,  which  they  exercised  with  more  con- 
tempt than  fury,  till,  by  the  rudeness  of  his  compliments  [in  return],  he  gave 
them  to  understand  he  was  not  in  jest,  but  in  very  good  earnest.  He  was  soon 
seconded  by  his  friend  that  was  with  him  in  his  first  exploit ;  but  there  had  been 
several  rough  blows  dealt  between  the  unequal  number  of  six  to  two  before  Mr. 
Blood's  two  other  friends  came  in  to  assistance  :  nay,  I  may  safely  say  seven  to 
two,  for  the  barber  of  York,  whether  out  of  his  natural  propensity  to  the  sport, 
or  that  his  pot  valiantness  had  made  him  so  generous  to  help  his  fellow-travelers, 
would  needs  show  his  valor  at  the  beginning  of  the  fray.  But  better  he  had 
been  at  the  latter  end  of  a  feast ;  for  though  he  showed  his  prudence  to  take 
the  stronger  side,  as  guessed  by  the  number,  yet  because  he  would  take  no 
warning,  which  was  often  given  him,  not  to  put  himself  to  the  hazard  of 
losing  a  ghitter-finger  by  medding  in  a  business  that  nothing  concerned 
him,  he  lost  his  life,  in  regard  they  were  foi'ced  to  despatch  him,  in  the  first 
place,  for  giving  them  a  needless  trouble.  The  barber,  being  thus  become  a 
useless  instrument,  and  the  other  of  Mr.  Blood's  friends  being  come  up,  the 
skirmish  began  to  be  very  smart,  the  four  assailants  having  singled  out  their 
champions  as  fairly  and  equally  as  they  could.  All  this  while  Captain  Mason, 
being  rode  before  upon  his  thirty-shilling  steed,  wondering  his  guard  came  not 
with  him,  looked  back,  and,  observing  a  combustion  and  that  they  were  alto- 
gether by  the  ears,  knew  not  what  to  think.  He  conjectured  it  at  first  to  have 
been  some  intrigue  upon  him,  as  if  the  troopers  had  a  design  to  tempt  him  to  an 
escape,  which  might  afterwards  prove  more  to  his  prejudice  ;  just  like  cats, 
that,  with  a  regardless  scorn,  seem  to  give  the  distressed  mouse  all  the  liberty  in 
the  world  to  get  away  out  of  their  paws,  but  soon  recover  their  prey  again  at 
one  jump.  Thereupon,  unwilling  to  undergo  the  hazard  of  such  a  trial,  he  comes 
back,  at  what  time  Mr.  Blood  cried  out  to  him,  '  Horse— horse,  quickly  I '  an 
alarm  so  amazing  at  first,  that  he  could  not  believe  it  to  be  his  friend's  voice 
when  he  heard  it ;  but  as  the  thoughts  of  military  men  are  soon  summoned  to- 
gether, and  never  hold  Spanish  councils,  the  captain  presently  settled  his  res- 
olution, mounts  the  next  horse  that  wanted  a  rider,  and  puts  in  for  a  share  of 
his  own  self-preservation.  In  this  bloody  conflict  Mr.  Blood  was  three  times 
unhorsed,  occasioned  by  his  forget  fulness,  as  having  omitted  to  new  girt  his 
saddle,  which  the  ostlers  had  unloosed  upon  the  wading  his  horse  at  his  first 
coming  into  the  inn.  Being  then  so  often  dismounted,  and  not  knowing  the 
reason,  which  the  occasion  would  not  give  him  leave  to  consider,  he  resolved  to 
fight  it  out  on  foot ;  of  which  two  of  the  soldiers  taking  the  advantage  singled 
him  out  and  drove  him  into  a  courtyard,  where  he  made  a  stand  with  a  full  body, 
his  sword  in  one  hand  and  his  pistol  in  the  other.  One  of  the  soldiers,  taking 
that  advantage  of  his  open  body,  shot  him  near  the  shoulder-blade  of  his  pistol 
arm.  at  what  time  he  had  near  four  other  bullets  in  his  body  that  he  had  received 
before  ;  which  the  soldier  observing,  flung  his  discharged  pistol  at  him  with  that 
good  aim  and  violence,  that  he  hit  him  a  stunning  blow  just  under  the  forehead, 
upon  the  upper  part  of  the  nose  between  the  eyes,  which  for  the  present  so 
amazed  him,  that  he  gave  himself  over  for  a  dead  man  ;  yet  resolving,  like  a  true 
cock  of  the  game,  to  give  one  sparring  blow  before  he  expired,  such  is  the 
strange  provocation  and  success  of  despair,  with  one  vigorous  stroke  of  his 
sword  he  brought  his  adversary  with  a  vengeance  from  his  horse,  and  laid  [him] 
in  a  far  worse  condition  than  himself  at  his  horse's  feet.  At  that  time,  full  of 
anger  and  revenge,  he  was  just  going  to  make  ar  end  of  his  conquest  by  giving 
him  the  fatal  stab,  but  in  that  very  nick  of  time  Captain  Mason,  having,  with  the 


604  NOTES  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAk 

help  of  his  friends,  done  his  business  where  they  had  fought,  by  the  death  of 
some  and  the  disabling  of  others  that  opposed  them,  came  in,  and  bid  him  hold 
and  spare  the  life  of  one  that  had  been  the  civilest  person  to  him  upon  tne  road, 
a  fortunate  piece  of  Icindness  in  the  one  and  of  gratitude  in  the  other  ;  which 
Mr.  Blood  easily  condescending  to,  by  the  joint  assistance  of  the  captain,  the 
other  soldier  was  soon  mastered,  and  the  victory,  after  a  sharp  fight,  that  lasted 
above  two  hours,  was  at  length  completed.  You  may  be  sure  the  fight  was  well 
maintained  on  both  sides,  while  two  of  the  soldiers,  besides  the  barber,  wei  e 
slain  upon  the  place,  three  unhorsed,  and  the  rest  wounded.  And  it  was  observ- 
able that,  though  the  encounter  happened  in  a  village,  where  a  great  number  of 
people  were  spectators  of  the  combat,  yet  none  would  adventure  the  rescue 
of  either  party,  as  not  knowing  which  was  in  the  wrong  or  which  in  the  right, 
and  were  therefore  wary  of  being  arbitrators  in  such  a  desperate  contest,  where 
they  saw  the  reward  of  assistance  to  be  nothing  but  present  death.  After  the 
combat  was  over,  Mr.  Blood  and  his  friends  divided  themselves  and  parted 
several  ways." 

Before  he  had  engaged  in  this  adventure.  Lieutenant  Blood  had  placed  his  wife 
and  son  in  an  apothecary's  shop  at  Rumford,  under  the  name  of  Weston.  He 
himself  afterwards  affected  to  practise  as  a  physician  under  that  of  Aylifife, 
under  which  guise  he  remained  concealed  until  his  wounds  were  cured,  and  the 
hue  and  cry  against  him  and  his  accomplices  was  somewhat  abated. 

In  the  meantime,  this  extraordinary  man,  whose  spirits  toiled  in  framing  the 
most  daring  enterprises,  had  devised  a  plot  which,  as  it  respected  the  person  at 
whom  it  was  aimed,  was  of  a  much  more  ambitious  character  than  that  for  the 
delivery  of  Mason.  It  had  for  its  object  the  seizure  of  the  person  of  the  Duke  of 
Ormond,  his  ancient  enemv,  in  the  streets  of  London.  In  this  some  have  thought 
he  only  meant  to  gratify  nis  resentment,  while  others  suppose  that  he  might 
hope  to  extort  some  important  advantages  by  detaining  his  Grace  in  his  hands  as 
a  prisoner.  The  duke's  historian.  Carte,  gives  the  following  account  of  this  ex- 
traordinary enterprise  :— "  The  Prince  of  Orange  came  this  year  (1670)  into  Eng- 
land, and  being  invited  on  Dec.  6  to  an  entertainment  in  the  city  of  London,  his 
Grace  attended  him  thither.  As  he  was  returning  homewards  in  a  dark  night, 
and  going  up  St.  James's  Street,  at  the  end  of  which,  facing  the  palace,  stood 
Clarendon  House,  where  he  then  lived,  ne  was  attacked  by  Blood  and  five  of 
his  accomplices.  The  duke  always  used  to  go  attended  with  six  footmen  ;  but  as 
they  were  too  heavy  a  load  to  ride  upon  a  coach,  he  always  had  iron  spikes  behind 
it  to  keep  them  from  getting  up  ;  and  continued  this  practice  to  his  dying  day, 
even  after  this  attempt  of  assassination.  These  six  footmen  used  to  walk  on  both 
sides  of  the  street  over  against  the  coach  ;  but,  by  some  contrivance  or  other, 
they  were  all  stopped  and  out  of  the  way,  when  the  duke  was  taken  out  of  his 
coach  by  Blood  and  his  son,  and  mounted  on  horseback  behind  one  of  the  horse- 
men in  his  company.  The  coachman  drove  on  to  Clarendon  House,  and  told  the 
porter  that  the  duke  had  been  seized  by  two  men,  who  had  carried  him  down 
Pickadilly.  The  porter  im.mediately  ran  that  way,  and  Mr.  James  Clarke,  chanc- 
ing to  be  at  that  time  in  the  court  of  the  house,  followed  with  all  possible  haste, 
having  first  alarmed  the  family,  and  ordered  the  servants  to  come  after  him  as 
fast  as  they  could.  Blood,  it  seems,  either  to  gratify  the  humor  of  his  patron, 
who  had  set  him  upon  this  work,  or  to  glut  his  own  revenge  by  putting  his  Grace 
to  the  same  ignominious  death  which  his  accomplices  in  the  treasonable  design 
upon  Dublin  Castle  had  suffered,  had  taken  a  strong  fancy  into  his  head  to  hang 
the  duke  at  Tyburn.  Nothing  could  have  saved  his  Grace's  fife,  but  that  extrav- 
agant imagination  and  passion  of  the  villain,  who,  leaving  the  duke  mounted  and 
buckled  to  one  of  his  comrades,  rode  on  before,  and,  as  is  said,  actually  tied  a 
rope  to  the  gallows,  and  then  rode  back  to  see  what  was  become  of  his  accom- 
plices, whom  he  met  riding  off  in  a  great  hurry.  The  horseman  to  whom  the 
duke  was  tied  was  a  person  of  great  strength,  but  being  embarrassed  by  his 
Grace's  struggling,  could  not  advance  as  fast  as  he  desired.  He  was,  however, 
got  a  good  way  beyond  Berkeley  (now  Devonshire)  House,  towards  Knightsbridge, 
when  the  duke,  having  got  his  foot  under  the  man's,  unhorsed  him,  and  they 
both  fell  down  together  in  the  mud,  where  they  were  struggling  when  the  porter 
and  Mr.  Clarke  came  up.  The  villain  then  disengaged  himself,  and  seeing  the 
neighborhood  alarmed,  and  numbers  of  people  running  towards  them,  got  ou 
horseback,  and  having,  with  one  of  his  comrades,  fired  their  pistols  at  the  duke 
but  missed  him,  as  taking  their  aim  in  the  dark  and  in  a  hurry),  rode  off  as  fast 
as  they  could  to  save  themselves.  The  duke  (now  sixty  years  of  age)  was  quita 
spent  with  struggling,  so  that  when  Mr.  Clarke  and  the  porter  came  up,  they 
knew  him  rather  by  feeling  his  star  than  by  any  sound  of  voice  he  could  utter ; 
and  they  were  forced  to  carry  him  home  and  lay  him  on  a  bed  to  recover  his 
spirits.  He  received  some  wounds  and  bruises  in  the  struggle,  which  confined 
him  within  doors  for  some  days.  The  King,  when  he  heard  of  this  intended  assas- 
sination of  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  expressed  a  great  resentment  on  that  occasion, 
and  issued  out  a  proclamation  for  tne  discovery  and  apprehension  of  the  mis- 


NOTES  TO  PEVEEIL  OF  THE  PEAK  606 

ereants  concerned  in  the  attempt "  [History  of  the  Life  of  James  Duke  of  Ormonde 
Loudon,  1736,  vol.  ii.  pp.  421,  4221. 

Blood,  however,  lay  concealed,  and  with  his  usual  success  escaped  apprehen- 
sion. While  thus  lurking^,  he  entertained  and  digested  an  exploit  evincuig  the 
same  atrocity  which  had  characterized  the  undertakings  he  had  formerly  been 
engaged  in  ;  there  was  also  to  be  traced  in  his  new  device  something  of  that  pe- 
culiar disposition  which  inclined  him  to  be  desirous  of  adding  to  the  murder  of 
the  Duke  of  Ormond  the  singular  infamy  of  putting  him  to  deatli  at  Tyburn, 
With  something  of  the  same  spirit,  he  now  resolved  to  show  his  contempt  of 
monarchy  and  all  its  symbols  by  stealing  the  crown,  sceptre,  and  other  articles 
of  the  regalia  out  of  the  office  in  which  they  were  deposited,  and  enriching  him- 
self and  his  needy  associates  with  the  produce  of  the  spoils.  This  feat,  by  which 
Blood  is  now  chiefly  remembered,  is,  like  all  his  transactions,  marked  with  a  dar- 
ing strain  of  courage  and  duplicity,  and,  like  most  of  his  undertakings,  was  very 
likely  to  have  proved  successful.  John  Bayley,  Esq^.,  in  his  History  and  Antiqui- 
ties of  the  Tower  of  London  [pp.  196-200]  gives  the  tollowing  distinct  account  of 
this  curious  exploit.  At  this  period,  Sir  Gilbert  Talbot  was  keeper,  as  it  was 
called,  of  the  jewel  house. 

"  It  was  soon  after  the  appointment  of  Sir  Gilbert  Talbot  that  the  regalia  in 
the  Tower  first  became  objects  of  public  inspection,  which  King  Charles  allowed 
in  consequence  of  the  reduction  in  the  emoluments  of  the  master's  office.    The 

f)roflts  wnich  arose  from  showing  the  jewels  to  strangers,  Sir  Gilbert  assigned  in 
ieu  of  a  salary  to  the  person  whom  he  had  appointed  to  the  care  of  them.  This 
was  an  old  confidential  servant  of  his  father's,  one  Talbot  Edwards,  whose  name 
is  handed  down  to  posterity  as  keeper  of  the  regalia,  when  the  notorious  attempt 
to  steal  the  crown  was  made  by  one  Blood,  a  desperate  ruffian,  in  the  year  1673, 
the  following  account  of  which  is  chiefly  derived  from  a  relation  which  Mr.  Ed- 
wards himself  made  of  the  transaction  :— 

"  About  three  weeks  before  this  audacious  villain  made  his  attempt  upon  the 
crown,  he  came  to  the  Tower  in  the  habit  of  a  parson,  with  a  long  cloak,  cassock 
and  canonical  girdle,  accompanied  by  a  woman,  whom  he  called  his  wife.  They 
desired  to  see  the  regalia,  and,  just  as  their  wishes  had  been  gratified,  the  lady 
feigned  sudden  indisposition  ;  this  called  forth  the  kind  offices  of  Mrs.  Edwards, 
the  keeper's  wife,  who,  having  courteously  invited  her  into  their  house  to  repose 
herself,  she  soon  recovered,  and,  on  their  departure,  professed  themselves  thank- 
ful for  this  civility.  A  few  days  after.  Blood  came  again,  bringing  a  present  to 
Mrs.  Edwards  of  four  pairs  of  white  gloves  from  his  pretended  wife  ;  and  having 
thus  begun  the  acquaintance,  they  made  frequent  visits  to  improve  it.  After  a 
short  respite  of  their  compliments,  the  disguised  ruffian  returned  again  ;  and  in 
conversation  with  Mrs.  Edwards,  said  that  his  wife  could  discourse  of  nothing 
but  the  kindness  of  those  good  people  in  the  Tower  ;  that  she  had  long  studied, 
and  at  length  bethought  herself  of  a  handsome  way  of  requital.  "You  have," 
quoth  he,  "  a  pretty  young  gentlewoman  for  your  daughter,  and  I  have  a  young 
nephew,  who  has  two  or  three  hundred  a-year  in  land,  and  is  at  my  disposal.  If 
your  daughter  be  free,  and  you  approve,  I'll  bring  him  here  to  see  her,  and  we 
will  endeavor  to  make  it  a  match."  This  was  easily  assented  to  by  old  Mr. 
Edwards,  who  invited  the  parson  to  dine  with  him  on  that  day  ;  he  readily  ac- 
cepted the  invitation  ;  and  taking  upon  him  to  say  grace,  performed  it  with  great 
seeming  devotion,  and  casting  up  his  eyes,  concluded  it  with  a  prayer  for  the 
king,  queen,  and  royal  family.  After  dinner,  he  went  up  to  see  the  rooms,  and 
observing  a  handsome  case  of  pistols  hang  there,  expressed  a  great  desire  to  buy 
them,  to  present  to  a  young  lord,  who  was  his  neighbor— a  pretence  by  which  he 
thought  of  disarming  the  house  against  the  period  intended  for  the  execution  of 
his  design.  At  his  departure,  which  was  a  canonical  benediction  of  the  good 
company,  he  appointed  a  day  and  hour  to  bring  his  young  nephew  to  see  his  mis- 
tress, which  was  the  very  day  that  he  made  his  daring  attempt.  The  good  old 
gentleman  had  got  up  ready  to  receive  his  guest,  and  the  daughter  was  in  her 
best  dress  to  entertain  her  expected  lover ;  when,  behold.  Parson  Blood,  with 
three  more,  came  to  the  jewel  house,  all  armed  with  rapier-blades  in  their  canes, 
and  every  one  a  dagger  and  a  brace  of  pocket-pistols.  Two  of  his  companions 
entered  in  with  him,  on  pretense  of  seeing  the  crown,  and  the  third  staid  at  the 
door,  as  if  to  look  after  the  young  Jady,  a  jewel  of  a  more  charming  description, 
but  in  reality  as  a  watch.  The  daughter,  who  thought  it  not  modest  to  come 
down  till  she  was  called,  sent  the  maid  to  take  a  view  of  the  company,  and  bring 
a  description  of  her  gallant ;  and  the  servant,  conceiving  that  he  was  the  in- 
tended bridegroom  who  staid  at  the  door,  being  the  youngest  of  the  party,  re- 
turned to  soothe  the  anxiety  of  her  young  mistress  with  the  idea  she  had  formed 
of  his  person.  Blood  told  Mr.  Edwards  that  they  would  not  go  upstairs  till  his 
wife  came,  and  desired  him  to  show  his  friends  the  crown  to  pass  the  time  till 
then ;  and  they  had  no  sooner  entered  the  room,  and  the  door,  as  usual,  shut, 
than  a  cloak  was  thrown  over  the  old  man's  head  and  a  gag  put  in  his  mouth. 
Thus  secured,  they  told  him  that  their  resolution  was  to  have  tb^  '^"•own,  globe, 


606  NOTUS  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK 

and  sceptre ;  and,  if  he  would  quietly  submit  to  it,  they  would  spare  his  life ' 
otherwise  he  was  to  expect  no  mercy.  He  thereupon  endeavored  to  make  all 
the  noise  he  possibly  could,  to  be  heard  above ;  they  then  knocked  him  down 
with  a  wooden  mallet,  and  told  him  that,  if  yet  he  would  lie  quietly,  they  would 
spare  his  life  ;  but  if  not,  upon  his  next  attempt  to  discover  them,  they  would 
kill  him.  Mr.  Edwards,  however,  according  to  his  o''n  account,  was  not  intimid- 
ated by  this  threat,  but  strained  himself  to  make  the  greater  noise,  and  in  conse- 
quence received  several  more  blows  on  the  head  with  the  mallet,  and  was  stabbed 
in  the  belly  ;  this  again  brought  the  poor  old  man  to  the  ground,  where  he  lay 
for  some  time  in  so  senseless  a  state  that  one  of  the  villains  pronounced  him  dead. 
Edwards  had  come  a  little  to  himself,  and  hearing  this,  lay  quietly,  conceiving  it 
best  to  be  thought  so.  The  booty  was  now  to  be  disposed  of,  and  one  of  them, 
named  Parrot,"  secreted  the  orb.  "  Blood  held  the  crown  under  his  cloak  ;  and 
the  third  was  about  to  file  the  sceptre  in  two,  in  order  that  it  might  be  placed  in 
a  bag,  brought  for  that  purpose  ;  out,  fortunately,  the  son  of  Mr.  Edwards,  who 
had  been  in  Flanders  with  Sir  John  Talbot,  and,  on  his  landing  in  England,  had 
obtained  leave  to  come  away  post  to  visit  his  father,  happened  to  arrive  whilst 
this  scene  was  acting  ;  and  on  coming  to  the  door,  the  person  that  stood  sentinel 
asked  with  whom  he  would  speak  ;  to  which  he  answered,  that  he  belonged  to 
the  house  ;  and,  perceiving  the  person  to.be  a  stranger,  told  him  that  if  he  had 
any  business  with  his  father  that  he  would  acquaint  him  with  it,  and  so  hastened 
upstairs  to  salute  his  friends.  This  unexpected  accident  spread  confusion 
amongst  the  party,  and  they  instantly  decamped  with  the  crown  and  orb,  leav- 
ing the  sceptre  yet  unfiled.  The  aged  keeper  now  raised  himself  upon  his  legs, 
forced  the  gag  f I'om  his  mouth,  and  cried,  "  Treason  1  murder  !  "  which  being 
heard  by  his  daughter,  who  was,  perhaps,  anxiously  expecting  far  other  sounds, 
ran  out  and  reiterated  the  cry.  The  alarm  now  became  general,  and  young  Ed- 
wards and  his  brother-in-law,  Captain  Beckman,  ran  after  the  conspirators, 
whom  a  warder  put  himself  in  a  position  to  stop,  but  Blood  discharged  a  pistol  at 
him,  and  he  fell,  although  unhurt,  and  the  thieves  proceeded  safely  to  the  next 
post,  where  one  Sill,  who  had  been  a  soldier  under  Cromwell,  stood  sentinel ;  but 
he  offered  no  opposition,  and  they  accordingly  passed  the  drawbridge.  Horses 
were  waiting  for  them  at  St.  Catherine's  gate  ;  and  as  they  ran  that  v/ay  along 
the  Tower  wharf,  they  themselves  cried  out,  "  Stop  the  rogues  !  "  by  which  they 
passed  on  unsuspected,  till  Captain  Beckman  overtook  them.  At  his  head  Blood 
fired  another  pistol,  but  missed  him,  and  was  seized.  Under  the  cloak  of  this 
daring  villain  was  found  the  crown,  and,  although  he  saw  himself  a  prisoner,  he 
had  yet  the  impudence  to  struggle  for  his  prey  ;  and  when  it  was  finally  wrested 
from  him,  said,  "  It  was  a  gallant  attempt,  however  unsuccessful :  it  was  for  a 
crown  I  "  Parrot  [who  had  formerly  served  under  General  Harrison]  was  also 
taken  ;  but  Hunt,  Blood's  son-in-law,  reached  his  horse  and  rode  off,  as  did  two 
other  of  the  thieves  ;  but  he  was  soon  afterwards  stopped,  and  likewise  com- 
mited  to  custody.  In  this  struggle  and  confusion,  the  great  pearl,  a  large  dia- 
mond, and  several  smaller  stones  were  lost  from  the  crown  ;  but  the  two  former, 
and  some  of  the  latter,  were  afterwards  found  and  restored  ;  and  the  Ballasruby, 
broken  off  the  sceptre,  being  found  in  Parrot's  pocket,  nothing  considerable  was 
eventually  missing. 

"  As  soon  as  the  prisoners  were  secured,  young  Edwards  hastened  to  Sir  Gilbert 
Talbot,  who  was  then  master  and  treasurer  of  the  jewel  house,  and  gave  him  an 
account  of  the  transaction.  Sir  Gilbert  instantly  went  to  the  King  and  acquainted 
his  Majesty  with  it ;  and  his  Majesty  commanded  him  to  proceed  forthwith  to  the 
Tower,  to  see  how  matters  stood,  to  take  the  examination  of  Blood  and  the  others, 
and  to  return  and  i-eport  it  to  him.  Sir  Gilbert  accordingly  went ;  but  the  King 
in  the  mean  time  was  persuaded  by  some  about  him  to  hear  the  examination  him- 
self, and  the  prisoners  were  in  consequence  sent  for  to  Whitehall,  a  circumstance 
which  is  supposed  to  have  saved  these  daring  wretches  from  the  gallows." 

On  his  examination  under  such  an  atrocious  charge.  Blood  audaciously  replied, 
that  he  would  never  betray  an  associate,  or  defend  himself  at  the  expense  of  ut- 
tering a  falsehood.  He  even  averred,  perhaps,  more  than  was  true  agaist  him. 
self,  when  he  confessed  that  he  had  lain  concealed  among  the  reeds  for  the  pur- 
pose of  killing  the  King  with  a  carabine  while  Charles  was  bathing  ;  but  he  pre- 
tended that  on  this  occasion  his  purpose  was.  disconcerted  by  a  secret  awe— ap- 
pearing to  verify  the  allegation  in  Shakspeare,  "  There's  such  divinity  doth  hedge 
a  king,  that  treason  can  but  peep  to  what  it  would,  acts  little  of  its  will."  To 
this  story,  true  or  false.  Blood  added  a  declaration  that  he  was  at  the  head  of  a 
numerous  following,  disbanded  soldiers  and  others,  who,  from  motives  of  religion, 
were  determined  to  take  the  live  of  the  King,  as  the  only  obstacle  to  their  ob- 
taining freedom  of  worship  and  liberty  of  conscience.  These  men,  he  said,  would 
be  determined  by  his  execution  to  persist  in  the  resolution  of  putting  Charles  to 
death  ;  whereas,  he  averred  that,  by  sparing  his  life,  the  King  might  disarm  a 
hundred  poniards  directed  against  his  own.  This  view  of  the  case  made  a  strong 
impression  on  Charles,  whose  selfishness  was  uncommonly  acute  ;  yet  he  felt  the 


J 


NOTES  TO  PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK  607 

impropriety  of  pardoning  the  attempt  upon  the  life  of  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  and 
condescended  to  ask  that  faithful  servant's  permission  before  he  would  exert  his 
authority  to  spare  the  assassin.  Ormond  answered,  "  that  if  the  King  ^■hose  to 
pardon  the  attempt  to  steal  his  crown,  he  himself  might  easily  consent  that  the 
attempt  upon  his  own  life,  as  a  crime  of  much  less  importance,  should  also  be 
forgiven."  Charles,  accorclingly,  not  only  gave  Blood  a  pardon,  but  endowed 
him  with  a  pension  of  £500  a-year  ;  which  led  many  persons  to  infer,  not  only 
that  the  King  wished  to  preserve  himself  from  the  future  attempts  of  this  des- 
perate man,  but  that  he  had  it  also  in  view  to  secure  the  services  of  so  determined 
a  ruffian,  m  case  he  should  have  an  opportunity  of  employing  him  In  his  own 
line  of  business.  There  is  a  striking  contrast  between  the  fate  of  Blood,  pen- 
sioned and  rewarded  for  this  audacious  attempt,  and  that  of  the  faithful  Ed- 
wards, wlio  may  be  safely  said  to  have  sacrificed  his  life  in  defense  of  the  prop- 
erty entrusted  to  him  1  In  remuneration  for  his  fidelity  and  his  sufferings,  Ed- 
wards only  obtained  a  grant  of  £200  from  the  Exchequer,  with  £100  to  his  son  ; 
but  so  little  pains  were  taken  about  the  regular  discharge  of  these  donatives,  that 
the  parties  entitled  to  them  were  glad  to  sell  them  for  half  the  sum.  After  this 
wonderful  escape  from  justice.  Blood  seems  to  have  affected  the  airs  of  a  person 
in  favor,  and  was  known  to  solicit  the  suits  of  many  of  the  old  Republican  party, 
for  whom  he  is  said  to  have  gained  considerable  indulgences,  when  the  old  Cav- 
aliers, who  had  ruined  themselves  in  the  cause  of  Charles  the  First,  could  obtain 
neither  countenance  nor  restitution.  During  the  ministry  called  the  Cabal,  he 
was  high  in  favor  with  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  ;  till  upon  their  declension  his 
favor  began  also  to  fail,  and  we  find  him  again  engaged  in  opposition  to  the  court. 
Blood  was  not  likely  to  lie  idle  amid  the  busy  intrigues  and  factions  which  suc- 
ceeded the  celebrated  discovery  of  Gates.  He  appears  to  have  passed  again  into 
violent  opposition  to  the  court,  but  his  steps  were  no  longer  so  sounding  as  to  be 
heard  above  his  contemporaries.  North  hints  at  his  being  involved  in  a  plot 
against  his  former  friend  and  patron  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  The  passage  is 
quoted  at  length  in  Note  35,  p.  609. 

The  plot,  it  appears,  consisted  in  an  attempt  to  throw  some  scandalous  impu- 
tation upon  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  for  a  conspiracy  to  effect  which  Edward 
Christian,  Arthur  O'Brien,  and  Thomas  Blood  were  indicated  in  the  King's  Bench, 
and  found  guilty,  25th  June  1680.  The  damages  sued  for  were  laid  as  high  as 
£10,000,  for  which  Colonel  Blood  found  bail.  But  he  appears  to  have  been 
severely  affected  in  health,  as,  24th  August  1680,  he  departed  this  life  in  a  species 
of  lethargy.  It  is  remarkable  enough  that  the  story  or  his  death  and  funeral  was 
generally  regarded  as  fabricated,  preparative  to  some  exploit  of  his  own  ;  nay, 
so  general  was  this  report,  that  the  coroner  caused  his  body  to  be  raised,  and  a 
jury  to  sit  upon  it,  for  the  purpose  of  ensuring  that  the  celebrated  Blood  had  at 
length  undergone  the  common  fate  of  mankind.  There  was  found  unexpected 
difficulty  in  proving  that  the  miserable  corpse  before  the  jury  was  that  of  the 
celebrated  conspirator.  It  was  at  length  recognized  by  some  of  his  acquaint- 
ances, who  swore  to  the  preternatural  size  of  the  thumb,  so  that  the  coroner, 
convinced  of  the  identity,  remanded  this  once  active,  and  now  quiet,  person  to 
his  final  rest  in  Tothill  Fields. 

Such  were  the  adventures  of  an  individual  whose  real  exploits,  whether  the 
motive,  the  danger,  or  the  character  of  the  enterprises  be  considered,  equal,  or 
rather  surpass,  those  fictions  of  violence  and  peril  which  we  love  to  peruse  in 
romance.  They  cannot,  therefore,  be  deemed  foreign  to  a  work  dedicated,  like 
the  present,  to  the  preservation  of  extraordinary  occurrences,  whether  real  or 
fictitious. 


GLOSSARY 


OF 


WORDS,  PHRASES,  AND  ALLUSIONS 


JLbencerrages  and  Zegris, 
rival  Moorish  families  of 
Granada  in  Spain,  in  the 
15th  century 

Abigail,  a  waiting-woman, 
tire-woman 

Abiit,  evasit,  erupit,  he 
went  away,  escaped, 
broke  out — from  Cicero, 
In  Catilinam^  ii.  1 

Ad  valorem,  according  to 
the  value 

Ail,  come  in  the  way  of, 
prevent 

Atne^  elder  brother 

A  la  mort,  vanquished, 
overcome 

**Alas,  my  heartis  Queen,''^ 
etc.  (p.  236),  slightly  al- 
tered from  "the  Knight's 
Tale  "  of  The  Canterbury 
Tales 

Aldersgate  Street.  There 
stood  Shaftesbury 
House,  the  mansion  of 
Anthony  Ashley  Cooper, 
Earl  of  Shaftesbury 

Allans,  forward 

Alsatia,  a  sanctuary  in 
Whitefriars,  London 

Ame  damnee,  the  scape- 
goat, tool 

Ancient,  ensign 

Ancient  PistoVs  vein.  Sec 
Merry  Wives  of  Wind- 
sor, Act  i.  sc.  3 

Arcanum,  the  secret  of 
transmuting  base  metal 
into  gold 

Archbishop  of  Granada's 
apoplexy  See  Lesage, 
Oil  Bias,  Bk.  VII.  chap, 
iv. 

Artamenes,  hero  of  a  ro- 
mance. Artam^ne  by 
Mdle.  de  Scud6ri  (10  vols. 
1550) 

Ascaparte,  a  giant  slain 
by  the  mythical  hero. 
Sir  Bevis  of  Hampton  or 
Southampton 

Assizes  of  1830  (p.  597). 
The  allusion  is  to  the 
trial  of  Clewes,  Bankes, 
and  Bamettat  Worces- 


ter in  January  1830  for 
the  murder,  in  1806,  of 
Richard  Hemming  (him- 
self guilty  of  murder), 
committed  with  a  blood- 
stick  in  a  barn  at  Odd- 
ingley,  near  Droitwich 
Assoilzied,  acquitted 
A  vendre  et  d  pendre,  to 
do  exactly  as  you  please 
with 
Aykin,  oaken 


Bale,  misery,  calamity 

Barcelona,  handkerchief 
of  soft  twilled  silk 

Barmoot  Court,  a  petty 
court  for  settling  dis- 
putes, etc.,  amongst  the 
miners 

Barns,  or  Barnes,  Elms,  a 
favorite  place  of  resort 
near  Mortlake,  Surrey 

Barool,  or  Barrule,  the 
name  of  two  mountain 
peaks  in  the  Isle  of  Man 

Barrington,  George,  or 
rather  Waldron,  pick- 
pocket, actor,  and  au- 
thor, afterwards  convict 
superintendent  in  New 
South  Wales,  died  about 
or  after  1800 

Bartholomeni  Fair,  held 
at  Smithfield  in  London 
on  24th  August  (3d  Sep- 
tember from  1753) 

Beaufet,  beauffet,  side- 
board 

Belly  timber,  food 

Bennet,  Harry,  Earl  of 
Arlington,  a  confidential 
adviser  of  Charles  both 
before  and  after  his  Res- 
toration. See  Note  29, 
p.  606 

Betterton,  English  actor 
(16.35-1710) 

Bilboa.  Spanish  sword 

Bite,  swindler,  deceiver 

Black-jack,  a  large  jug  of 
waxed  leather,  for  hold- 
ing ale 

Blake.  Robert,  famous  ad-, 

dOQ  I 

I 


miral  (1599-1657)  under 
Cromwell 
Blind     old    Roundhead's 

?oem,  Milton's  Paradise 
,ost 

Blink,  a  moment,  second 

Blood-stick,  (p.  597),  a 
heavy  stick  leaded  at 
one  end.  used  by  far- 
riers. See  Assizes  of 
1830 

Bolls,  Bollis,  dry  measure* 
=6  bushels 

Boot,  deliverance,  help 

Boots,  green  (p.  261),  be- 
fore  the  rough  hair  has 
worn  off,  newly  made  of 
raw  untanned  leather 

Boree,  a  rustic  dance,  from 
Auvergne  in  France 

Bouilli,  boiled  meat 

Broad-piece,  the  twenty- 
shilling  gold  coin  known 
as  Jacobus  or  Carolus 

Brown-bill,  a  sort  of  hal- 
berd, painted  brown, 
carried  by  watchmen 
and  private  soldiers 

ButVs  length,  the  distance 
between  two  butts  in 
archery,  a  bow-shot 
length 

Cabala,  a  secret  system  of 
theology,  philosophy, 
and  magic  current 
amongst  the  Jews  of  the 
Middle  Ages- 

Caftan,  a  long  under-tunic 
fastened  at  the  waist 
with  a  girrtle 

Cai^is.  The  .  -ords  (p.  234) 
attributed  to  Caius  of 
the  Meriry  Wives  of 
Windsor  occur  in  King 
Lear,  Act  i.  sc.  4 

Camilla,  the  swift-footed 
queen  of  the  Volscians, 
in  the  Mneid,  Bks.  vii., 
xi. 

Canaille,  or  canaglia,  rab- 
ble, mob 

Carfour,  or  carrefour,  the 
place  where  three  or 
more  roads  converge 


610 


W'A  VERLEY  NO VELS 


Carwhichet,  or  carri- 
witchet^  fun,  conundrum 

Castilione,  or  Castilian, 
a  native  of  Castile  in 
Spain 

Vasting-boitle,  bottle  for 
sprinkling  perfumes 

Dave  quos,  etc.  (p.  593), 
Beware  of  those  upon 
whom  God  Himself  lias 
set  the  mark  of  wicked- 
ness 

Cedant  arma  togce,  let 
arms  give  place  to  the 
garment  '(toga)  of 
peace 

Chance-medley,  a  sort  of 
homicide  by  misadven- 
ture, unintentional  mur- 
der 

Chatsworth,  in  Derbyshire, 
the  seat  of  the  Duke  of 
Devonshire 

Chauffette,  or  chauffer- 
ette,  chafing-dish 

Chausse,  chasse^  a  step  in 
dancing 

Chere  Comtesse,  etc.  (p. 
516),  Dear  Countess  of 
Derby,  powerful  queen 
of  Man,  our  very  august 
sister 

Chevalier  dHndustrie, 
sharper,  adventurer 

Ciceroni,  guides 

Cleveland,  Barbara  Pal- 
mer, Duchess  of,  one  of 
Charles  II. 's  mistresses 

Clutter,  noisy  bustle,  hub- 
bub 

Cock-a-leekie,  soup  made 
of  a  cock  boiled  with 
leeks 

Colbrand,  a  Danish  giant 
sla\n  by  the  mythical 
hero.  Sir  Guy  of  War- 
wick 

Coleman,  Edward,  secre- 
tary to  the  Duchess  of 
York  (wife  of  James  II.), 
and  an  active  intriguer 
in  the  Roman  Catholic 
interest.  See  Note  21,  p. 
594 

Comitia,  popular  assem- 
bly 

Comxis,  the  god  of  festive 
mirth  and  .i'^y  in  ancient 
Greek  myfnology 

Consult,  secret  meeting 
for  seditious  purposes 

Conticuere  omnes,  all  were 
silent 

Corineus.  See  Spenser's 
Faerie  Queene.,  Bk.  II. 
canto  X  at.  10 

Corking-pin,  the  largest 
size  of  pin 

Cor  so,  fashionable  car- 
riage-drive in  Italian 
cities 

Corydon^    a    lore-sick 


swain.  In  Virgil's  Eclo- 
gues, ii. 

Cotton,  Charles,  the  friend 
of  Izaak  Walton,  wrote 
a  descriptive  poem  en- 
titled The  Wonders  of 
the  Peak 

Coupe-jarret,  a   paid    as- 


Couranto,  a  lively,  rapid 
dance 

Coventry''8  Act,  styled  22 
and  23  Car.  II.  c.  1  (1670- 
71).  Sir  John  served  in 
the  Royalist  army,  and 
was  M.  P.  for  Weymouth 
from  1667  till  his  death 
in  1682 

Crambo,  game  which  con- 
sisted in  finding  rhymes 
to  given  words 

Crayon,  Master  Geoffrey, 
pen-name  of  Washing- 
ton Irving,  under  which 
he  published  Tales  of  a 
Traveller  (1824) 

Cross,  silver  coin  bearing 
the  device  of  a  cross  on 
one  side 

Cum  privilegio  parlia- 
menti,  with  privilege  of 
parliament 

Darbies,  handcuflfs 

D  e  m  o  i  V  r  e,  Abraham, 
Anglo-French  mathema- 
tician (1667-1754),  author 
of  The  Doctrine  of 
Chances 

Denham,  Sir  John,  a  Roy- 
alist poet,  who  was 
praised  for  his  strength 
as  Waller  for  his  sweet- 
ness 

De  non  apparentibus,  etc. 
(p.  480),  evidence  that  is 
not  produced  amounts 
to  the  same  thing  as  evi- 
dence that  does  not  exist 

Dependency,  the  affair  of 
honor  now  in  hand— a 
duellists'  term 

De  Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford 
(p.  447).  The  actress 
alluded  to  is  said  to  have 
been  one  Mrs.  Marshall ; 
the  incident  is  related  in 
Count.  A  Hamilton's 
Memoirs  of  the  Count  de 
Grammont,  chap.  ix. 

Dishley,  more  correctly 
Disley,  on  the  eastern 
border  of  Cheshire 

Dor  by,  an  old  English 
name  for  goblin 

Doctors,  a  cant  name  for 
false  dice 

Dog-bolt,  a  fool,  butt 

Dorimant,  an  aristocratic 
libertine  in  Etherege's 
Man  of  Mode  (1676) 

Dowery-houMCy  or  dower- 


house,  the  house  form- 
ing part  of  tne  dower  or 
widow's  share  of  her 
deceased  husband's  real 
property 

Dowsabelle.  Compare  the 
use  of  the  word  in  Shake- 
speare's Comedy  of  Er- 
rors, Act  iv.  sc.  1 

Drawcansir.  See  The  Re- 
hearsal, Act  iv.  sc.  1,  by 
George  Villiers,  second 
Duke  of  Buckingham 

Dr.  Meyrick,  author  of  A 
Critical  Inquiry  into 
Ancient  Armor,  as  it 
existed  in  Europe,  etc., 
second  ed.  1844 

Duchess  of  Eichm on d, 
Frances  Howard,  third 
wife  of  Lodowic.'':  Stuart, 
Duke  o_  Lennox  and 
Richmond,  and  cousin 
to  King  James  I.  ;  a  fam- 
ous beautj'  in  her  time 

Dugdale.  Ste^^hen,  one  of 
Titus  Oates's  associates 
in  the  concociion  of  the 
Popish  Plot 

Dyscis  Amaryllidas  ira, 
the  wrath  or  sweet  Am- 
aryllis, "  pretty  Fanny's 
way  " 

Dum  vivimus,  vivamus, 
while  we  live,  let  us  live 
well 

Dunstable  lark,  a  plain, 
simple  lark 

Earths,  fox-holes 

Eidolon,  phantom,  appari- 
tion 

Ein,  a 

Eld,  antiquity,  tradition 

Eldon  Hole,  a  chasm, 
supposed  to  be  unfath- 
omable, one  of  the  won- 
ders of  the  Peak 

Eleanor,  wife  of  Duke  of 
Gloucester,  was  com- 
mitted a  prisoner  to 
Peel  Castle  in  1446,  on 
a  charge  of  treasonable 
witchcraft  against 
Henry  VI.  See  Shake- 
speare's Henry  VI.,  Part 
II.  Act  ii.  sc.  3 

■'•  EmboiceVd,''^  etc.  (p.  ix). 
See  Henry  IV.,  Part  1. 
Act  V.  sc.  4 

Engoue,  infatuated  with 

En  signor.  in  lordly  ease 

Entrechat,  caper,  per- 
formed by  a  dancmg- 
girl 

Entremets,  side  dishes, 
sweetmeats 

Eshbaal,  or  Ishbosheth, 
fourth  son  of  Saul,  who 
was  set  up  as  king  of  Is- 
rael against  David.  Set 
1  Sam.  ii. 


GLOSSAHY 


611 


Bstramagoru,  a  slashing 
cut— a  term  In  sword- 
play 

Etherege,  Sir  George,  a 
witty  dramatist  of 
Charles  II. 's  reign 

Et  sic  de  co&teris,  and  so 
on  for  the  rest 

Eveillez-vous,  belle  endor- 
mie.  Awake,  fair  sleeper 

Execution  Dock,  at  Wap- 
plng  on  the  Thames, 
where  pirates  and  other 
criminals  were  hanged 
and  sometimes  gibbeted 


Fairs  la  cuisine,  to  do 
the  cooking 

Fairy  Mythology  (1838), 
by  Thomas  Keightley 

Faitour,  traitor,  rascal 

Fenwicke,  John,  a  Jesuit, 
agent  in  London  of  St. 
Omer's  College,   execu- 

■  ted  for  complicity  in 
the  Popish  Plot,  in  June 
1679 

Fern-seed,  was  supposed 
to  have  the  power  of 
rendering  people  invisi- 
ble 

Festiis,  probably  an  allu- 
sion to  the  Festus  of 
the  Acts  (xxvi.  25)  as  the 
guardian  of  the  law 

Fico,  a  fig 

Fille  de-joie,  a  courtesan, 
prostitute 

Flagrantibus  odiis,  in  a 
time  when  enmities  were 
hot 

Fleet  Ditch,  a  narrow 
stream,  converted  into 
a  covered  sewer  in  1837, 
hat  ran  down  to  the 
Thames  past  the  eest 
end  of  Fleet  Street 

Fly-boat,  a  light,  swift 
s<ailing-boat 

Fox,  old  slang  for  sword 

F:  ampal,  unruly,  evil- 
jonditioned 

Franklin,  yeoman,  free- 
holder 

f)riar  Bacon'' s  head,  (p. 
248).  In  the  legendary 
folk-tale.  The  History  of 
Friar  Bacon,  that  per- 
son is  stated  to  have 
made  a  head  of  brass,  to 
which  a  demon  gave  the 
power  of  utterance,  and 
it  spake  the  words, 
"Time  is.  Time  was. 
Time  is  past " 

¥rumps,  sulky  fit 

Fuga  dcemonu7ii,  St. 
John's  wort,  popularly 
believed  to  possess  the 
power  of  scaring  away 
evil  spirits 


Fuoruscito,  an  outlaw, 
brigand 

FurnivaVs  family  of,  a 
student  of  Furnival's 
Inn,  one  of  the  old  law- 
studenfs  associations  of 
London 

Gabalis,  Count  of,  a  per- 
siflage of  the  Rosicru- 
cians,  by  De  Montfau- 
con,  Abb6  de  Villars, 
published  in  1670 

Galfridus  minimus,  wee 
little  Geoflfrey 

Gallio.  See  Acts  xviii. 
12-27 

Ganz  ist  verloren,  all  is 
lost 

Garnish,  a  fee  paid  to  the 
gaoler,  or  to  one's  fel- 
low-prisoners, on  first 
entertaining  a  gaol 

"  Get  ye  some  water,''''  etc. 
(p  248),  from  Macbeth, 
Act  ii.  sc.  2 

Ghittnr-finger.  It  was 
formerly  customary  for 
barbers  to  keep  a  ghit- 
tern  or  guitar  in  their 
shops  for  their  custom- 
ers to  strum  upon  while 
waiting  their  turns.  See 
Fortunes  of  Nigel,  chap, 
xxvii. 

Goddard  Crovan,  an  Ice- 
lander, who,  having 
joined  Harold  Hardra- 
da's  expedition  against 
England,  fled  after  the 
battle  of  Stam  ford 
Bridge  to  the  Isle  of 
Man,  where  (after  de- 
feating the  native  king 
on  the  site  of  this  stone) 
he  eventually  founded  a 
new  dynasty 

Godfrey  Sir  Edmunds- 
bury,  Protestant  justice 
of  the  peace  for  West- 
minster, found  murder- 
ed on  17th  Oct.  1678,  be- 
lieved to  have  been  killed 
by  the  Roman  Catholics, 
but  more  probably  by 
some  of  Oates's  gang  of 
conspirators 

Golden  bough,  the  talis- 
man ^neas  took  with 
him,  at  the  bidding  of 
the  sybil,  when  he  went 
down  into  Avernus.  See 
CEneid,  Bk.  vi. 

Golding,  corn-marigold 

Governor  of  Tilbury.  See 
Sheridan,  The  Critic, 
Act  ii.  sc.  2 

Grammont.  See  Hamil- 
ton, Anthony,  Count 

Oreelc  general,  possibly 
Timoleon,  conqueror  of 
Sicily,     who     regarded 


himself   as   an  especial 
favorite  of  Fortune 

Green  boots.  See  Boots, 
green 

Gresham  College,  a  Lon 
don  college  founded  by 
Sir  Thomas  Gresham, 
a  wealthy  Elizabethan 
merchant 

Grogram,  or  grograin,  a 
coarse  textile,  made  of 
mohair  and  silk  or  wool 
and  silk,  and  stiffened 
with  gum 

Groves,  was  executed 
along  with  Pickering  for 
complicity  in  the  Popish 
Plot  in  December  1678 

Groves,  or  Grove,  Hugh, 
agent  of  a  movement  at 
Salisbury  in  1655,  in 
favor  of  Charles  II.,  was 
executed  at  Exeter 

Gunys,  guns 

Gwynnap's  Gothiel  Hall. 
One  T.  Gwennap  had  in 
New  Bond  St.,  London, 
early  in  the  19th  cen- 
tury, a  repository  for 
pictures.  antiquities, 
etc.  ;  and  a  little  later 
there  was  a  Gothic  hall 
in  Piccadilly  containing 
a  collection  of  old  arms 
and  armor 

Gyle-fat,  a  vat  used  in 
brewing 


Hamilton  Anthon  y. 
Count,  a  Scotchman, 
lived  in  France,  except 
during  the  reign  of 
Charles  II.,  best  known 
as  the  author  or  editor 
of  the  Memoirs  of  Count 
de  Grammont,  his 
brother-in-law 

Hampden,  John,  the  Eng- 
lish statesman  who  re- 
fused to  pay  ship-money 
to  Charles  I. 

Hans-mogan,  equivalent 
to  Dutch.  Compare 
Hogan-mogan 

Ha7is  Pickelharing,  or 
Pickelharing,  a  Tom 
Fool,  mountebank 

Harry  Jermyn,  master  of 
the  horse  to  James  Duke 
of  York,  and  one  of  the 
gay  throng  of  Charles 
II. \s  court 

Hand  aliena,  etc.  (p.  593), 
Not  out  of  keeping  with 
what  we  know  of  him 

Haud  equidem,  etc.  (p. 
xi),  I  am  astonished 
rather  than  envious 

Hays,  an  old  country 
dance 

Head-borough^  head  of  a 


S12 


WA  VERLEY  N O  VEL8 


borough,  petty  con- 
stable 

Herring-busa,  boat  of  10 
to  15  tons,  used  in  the 
herring-fishery 

Htnc  nice  lachrymce,  hence 
those  tears 

Hogan-mogan,  a  corrup- 
tion of  hoog  en  mogena, 
"high  and  mighty,"  the 
usual  form  of  address 
to  the  Netherlands 
States-General ;  hence, 
a  Dutchman 

Hog  in  armor,  the  device 
of  a  signboard  in  Hang- 
ing Sword  Court,  Fleet 
Street,  London.  It  was 
sometimes  known  as 
"  The  Pig  in  Misery  " 

Horseleech,  an  inveterate 
beggar,  extortionate 
person  ;  for  daughter  of 
the  horseleech,  see  Pro- 
verbs XXX.  15 

Huckaback,  coarse,  rough 
linen  stuff 

Hundsfoot,  or  hundsfott, 
a  cowardly  villain 

Hustle-cap,  a  game  like 
pitch-and-toss 

Ignoramus,  the  term  writ- 
ten   by   a    grand   jury 
across  a  bill  or  subject 
presented  to  them  for  in- 
vestigation,   but   which 
they  deemed  it  inexped- 
ient or  unnecessary  to 
inquire  into 
Immodicum    surgit,    etc. 
(p.  xiv),  his    enormous 
nose    protrudes   like   a 
spear 
Indamora,  the  heroine  of 
Dryden's   tragedy,   Au- 
rungzbe 
In  esse,  in  actual  fact 
In  hoc  signo,  by  this  sign 
In  posse,  in  possibility 
In  terrorem,  as  a  warning 

to  others 
Intra  parietes,  within  (my 
own)  room 

Jacobus,  gold  coin— 20s., 
first  issued  by  James  I, 
of  England 

"  Jemigan  —  Jemigan,^'' 
etc.  (p.  507),  from  Vicar 
of  Wakefield,  chap.  xi. 

Jeu  de  mots,  play  on  words 

Jocose  hoCy  this  by  way  of 
fun 

Johnson'' 8  anchorita  (p. 
xvi),  in  the  verses  en- 
titled Imitation  of  the 
Style  of  .  .  . 

Judith  freed  Bethulia. 
See  The  Book  of  Judith 
in  the  Apocrypha;  Ju- 
dith in  the  Holy  Apocry- 


pha, or  the  story  of  Ju- 
dith and  Holofernes. 
See  Book  of  Judith,  chap, 
xiii. 

Kennel,  the  gutter 

King  -  Maker.  See  War- 
wick, Earl  of 

King  of  Garbo.  See  De- 
cameron, Giom.  Sec, 
Nov.  VII. 

Kit,  small  violin  used  by 
dancing-masters 

Knipperdolings.  Ana-bap- 
tists, so  called  from 
Bernhard  Knipperdol- 
ling,  their  leader  at 
Miinster  in  Westphalia, 
in  the  middle  of  the  16th 
century 

Knowte,  or  nowt,  horned 
cattle 

Kystis,  chests 

La  belle  cousine,  your  fair 
cousin 

La  belle  Hamilton,  Eliza- 
beth Hamilton,  sister  of 
Count  Anthony  and  wife 
of  Count  de  Grammont, 
a  brilliant  beauty  of  the 
court  of  Charles  II. 

Lachrymce,  tears,  lament- 
ations 

Lachrymce  Christi,  red 
wine  grown  on  the  slopes 
of  Vesuvius 

Lady  Politic  Wouldbe^  a 
character  in  Ben  Jon- 
son's  comedy,  Volpone ; 
or.  The  Fox  (1605).  For 
"breast-laws"  (p.  172) 
we  ought  perhaps  to 
read  "  dress-laws,"  dress 
being  what  Lady  Politic 
was  specially  interested 
in  at  Venice 

Lambswool,  ale  seasoned 
with  nutmeg,  sugar,  and 
the  pulp  of  roasted 
apples 

Langdale  Sir  Marmaduke, 
a  cavalry  commander  on 
the  side  of  Charles  I.  in 
the  Civil  War 

Latham,  or  Lathom,  House, 
in  the  north  of  Lanca- 
shire, defended  by  the 
Countess  of  Derby 
twelve  weeks  against 
Fairfax,  until  relieved 
by  Prince  Ruport  in  May 
1644 

Lav^s  propria  sordet,  self- 
praise  is  offensive 

Lawson  Sir  John,  Vice- 
Admiral  of  the  Common- 
wealth, killed  off  Lowes- 
toft, 8d  June  1665 

Leaguer,  camp,  generally 
a  fortified  or  entrenched 
winter  camp 


Ijcda,  In  ancient  Greek 
mythology  the  mother 
by  Zeus  of  two  pairs  of 
twins 

Lee,  Nathaniel,  dramatist, 
who  sometimes  wrote  in 
conjunction  with  Dry- 
den 

Le  Notre  Andri,  French 
landscape  gardener, 
(161:3-1700),  planned  St. 
James's  ana  Greenwich 
Parks 

Le  prix  juste,  the  fair 
price 

L€wkenor''8  Lane,  now 
called  Charles  Street, 
Drury  Lane,  formerly  a 
haunt  of  low  characters 

Liber  pater,  Bacchus,  the 
god  of  wine 

Licentia  exeundi,  leave  to 
go  out 

Lignum  vitce,  sort  of  hard 
wood 

Limbo  patrum,  that  inter- 
mediate region  between 
earth  and  heaven  where 
the  patriarchs  wait  for 
the  coming  of  the  Mes- 
siah ;  also  jail,  confine- 
ment 

Lingua  franca,  a  corrupt 
Italian,  spoken  by  Euro- 
peans in  the  Levant 

Looby-land,  lubber-land 

Lord  Stafford.  William 
Howard,  Viscount  Staf- 
ford, was  beheaded  in 
December  1680,  when  an 
old  man  of  close  upon 
seventy  for  alleged  com- 
plicity   in    the    Popish 

Louis,    or    louis    d^or,  a 

French  gold  coin  —  16s. 

6d.  tol8s.  6d. 
Lucio'' s   excuse.     See 

Shakespeare's  Measure 

for  Measure,  Act.  v.  sc.  1 
Lug  out  upon,  draw  sword 

upon,  resent  sword  in 

hand 
Lusus  naturce,  freak  of 

nature 

Madge-Howlet,  the  owl 

Mailzie,  cote  of^  cote  of 
mail 

Mains,  the  home-farm,  the 
farmstead  and  its  neces- 
sary buildings 

Maire  de  palais,  mayor 
of  the  palace,  a  sort  of 
prime  minister 

Major  Semple,  after  serv- 
ing In  the  hulks,  went  to 
Paris,  where  he  is  said  to 
have  conducted  Louis 
XVI.  to  the  scaffold.  He 
gained  his  rank  after 
that   in  the  Dutch  ser 


OLOSSABY 


613 


vic*» ;  and  stabbed  him- 
self in  Newgate  on  21st 
December  1796,  to  escape 
being  sent  to  Botany 
Bay  for  swindling 

Mall,  a  game  of  ball 
played  in  a  smooth  alley 
boarded  on  either  side, 
and  with  an  iron  arch  at 
the  end,  through  which 
the  ball  was  struck 

Malum  in  se,  evil  in  itself 

Mandane^  heroine  of 
Mdile.  Scud6ri's  Arta- 
mene,  or  Qrand  Cyrus 
(1650) 

Martello  towers^  strong 
circular  forts  built  for 
coast  defense,  especially 
at  thetime  of  Napoleon's 
threatened  invasion  of 
England 

Mnunna,  must  not 

Meal-tub  Plot,  a  fictitious 
conspiracy  concocted  by 
Dangerfleld.  The  scheme 
was  cone  jaled  in  a  meal- 
tub  in  the  house  of  Mrs. 
Collier  (1685) 

Mein  Oott,  my  God  I 

Mercuriv^  Aulicus,  by  Sir 
John  Birkenhead,  was  a 
kind  of  Royalist  journal 
(quarto,  weekly)  issued 
at  Oxford  from  1642  to 
1645,  and  occasionally 
afterwards 

Mete  burde,  or  Metewand, 
a  yard  measure 

Micher,  a  mean  thief 

Microcosm,  a  world  In 
miniature ;  hence  man, 
as  being  an  epitome  of 
the  great  universe 

Minauderie,  affectation 

Mohun,  Michael,  actor  of 
Theater  Royal,  Drury 
Lane,  was  a  major  in 
the  Royal  army  during 
the  Civil  War  ;  he  died 
in  1684 

Montagu  House,  on  the 
site  now  covered  by  the 
British  Museum 

Montero  cap,  huntsman's 
cap  provided  with  flapj 

Morisco,  Moorish 

Mote,  or  Moot,  the  place 
of  meeting  of  a  folkmote 
or  similar  popular  as- 
sembly 

Motion  of  puppets,  a  pup- 
pet-show 

Mrff.  Nelly,  Nell  Gwynne, 
actress  and  mistress  of 
Charles  II.  Compare 
Note  38,  p.  598 

Mum,  "  species  of  fat  al«, 
brewed  from  wheat  and 
bitter  herbs "  (Anti- 
quary, chap.  xi.  p.  91) 

MtLtgro^^^t  iSTtr  Philip,   a 


faithful  adherent  of  the 
Royalist  cause 
Muster,  pattern,  model 

Nantz,  French  brandy 

Naunt,  a  corruption  of 
"•  mine  aunt " 

Neither  meddle  nor  make 
more,  not  interfere  in 
any  way  whatever 

Non  omnibus  dormio,  I  do 
not  sleep  to  please 
everybody  —  a  Roman 
proverb  put  into  the 
mouth  of  a  complaisant 
husband 

Obstuput,  etc.  (p.  xi),  I 
was  thunderstruck,  and 

my  hair  stood  on  end 

October,  ale  brewed  in 
October,  good  ale 

Old  Rowley,  nickname  of 
Charles  II. 

Ormond,  or  Ormonde, 
James  Butler,  first  Duke 
of,  a  devoted  adherent 
of  the  Stuarts 

Oroondates,  a  character 
in  La  Calpren6de's  ro- 
mance of  Cassandra  (10 
vols.  1642) 

"  Oui,  tout  verlore,''"'  etc. 
(p.  600),  Yes,  all  lost, 
most  certainly  lost 

Owlenspiegel,  or  Tyll 
Eulenspiegel,  a  popular 
chap-book  recording  the 
pranks  of  a  hero  so 
named 

Padder,  highway  robber 

Palmerin  of  England,  the 
hero  of  a  romance  of 
chivalry 

Paphos,  an  ancient  city  of 
Cyprus,  where  Venus 
was  specially  wor- 
shipped ;  hence  in  this 
{)assage  the  kingdom  of 
ove 

Par  vote  de  fait,  by  force 
of  arms,  violent  meas- 
ures 

Pas  seul,  dance  by  a 
single  performer 

Passio  hysterica,  hysteria 

Pateraro,  or  Pederero, 
kind  of  small  cannon, 
for  firing  salutes,  dis- 
charging stones,  etc. 

Pave,  pavement 

Peel  Castle,  is  12  miles, 
not  8,  from  Castletown 

Penruddock,  John,  agent 
of  a  movement  at  Salis- 
bury ia  1655  in  favor  of 
Charles  II.,  was  execut- 
ed at  Exeter 

Perdue,  hidden 

Per  Salium,  at  a  leap, 
bound         <    . I . . 


Peters,  Hugh,  a  fanaticaJ 
preacher,  who  is  said 
(by  Bishop  Kennet)  to 
have  been  one  of  the 
masked  executioners  of 
Charles  I. ,  against  whom 
he  was  virulently  em- 
bittered 

Petite  maitresse,  a  vain 
and  affected  woman,  a 
woman  of  studied  ele- 
gance in  dress  and  man- 
ners 

Phidele,  or  Phidyle.  8e§ 
Horace,  Odes,  Bk.  iii.  28 

Phillis,  a  general  name 
for  a  rustic  beauty 

Piccoluomini,  an  Italian 
word  signifying  "  little 
men  " 

Pickeririg,  executed  for 
complicity  in  the  Popish 
Plot  in  December  1078 

Pineal  Gland,  the  seat  of 
the  soul,  according  to 
the  plrilosopher  I)es> 
cartes 

Pink,  a  vessel  or  boat  with 
a  narrow  stern 

Pinner,  flap  of  a  lady's 
head-dress 

PistoVs  dimensions,  meant 
evidently  for  Sir  John 
Falstaff's  dimensions, 
which  Pistol  indicates  in 
Merry  Wives  of  Wind- 
sor, Act.  i.  sc.  3 

Plats,  dishes 

Plumer  la  poule,  etc.  (p. 
372),  to  pluck  the  fowl 
without  making  it  cry 
out 

Porter ly  u-himsy,  a  por- 
ter'c,  i.e.  a  vulgar,  mood, 
whim 

Posse  comitatus,  men 
summoned  by  the  sheriff 
to  enforce  a  warrant  or 
legal  act 

Posso  tirare,  I  can  shoot 

Post  obit,  after  death 

Pound  Scots  — =  Is.  8d.  Eng- 
lish 

Poyntz,  whose  real  name 
is  said  to  have  been  John 
Morris,  a  Cromwellian 
general,  who  in  1645  de- 
feated the  King's  cav- 
alry at  Chester 

Precisian,  Puritan 

Priest's  hiding-hole,  a 
secret  apartment  in  a 
manor-house,  in  which 
the  ejected  or  perse- 
cuted clergy  were  fre- 
quently hidden 

Prinked,  behave  affect- 
edly with  one's  dress. 
The  phrase  "  prinked 
hersell  and  prinned  her- 
sell"  (p.  120)  is  taken 
from  ''  The  Young  Tarn 


B14 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


lane,"  In  The  Minstrelsy 
of  the  Scottish  Border 

Prinned,  preened,  as  a 
bird  does  ?.ts  feathers. 
See  Prinked 

Projection,  the  transmut- 
ing of  a  metal— a  term 
in  alchemy 

Prolusion,  a  preliminary- 
performance,  exercise 

Properare  in  mediani  rem, 
to  hasten  to  the  point 

Prophetess,  inspired  (p. 
156),  Deborah.  See 
Judges  iv. 

Provant  rapier,  sword 
supplied  from  the  army 
stores 

Provincial  (of  the  Jesuits), 
the  superior  officer 
charged  with  the  affairs 
of  an  ecclesiastical  pro- 
vince 

Parcel,  or  Purcell,  Henry, 
English  musical  com- 
poser of  the  17th  cen- 
tury 

fynson,  Richard,  an  Eng- 
lish printer  of  the  reign 
of  Henry  VII. 

Quern  ego ,  whom  I 

Quocunque  jeceris  stahit, 
in  whatever  way  you 
place  it,  it  will  stand 

Rachel  Russell,  Lady,  the 
devoted  wife  of  Lord 
William  Russell,  exe- 
cuted In  1683  for  com- 
plicity \n  Monmouth's 
reoellion 

Ratafia,  a  sweet  cordial 
flavored  with  fruits 

Regale,  treat,  entertain- 
ment 

Renitente  cancellario,  the 
chancellor  opposing  the 
decision 

Resolutes  (Norwegian),  de- 
termined persons.  The 
f)hrase  is  used  in  Ham- 
et.  Act  i.  sc.  1 

Restiff,  or  restive,  stub- 
born, obstinate 

Ring  in  the  Park,  fashion- 
able resort  in  Hyde  Park 

Rogue  Harrison,  Thomas 
Harrison,  the  regicide 
and  supporter  of  Crom- 
well 

Roi  faineant,  a  do-noth- 
ing king.  Name  given 
to  the  degenerate  kings 
of  the  Merovingian  dy- 
nasty of  France 

Rooked,  cheated,  got  the 
better  of 

Boquelaure,  short  cloak 

Bosate,  Queme  of,  prob- 
ably a  hand-mill  of  some 
red  stone 


Rose  Coffee-House,  in  Rus- 
sell Street,  Covent  Gar- 
den, London,  where 
Dryden  had  a  chair  re- 
served for  him 

Rosicrucian,  a  mystical 
philosopher  of  the  17th 
century,  who  professed 
the  transmutation  of 
metals,  and  practised 
magic,  alchemy,  etc. 

Rouse,  a  bumper 

Roxalana,  Elizabeth  Da- 
venport, so  called  from 
the  character  she  as- 
sumed in  Sir  Wm. 
D'Avenant's  play.  The 
Siege  of  Rhodes,  in  1660 


St.  Bartholomew'' s  Day, 
24th  August.  See  Note 
7,  p.  581 

St.  Evremond,  Seigneur 
de,  famous  French  wit 
at  the  court  of  Charles 
II.,  died  in  London  in 
1703 

St.  Omer''s,  in  France,  26 
miles  from  Calais,  where 
was  a  college  for  Eng- 
lish and  Irish  Roman 
Catholics 

Salmagundi,  an  Italian 
dish  of  minced  meat, 
eggs,  anchovies,  sea- 
soned with  onions,  oil, 
etc. 

Saraband,  a  Spanish 
dance 

Sarsenet,  thin,  soft  silk 

Scalded,  or  Scalled,  scur- 
vy, mean 

Scanderbeg,  or  Iskander 
(Alexander)  Beg  or  Bey, 
Albanian  patriot  chief 
of  the  15th  century 

Schelm,  scoundrel 

Scilly,  rocks  of,  an  allusion 
to  the  Elizabethan  for- 
tress of  Star  Castle 
(1593)  on  St.  Mary's  Is- 
land 

Scuddri,  Mdlle  de,  author 
of  long-winded  senti- 
mental romances,  lived 
at  Paris  in  the  17th  cen- 
tury 

Sedley,  Sir  Charles,  a  wit 
and  poet  of  Charles 
II.'s  reign 

Seged  of  Ethiopa.  See 
Dr.  Johnson's  Rambler, 
Nos.  204,  205 

Seiltanzer,  tight  -  rope 
dancer 

Sellenger''s  Round,  an  old 
tune  played  to  dancers 
round  the  Maypole 

Semple.  <See  Major  Semple 

Sheffield,  John,  Duke  of 
Buckinghamshire^   cele- 


brated as  a  wit  and  a 
statesman  (1649-1721) 

Shelley,  George,  cali- 
grapher,  published  The 
Penman's  Magazine,  or 
a  New  Copy-  Book  of  the 
English,  French,  and 
Italian  Hands  (London, 
1705) 

Silver  Greyhound  (p.  73), 
the  badge  worn  by  a 
king's  messenger  or 
warrant-officer 

Sir  Andrew  (p.  364).  See 
Shakespeare's  Twelfth 
Night,  Act.  i.  sc.  3 ;  but 
Sir  Andrew's  words  are 
"  I  would  I  might  never 
draw  sword  again." 

Skeldering,  living  by 
swindling,  especially  in 
the  character  of  a  dis- 
abled soldier 

Smuggling,  cuddling, 
fondling 

Snaefell,  meaning  Snow- 
mountain,  the  loftiest 
summit  in  the  Isle  of 
Man 

Solus,  alone 

Soupe  aux  crivisses,  or 
ecrevisses,  soup  made  of 
crayfish 

Souper  au  petit  couvert, 
supper  without  cere» 
mony 

South,  Dr.  Robert,  a 
theologian  and  scholar, 
celebrated  for  his  wit 

Squab,  unfledged  (pigeon) 

Stand  (of  ale),  cask,  vat 

Still-room,  store-room 

Stingo,  strong  old  beer 

Stane-hose,  stallion 

Stoup,  a  flagon,  tankard 

Stroke  (of  malt),  or  strike, 
the  quantity  that  goes 
to  a  brewing 

Super  naculum,  an  allu- 
sion to  the  custom  of 
turning  the  glass  upside 
down  and  draining  it  on 
the  thumb-nail,  to  prove 
that  every  drop  of  the 
liquor  has  been  drunk 

Suzerainty,  rights  as  lords 
paramount 

Sydney,  or  Sidney,  Sir 
Philip,  the  soldier, 
courtier,  and  poet  of 
Elizabeth's  reign 


Tandem  triumphans,  at 
length  triumphant 

Tantivy  to  Rome,  ride,  to 
ride  at  full  gallop,  shout* 
ine  the  fox-hunter's  cry 
"Tantivy."  In  James 
H's  time  High  Church 
Tories  were  nicknamed 
Tantivies 


GLOSSAUr 


613 


fajmiced,  crouched  low, 
hidden 

Tekeli,  or  Tokely,  Emme- 
rich, Count  of,  leader  of 
the  Protestants  in  Hun- 
gary, allied  himself  with 
the  Turks,  who  recog- 
nized him  as  king  of 
Hungary  in  1682 

Termagant,  turbulent, 
brawling,  from  a  sup- 
posed Mohammedan 
devil,  that  played  a 
lively  role  in  the  medi- 
aeval mystery-plays 

Themis,  goddess  of  justice, 
in  ancient  Greek  myth- 
ology 

Thrum,  made  of  waste 
yarn 

Tilbury.  See  Governor  of 
Tilbury 

JYZi,  awning 

Tirzah,  where  Zimri,  the 
king  of  Israel,  held  his 
court 

Tohit  in  the  house  of 
Raguel.  See  The  Book 
of  Tobit,  ch.  vi.,  in  the 
Apocrypha 

"  To  fly  the  boar,''  etc.  (p. 
16),  in  Richard  III.,  Act 
iii.  sc.  2 

Tour  de  son  metier,  one 

of  his  tricks 

"  Tout  est  verlore,''*  etc. 
(p.  532),  All  is  lost.  La 
tintelore  !  By  God  I  All 
is  lost 

Trap-ball,  game  played 
with  a  trap,  bat,  and  ball 

Traversing,  using  the  pos- 
tures of  opposition,  as 
in  fencing 

Trepan,  or  trapan,  snare 

Trollop,  slattern  , 

Trunnion,  a  stake,  tree- 
trunk,  truncheon 

Tuck,  sword 

Tu  me  lo  pagheral,  you 
shall  pay  me  back  for  it 

Tutbury  running.  Under 
a  charter  granted  by 
John  of  Gaunt  in  1381, 
the  minstrels  in  the  hon- 
or of  Tutbury,  Stafford- 
shire, held  a  court  there 
on  16th  August,  and  were 
allowed  to  chase  a  mad- 
dened bull,  which  if  they 
caught  before  sunset' 
they  were  permitted  to 
keep 


Twiggen,  encased  in  twigs 

or  wicker-work 
Tydev^,  king  of  Calydon, 

and  one  of  the  heroes  of 

the  war  against  Thebes 

in  Greece 


Vail,  to  lower 

Valdarar,  perhaps  Val- 
d  a  r  f  e  r,  a  printer  of 
Milan,  15th  century 

Vale  Royal,  three  miles 
from  Northwich  in 
Cheshire 

Vallis  Negotii,  the  place 
of  public  business 

Vane,  Sir  Harry,  a 
staunch  republican, 
chief  commissioner  for 
treating  with  the  Scots 
in  1643 

Verjuice,  sourness,  a  kind 
of  vinegar 

Vicit  Leo  ex  tribu  Judce, 
the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of 
Judah  has  conquered 

Victoria,  etc.  (p.  439), 
Victory,  victory,  truth  is 
great,  and  it  will  pre- 
vail 

Vogue  La  galere,  come 
what  may 

Volte-face,  wheel  round, 
right  about  turn 


Wakeman,  Sir  George, 
physician  to  Catherine 
of  Braganza,  Charles 
II.'s  queen,  was  acquit- 
ted of  complicity  in  the 
Popish  Plot  in  July  1679 

Waller,  Edmund,  a  poet 
of  the  Commonwealth 
and  Restoration  periods, 
famous  for  the  sweet- 
ness of  his  verse 

Walling  ford  House, 
where  the  Admiralty 
now  stands,  was  used  by 
Cromwell  and  his  sup- 
porters for  consultations 
during  the  Common- 
wealth period 

Wannion,  with  a,  with  a 
vengeance,  curses  upon 
him  1 

War-caper,  privateer 

Warwick,  Earl  of.  It  was 
not  the  King-maker,  but 
the  Earl  of  Warwick  of 
Richard  II'.s  reign,  who 


In  1897  was  committed 
to  Peel  Castle  as  a  pris- 
oner 

Weather-headed, 
wether-headed,  sheepish- 
looking,  stupid 

Wechselbalg,  a  changeling 

Westminister  Hall,  fac- 
tion of,  the  Royalist 
party 

*^What  wouldst  thou 
have,''  etc.  (p.xvii),  from 
an  old  ballad  on  the 
northern  rebellion  of 
1569,  reprinted  by  Bishop 
Percy 

Whinger^  whinyard, 
short  sword,  hanger 

Whistle-drunk,  too  druuk 
to  whistle 

Whitbread,  or  White^ 
bread,  one  of  the  five 
Jesuits  executed  for 
complicity  in  the  Popish 
Plot  in  June  1679 

White  Horse  Tavern,  in 
the  Strand,  where,  ac- 
cording to  Gates' s  Nar- 
rative, as  read  before  the 
privy  council  in  Sep- 
tember 1678,  the  Jesuits 
met  in  conspiracy  in  the 
preceding  April 

Whitelocke,  Bulstrode, 
ambassador  to  Sweden 
in  1653-54,  sent  thither 
by  Cromwell 

White-seam,  linen  under- 
clothing in  process  of 
making 

Who  but  he,  indispensable 
to 

"  Wincing  she  was,"  etc. 
(p.  233),  slightly  altered 
from  '  The  Miller  s  Tale' 
of  The  Canterbury  Tales 

Wits'  Coffee-house,  in  St. 
Jarhes's  Street ;  but  pro- 
bably Rose  Tavern  in 
Russell  Street,  Covent 
Garden,  is  meant,  it 
being  a  favorite  resort 
of  wits  and  men  of 
fashion 


York  Buildings,  the  palace 
of  the  Dukes  of  Buck' 
ingham 

Zechin,    or   sequin,    gold 

Byzantine  coin  —  9s.  4d. 

Zegris.    iSeeAbenoerragei 


qwA 


INDEX  TO  PEVERIL  OP  THE  PEAK. 


Althorpk  Library,  xvi 
Arlington,  Earl  of,  829,  518,  529,  606 
Arnastrong,  Sir  Thomas,  507,  611 
Assassins,  employment  of,  in  England, 

827,  606 
Attorney- General,  479 
Author,  his  Introduction,  v  ;  Interview 
with  Dr.  Dryasdust,  xi ;  personal  ap- 
pearance, xiv 

Bayley,  John,  History  of  the  Tower  of 
London^  quoted,  618 

Beacon,  Tom,  Chiffinch's  groom,  248, 
317 

Birkenhead,  (Sir)  John,  quoted,  564 

Black  Fort,  Isle  of  Man,  117 

Blind  Willie,  acuteness  of,  559 

Blood,  Colonel,  set  on  Christian's  track, 
440  ;  ejected  from  the  Tower,  467  ;  his 
Narrative,  609 ;  Evelyn's  notice  of, 
610  ;  history  of,  613-621 

Brldgenorth,  Alice,  birth  of,  7;  taken 
charge  of  by  Lady  Peveril,  8 ;  chris- 
tened, 9 ;  her  father's  delight  in  her, 
14 ;  carried  off  by  Deborah,  79 ;  rela- 
tions with  Julian,  124,  130 ;  dances 
before  her  father,  126 ;  visited  by 
Julian  135 ;  interrupted  by  her  father, 
139;  meets  Julian  at  Goddard  Cro- 
van's  stone,  181 ;  at  Moultrassie  Hall, 
275  ;  releases  Julian,  296  ;  Christian's 
intrigue  against  her,  310,  829,  340,  429  ; 
placed  with  Madam  Chiffinch,  360; 
appears  suddenly  before  Charles  II., 
862  ;  departs  with  Julian,  869  ;  under 

.  Lady  Peveril's  care,  549;  her  mar- 
riage, 561 

Bridgenorth,  Major,  3;  relations  with 
the  Peverils,  4  ;  death  of  his  wife,  7  ; 
goes  to  Martindale  Castle,  13  ;  objects 
to  the  drinking  of  healths,  24  ;  breaks 
up  the  festivity,  39 :  meets  the  Count- 
ess of  Derby,  44;  indignation  at  her 
execution  of  Christian,  53 ;  arrested 
by  Lady  Peveril's  orders,  57 ;  his  es- 
cape discovered,  66  ;  pursues  the 
countess,  74 ;  unhorsed  by  Sir  Geof- 
frey, 75  ;  his  letter  to  Lady  Peveril, 
80 ;  refuses  Peveril's  challenge,  93 ; 
scene  with  Lady  Peveril  in  the  avenue, 
104  ;  surprises  Julian  and  Alice,  139  ; 
checks  Deborah's  volubility.  148  ;  his 
tale  of  Whalley,  153  ;  interrupts  Ju- 
lian and  Alice  at  Goddard  Crovan's 
^tone,  188;   shot  at  by  Julian,  385  : 


Al7 


takes  him  to  Moultrassie  Hall,  id , 
conversation    with    him,  282 ;    inter- 
view with  Christian  about  Alice,  884  ; 
appears   before     tlie   Peverils,   491  ; 
shows  Julian  the  conventicle,  495 
Bridgenorth,  Mrs.,  4  ;  death  of,  7 
Bridlesley,  Joe,  horse-dealer,  224 
Buckingham,  Duchess  of,  607 
Buckingham,  Duke  of,  his  levee,  323; 
his  talks  with  Jerningham.  324,  4^3, 
440;    interviews   with  Christian,  827, 
435  ;  pursues  Alice,  363  ;  York  House, 
427  ;  sets  Colonel  Blood  on  Christian's 
heels,  440  ;   visit  to  his  fair  captive, 
447;  bickerings  with  Ormond,  465  ;  in- 
stigated to  rebellion  by  Christian,  501 ; 
summoned  to  court,  510 ;   questions 
Chiffinch,  531  ;  reception  by  the  King, 
544 :  explanation  to  Charles  II.,  546 ; 
asks  his  forgiveness,  557 ;  his  father- 
in-law,  607 
Burgess,  Anthony,  163 
"  But  when  he  came  near,"  467 


Captain  of  the  jail,  Newgate,  888 

Castleton.  Derbyshire,  1 

Cat  and  Fiddle  Inn,  229 

Catherine  (of  Braganza),  Queen,  616 

Cavaliers,  rollicking  character  of,  82, 
89,  578  ;  treatment  of,  after  the  Res- 
toration, 61 

Century  White,  See  White,  Old  Cen- 
tury 

Chaloner,  cited,  569 ;  quoted,  594 

Chamberlain,  Matt,  262 

Charles  II.,  personal  description  of,  849 ; 
at  Madam  Chiffinch's,  361  ;  surprised 
by  Alice  Bridgenorth  and  Bucking- 
ham, 362  ;  takes  the  packet,  368  ;  rela- 
tions with  Nell  Gwyn,  460,  610  ;  visit 
to  the  Tower,  462 ;  his  black  periwig, 
508,  611  ;  holds  court,  512 ;  receives 
the  Countess  of  Derby,  516  ;  Bucking- 
ham accused  to  him,  523  ;  reception 
of  Buckingham,  544;  pardons  him, 
656  ;  makes  Fenella  speak,  559  ;  ban- 
ishes  Christian,  560 

Chaubert,  Chiffinch's  French  Cook,  246 ; 
unhorsed  by  Lance  Outram,  819 

Chiffinch,  at  the  hostelry,  246  ;  at  the 
Inn,  617 ;  betrays  his  schemes,  310 ; 
stopped  by  Julian,  819  ;  his  share  in 
Christian's  intrigue,  848  ;  differences 

with  Madam.  4fi9 :  summons  Buckiner- 


618 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


ham  to  court,  510 ;  questioned  by  him 
on  the  way,  531 

Chifflnch,  Madam,  receives  Fenella  and 
Julian,  353  ;  gossips  with  Empson, 
354  ;  diflferences  with  Chifflnch,  459  ; 
ignored  by  the  King,  461 

Christian,  Edward,  fictitious  and  real 
person,  vii,  245,  593  ;  account  of,  1C9  , 
at  the  horse-dealer's,  225 ;  at  the  Cat 
and  Fiddle,  231  ;  sticks  to  Julian,  238  ; 
at  the  hostelry,  246 ;  at  Moultrassie 
Hall,  278 ;  his  intrigue  against  Alice 
Bridgenorth,  310,  329,  340,  429  ;  inter- 
views with  Buckingham,  327,  435  ;  in- 
terview with  Bridgenorth,  334 ;  his 
character,  338  ;  meeting  with  Julian, 
498  ;  instigates  Buckingham  to  rebel- 
lion, 501 ;  conversation  with  Fenella, 
535 ;  before  Charles  II.,  554  ;  banished, 
560  ;  historical  account  of,  563 

Christian,  George,  572 ;  his  petition, 
575 

Christian,  Mrs.,  widow  of  William,  125 

Christian,  William,  story  of,  vi.  50  ;  por- 
trait of,  119,  584 ;  historical  account 
of,  563  ;  trial  of,  568,  588  ;  last  speech 
of,  570  ;  lament  over,  574 

Christian  family,  565 

Clegg,  Holdfast,  mill  wright,  31 

Clin*,  turnkey,  891,  419 

Coleby,  Major,  425,  463  ;  expires  in  the 
Tower,  465 

Coleman,  252,  594 

Conventicle,  of  religious  fanatics,  495 

Coventry's  Act,  432,  609 

Cranbourne,  Sir  Jasper,  83 ;  proposes 
"  the  King,"  36  ;  carries  Sir  Geoffrey  s 
challenge  to  Bridgenorth,  93 

Cresswell,  Mother,  funeral  oration  on, 
501,  611 

Dancing-girl,  sale  of,  222,  591 
Dangerfield,  Captain,  227,  268,  479 
Davenant,  satire  on  Geoffrey  Hudson, 

609 
Debbitch,  Deborah,  41  ;  carries  off  Alice, 
79  ;  at  the  Black  Fort,  119  ;  her  reflec- 
tions,   128  ;    her   over-eager   self-de- 
fense, 147  ;   incurs  Bridgenorth's  dis- 
pleasure, 277 ;    visit  to  Dame  EUes- 
mere,285  ;  discharged  by  Bridgenorth, 
301 
Deemster  or  Dempster,  Isle  of  Man,  567 
Derby,  Charles,  eighth  Earl  of,  112, 569 ; 
his   conversations   with   Julian,  115, 
163  ;  his  levity,  165 
Derby,  Countess  of,  her  religious  faith, 
viii ;  sudden  appearance,  43 ;  conver- 
sation with  Lady  Peveril,  45  ;  defense 
of  Latham  House,  47  ;  her  account  of 
Christian,  50 ;  defies  Bridgenorth,  54 ; 
her  flight  from  Martindale  Castle,  69 ; 
uses  her  son's  signet,  166;   consults 
Julian,  201 ;  sends  him  to  London,  206, 
211 ;  appears  at  court,  516 ;   in  the 
audience-chamber,  554 
Derby,  James,  seventh  Earl  of,  3.  48,  564 
IMidne.  William.    See  Christian,  William 
Ditchley,  Gaflfer,  miner,  290 
Dowlas,  Dame,  447 
Dryasdiust,  Dr.,  Prefatory  Letter  from, 


Dummerar,  Dr.,  27 ;  moralizes,  83 ;  re- 
stored to  his  vicarage,  88 
Dun,  the  hangman,  254,  605 

Ellesmere,  Dame,  41,  46 ;  her  report  of 
Deborah.  78  ;  spite  at  her,  83  ;  visited 
by  her,  285 

Empson,  flageolet-player,  849:  gossip 
with  Madam  Chifflnch,  354 

Evelyn,  Memoirs,  quoted,  610 

Everett,  the  witness,  227,  268,  479 

Fairfax,  General,  829,  569 
Fairies,  Manxmen's  belief  in,  587 
Fairy,  Julian's  pony,  117,  158 
Fenella,  prototype  of,  viii ;  introduced, 
164  ;  tries  to  stop  Julian,  174  ;  her  in- 
terest in  him,  198,  218  ;  guides  him  to 
the  boat,  214 ;   leaps  after  him,  216 ; 
the   skipper's   account  of  her,  221 ; 
stops  Julian  in  the  Savoy,  347 ;  dances 
before  the  King,  349  :  at  Madam  Chif. 
finch's,  354 ;   joins  Julian  and  Alice, 
375  ;   takes  Alice's  place,  450  ;   balks 
Buckingham,   457  ;     interview    with 
Christian,  535;  before  the  King,  554; 
surprised  into  betraying  herself,  559 
Fountainhall,  Decisions,  quoted,  591 
Fuller's  Rents,  510,  608,  611 

Ganlesse.    See  Christian,  Edward 
Giants,  Geoffrey  Hudson  on,  411 
Glossary,  623 
Gloucester,  Duchess  of,  in  Peel  .Castle, 

162 
Goddard  Crovan  Stone,  180 
Godfrey,  Sir  Edmondsbury,  funeral  of, 

252,  605 
Goldsmith,  cited,  608 
Green  Ribbon  Club,  611 
Gwyn,  Nell,  460,  610 

Haddon  Hall,  Derbyshire,  580 

Hartley,  Nick,  73 

Healths,  drinking  of,  24,  36 

"  Hey  for  cavaliers,"  11 

Hodgson,  Captain,  his  Memoirs  quoted, 
581 

Hodnet  Library,  xvi 

Holm  Peel.    See  Peel  Castle 

Horse-racing,  in  Isle  of  Man,  114,  583 

Hudson,  Sir  Geoffrey,  392,  395  ;   his  ex- 
ploits,  397,  527,  609,  612 ;  discourses  on        j 
giants,  411 ;    before  the  Lord  Chief       1 
Justice,  471  ;  defends  himself  against       i 
the  mob,  487;   rebukes  Sir  Geoffrey 
Peveril,  493 ;  leaps  out  of  the  violon- 
cello case,  521 ;  denounces  Bucking- 
ham, 522  ;  his  wrath  against  him,  547 

Hume,  History  of  England,  quoted,  603 

Hurried  departure,  451,  610 

Hutchinson,  History  of  Cumberland 
cited,  565 

Indians,  tale  of,  153 
Introduction,  Author's,  v 
Isle  of  Man.    See  Man,  Isle  of 

Jenkins,  Buckingham's  bravo,  878 
Jerningham,  Buckingham's  confidant, 

824,  ^8, 440 ;  the  Author  on  the  name^ 

607 


INDEX  TO  PEVEBIL  OF  THE  PEAK 


619 


Latham  House,  defense  of,  47 
"  Let  God  arise,"  31 
Liverpool,  time  of  tale,  233 
Lizzie,  dumb,  ix 
London,  sheriffs  of,  524,  611 

MacCulloch,  Cutlar,  250,  593 

MacFarlane,  Mrs.,  in  hiding,  579 

Magnus,  Olaus,  cited,  582 

Man,  Isle  of,  during  civil  wars,  49, 114, 
563  ;  etc.  ;  pastimes  in,  114,  582  ;  super- 
stitions, 176,  585,  587;  deemster  of, 
567;  historical  notices  of,  563,  577; 
Tinwald  Court,  580 

Martindale  Castle,  3,  5;  festivities  at, 
34 ;  gilded  chamber,  42 ;  Lady  Peve- 
ril's  apartments,  58 ;  the  beacon,  258  ; 
the  name,  580 

Mason,  Captain,  rescue  of,  615 

Maulstatute,  the  magistrate,  381 

Mauthe  Doog,  legend  of,  214,  585 

Miners  of  the  Peak,  293 

Moultrassie  Hall,  3 ;  attack  on,  293 

Newcastle,  Duchess  of,  164,  596 
New  England,  tale  of,  153 
Newgate  prison,  387  ;  captain  of,  388 
North,  Roger,  Examen,  quoted,  601,  605, 

608,  609,  611;   Lives  of   the   Norths, 

quoted,  611 

Oates,  Dr.,  personal  description  of,  228, 
591  ;  gives  evidence  against  the  Peve- 
rils,  476,  610 

Ormond,  Duke  of,  462,  465,  518,  529  ;  in- 
tercedes for  Sir  Geoffrey,  465  ;  Blood's 
attempt  upon,  617 

Outram,  Lance,  41 ;  tells  of  Bridgenorth 
and  Deborah,  70 ;  learns  the  tidings, 
288  ;  calls  out  the  miners,  288  ;  tackles 
the  sentinel,  293 ;  takes  service  with 
Julian,  303  ;  serves  at  the  bar,  306 

Pages,  in  17th  century,  62,  580 
Peak  Castle.    See  Martindale  Castle 
Peck,  Desiderata  Curiosa,  quoted,  564, 

etc. 
Peel  Castle,  159,  161,  585  ;  prison  under, 

585,586 
Peveril,  Julian,  14 ;  refuses  to  leave 
Alice,  43 ;  engaged  as  page  to  the 
Countess  of  Derby,  62,  112  ;  talks  with 
Lord  Derby,  115,  163  ;  with  Deborah, 
119  ;  his  relations  with  Alice,  124,  130  ; 
interview  with  her,  135  ;  interrupted 
by  Bridgenorth,  139 ;  difficulty  with 
Fenella,  174  ;  meets  Alice  at  Goddard 
Crovan  Stone,  181 ;  taken  to  task  by 
Bridgenorth,  189;  interview  with 
Fenella,  198  ;  in  consultation  with  the 
countess,  201 ;  sent  by  her  to  London, 
206,  211 ;  his  letter  to  Alice,  207  ;  sails 
for  England,  217 ;  at  the  horse-deal- 
er's, 224  ;  recognizes  Ganlesse  at  the 
Cat  and  Fiddle,  231 ;  warned  by  Dame 
Whitecraft,  237;  tries  to  shake  off 
Ganlesse,  2i38 ;  at  the  wayside  hos- 
telry, 246  ;  attempts  to  steal  away, 
256 ;  at  the  Peveril  Arms,  261 ;  tries 
to  liberate  his  father,  265 ;  receives 
his  blessing,  272  ;  taken  to  Moultras- 
48ie  Hall,  272;  sees  Alice  there,  275; 


recognizes  Ganlesse  again,  278;  con- 
versation with  Bridgenorth,  288  ;  re- 
leased by  Alice,  296  ;  mediates  with 
the  miners,  297 ;  warns  Bridgenorth 
against  Ganlesse,  301  ;  sets  off  for 
London,  305 ;  overhears  Chifiinch 
and  Lord  Saville,  306;  recovers  the 

gapers  from  Chiffinch,  319  ;  accosted 
y  Fenella  in  the  Savoy,  347 ;  inter* 
view  with  the  King,  349 ;  at  Madam 
Chiffineh's,  354 ;  discovers  Alice  at 
Chiffinch's,  362 ;  hands  the  packet  to 
the  King,  368  ;  leads  away  Alice,  370 , 
embarrassed  by  Fenella,  375  ;  combat 
with  Jenkins,  378  ;  misses  Alice,  380  ; 
before  Maulstatute  382 ;  taken  to 
Newgate,  387 ;  put  into  Sir  Geoffrey 
Hudson's  cell,  392  ;  hears  the  unseen 
voice,  405,  409,  413  ;  refuses  to  give  up 
Alice,  414  ;  the  note  from  the  unseen 
voice,  418  ;  taken  to  the  Tower,  422  ; 
recognized  by  his  mother,  425  ;  before 
the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  471  ;  acquitted, 
483 ;  set  upon  by  the  mob,  485 ;  re- 
treats into  Bridgenorth 's  house,  489  , 
reunion  with  Lady  Peveril,  549 ;  at- 
tends at  Court,  551 ;  refuses  to  betray 
Bridgenorth,  553  ;  marriage,  561 

Peveril,  Lady,  2  ;  befriends  Mrs.  Bridge- 
north,  4 ;  takes  charge  of  Alice,  8 ; 
embarrassed  for  provisions,  18  ;  meets 
Bridgenorth's  objections,  26  ;  receives 
the  Puritans,  34;  and  the  Cavaliers, 
37  ;  welcomes  the  Countess  of  Derby, 
45 ;  arrests  Bridgenorth,  57 ;  is  told 
of  Deborah's  disappearance,  78 ; 
Bridgenorth's  letter  to  her,  80 ;  sur- 
prised by  him  in  the  avenue,  104  ;  sees 
Julian  first  at  Martindale  Castle,  265  ; 
pleads  for  him,  269  ;  drops  her  hand- 
kerchief for  him,  425 ;  reunion  with 
Sir  Geoffrey  and  Julian,  549 

Peveril,  Sir  Geoffrey,  4  ;  daily  visits  to 
Bridgenorth,  9  ;  announces  the  King's 
restoration,  10  ;  returns  to  Martindale 
Castle,  60;  learns  of  Bridgenorth's 
behavior,  64  ;  escorts  the  Countess  of 
Derby,  69  ;  unhorses  Bridgenorth,  74  ; 
his  plan  for  conciliating  him,  85 ; 
sends  Sir  Jasper  Cranbourne  to  him, 
93  ;  his  letter  to  Bridgenorth,  96  ;  dis- 
like to  him,  98,  133  ;  a  prisoner,  264 ; 
blesses  Julian,  272  ;  before  the  Lord 
Chief  Justice,  471  ;  acquitted.  483  ;  set 
upon  by  the  mob,  485  ;  retreats  into 
Bridgenorth's  house,  489 ;  reunion 
with  Lady  Peveril,  549  ;  at  court,  551 

Peveril,  William,  1 

Peveril  of  the  Peak,  the  novel,  v 

Popish  Plot,  168,  308,  470  ;  witnesses  of, 
228,  591  ;  Narratives  of,  243,  592 ;  first 
check  to,  308,  605  ;  Hume  on,  605 

Portsmouth,  Duchess  of,  309,  312,  606 

Presbyterian  clergy,  ejection  of,  86,  581 

Protestant  flail,  384,  608 

Puritans,  at  Martindale  Castle,  29 ; 
grave  conviviality  of,  38  ;  persecu- 
tions of,  112,  581 ;  at  Moultrassie  Hall, 
276,  578 

Raine,  Dame,  of  the  Peveril  Arms,  Ml 
Raine,  Roger,  33,  68 


620 


WA  VEBLET  NO  VEL S 


Beealia,  Blood's  attempt  to  steal,  618 

Beid,  mountebank,  591 

Rochester,  Earl  of,  his  epitaph  on 
Charles  II.,  309,  606 ;  revenge  on  Dry- 
den,  606 

Rowley.    See  Charles  II. 

Roxburgh  Club,  xvi 

St.  James's  Park,  London,  848 
Saville,  Lord,  and  ChLUnch,  308 
Savoy,  London,  347 
Scott,  Thomas,  on  the  Isle  of  Man,  vi 
Scroggs,  Lord  Chief  Justice,  473,  592 
Sellok,  Cecily,  289,  291 
Settle,  Elkanah,  poet,  326,  606 
Shadwell,  Volunteers,  quoted,  578 
Shaftesbury,  Earl  of,  309,  311 
Sheriffs  of  London,  624,  611 
Silk  armor,  383,  608 
Smith,  Will.    fi'eeChifflnch 
Sodor  Castle.    See  Peel  Castle 
Solsgrace,  Nehemiah,  9,  90  ;  strikes  up 
the  hymn.  31  ;  ejected,  87 ;  discoun- 
tenances  the  duel,  93 
Spring  and  winter,  mock  contest  be- 
tween, 114,  582  ^ 
Stock-jobbing,  tinic  of  tale,  445,  609 
Straw,  tenure  of  the,  566 
Superstitions,  Manx,  176,  585,  587 
Swinton,  Mr?  ?<Iargaret,  her  story,  579 

li'ENURE  of  '^he  straw.  56e 
inwald  <•  ^urt,  5^ 


Topham,  at  the  horse-dealer's  t2B  •.  afi 

Martindale  Castle,  267 
Tower  of  London,  424  ;  visit  of  Charles 
n.  to,  462 

Vknner's  Plot,  111,  496,  611 

Waldron,    Description   of  the  IsU   cuf 

Man,  quoted,  582,  585,  587-591 
Warwick,  Earl  of,  in  Peel  Castle,  162 
Weiver,  the  preacher,  495,  542 
Whalley,  the  regicide,  tale  of,  153,  584 
Whitaker,    Dick,    the   steward,  20;  ar 
rests  Bridgenorth,  57  ;  listens  to  Out- 
ram's  story,  70- 
White,  Old  Century,  28.  578 
Whitecraft,  Dame,  280 ;  warns  JuliM^ 
,     237 
Whitccraft,  John,  235 
Whitelocke,  Lord  Keeper,  84 
Wiggan  Lane,  battle  of,  8,  88 
Wild  blood,  Dick,  of  the  Dale,  33 
William,   the    Conqueror,  ancestor  of 

Peveril,  1 
Win-the-Fight,  attorney,  87,  100 
Wren,  hunting  the,  114,  588 

*'  Ye,  thought  in  the  world,"  a**" 
York  House,  London,  time  oi   **  ^ale 

427 

Zarab.    See  Fenella 


INTRODUCTION  TO  QUENTIN  DURWARD. 


The  scene  of  this  romance  is  laid  in  the  15th  century, 
when  the  feudal  system,  which  had  been  the  sinews  and 
nerves  of  national  defense,  and  the  spirit  of  chivalry,  by 
which,  as  by  a  vivifying  soul,  that  system  was  animated, 
began  to  be  innovated  upon  and  abandoned  by  those  grosser 
characters  who  centered  their  sum  of  happiness  in  procuring 
the  personal  objects  on  which  they  had  fixed  their  own 
exclusive  attachment.  The  same  egotism  had  indeed  dis- 
played itself  even  in  more  primitive  ages  ;  but  it  was  now 
for  the  first  time  openly  avowed  as  a  professed  principle  of 
action.  The  spirit  of  chivalry  liad  in  it  this  point  of  excel- 
lence, that  however  overstrained  and  fantastic  many  of  its 
doctrines  may  appear  to  us,  they  were  all  founded  on  gener- 
osity and  self-denial,  of  which  if  the  earth  were  deprived,  it 
would  be  difficult  to  conceive  the  existence  of  virtue  among 
the  human  race. 

Among  those  who  were  the  first  to  ridicule  and  abandon 
the  self-denying  principles  in  which  the  young  knight  was 
instructed,  and  to  which  he  was  so  carefully  trained  up,  Louis 
the  Eleventh  of  France  was  the  chief.  That  sovereign  was 
of  a  character  so  purely  selfish — so  guiltless  of  entertaining 
any  purpose  unconnected  with  his  ambition,  covetousness, 
and  desire  of  selfish  enjoyment,  that  he  almost  seems  an  in- 
carnation of  the  devil  himself,  permitted  to  do  his  utmost  to 
corrupt  our  ideas  of  honor  in  its  very  source.  Nor  is  it  to 
be  forgotten  that  Louis  possessed  to  a  great  extent  that 
caustic  wit  which  can  turn  into  ridicule  all  that  a  man  does 
for  any  other  person^s  advantage  but  his  own,  and  was,  there- 
fore, peculiarly  qualified  to  play  the  part  of  a  cold-hearted 
and  sneering  fiend. 

In  this  point  of  view,  Goethe's  conception  of  the  character 
and  reasoning  of  Mephistopheles,  the  tempting  spirit  in  the 
singular  play  of  Faust,  appears  to  me  more  happy  than  that 
which  has  been  formed  by  Byron,  and  even  than  the  Satan  of 
Milton.  These  last  great  authors  have  given  to  the  Evil 
Principle  something  which  elevates  and  dignifies  his  wicked- 


?i  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

ness — a  sustained  and  unconquerable  resistance  against 
Omnipotence  itself,  a  lofty  scorn  of  suffering  compared  with 
submission,  and  all  those  points  of  attraction  in  the  Author 
of  Evil  which  have  induced  Burns  and  others  to  consider 
him  as  the  hero  of  the  Paradise  Lost,  The  great  German 
poet  has,  on  the  contrary,  rendered  his  seducing  spirit  a  being 
who,  otherwise  totally  unimpassioned,  seems  only  to  have 
existed  for  the  purpose  of  increasing,  by  his  persuasions  and 
temptations,  the  mass  of  moral  evil,  and  who  calls  forth  by 
his  seductions  those  slumbering  passions  which  otherwise 
might  have  allowed  the  human  being  who  was  the  object  of 
the  evil  spirit's  operations  to  pass  the  tenor  of  his  life  in 
tranquility.  For  this  purpose  Mephistopheles  is,  like  Louis 
XI.,  endowed  with  an  acute  and  depreciating  spirit  of  caus- 
tic wit,  which  is  employed  incessantly  in  undervaluing  and 
vilifying  all  actions  the  consequences  of  which  do  not  lead 
certainly  and  directly  to  self-gratification. 

Even  an  author  of  works  of  mere  amusement  may  be  per- 
mitted to  be  serious  for  a  moment,  in  order  to  reprobate  all 
policy,  whether  of  a  public  or  private  character,  which  rests 
its  basis  upon  the  principles  of  Machiavel  or  the  practise  of 
Louis  XL 

The  cruelties,  the  perjuries,  the  suspicions,  of  this  prince 
were  rendered  more  detestable,  rather  than  amended,  by  the 
gross  and  debasing  superstition  which  he  constantly  practised. 
The  devotion  to  the  Heavenly  saints,  of  which  he  made  such 
a  parade,  was  upon  the  miserable  principle  of  some  petty 
deputy  in  office,  who  endeavors  to  hide  or  atone  for  the 
malversations  of  which  he  is  conscious,  by  liberal  gifts  to 
those  whose  duty  it  is  to  observe  his  conduct,  and  endeavors 
to  support  a  system  of  fraud  by  an  attempt  to  corrupt  the 
incorruptible.  In  no  other  light  can  we  regard  his  creating 
the  Virgin  Mary  a  countess  and  colonel  of  his  guards,  or  the 
cunning  that  admitted  to  one  or  two  peculiar  forms  of  oath 
the  force  of  a  binding  obligation  which  he  denied  to  all 
others,  strictly  preserving  the  secret,  which  mode  of  swearing 
he  really  accounted  obligatory,  as  one  of  the  most  valuable  of 
state  mysteries. 

To  a  total  want  of  scruple,  or,  it  would  appear,  of  any 
sense  whatever  of  moral  obligation,  Louis  XL  added  great 
natural  firmness  and  sagacity  of  character,  with  a  system  of 
policy  so  highly  refined,  considering  the  times  he  lived  in, 
that  he  sometimes  overreached  himself  by  giving  way 
to  its  dictates. 

Probably  there  is  no  portrait  so  dark  as  to  be  without  its 


INTRODUCTION  TO  QUENTIN  DURWABD  yn 

softer  shades.  He  understood  the  interests  of  France,  and 
faithfully  pursued  them  so  long  es  he  could  identify  them 
with  his  own.  He  carried  the  country  safe  through  the 
dangerous  crisis  of  war  termed  for  '*  the  public  good'^;  in 
thus  disuniting  and  dispersing  this  grand  and  dangerous 
alliance  of  the  great  crown  vassals  of  France  against  the 
sovereign,  a  king  of  a  less  cautious  and  temporizing  character, 
and  of  a  more  bold  and  less  crafty  disposition,  than  Louis  XI. 
would  in  all  probability,  have  failed.  Louis  had  also  some 
personal  accomplishments  not  inconsistent  with  his  public 
character.  He  was  cheerful  and  witty  in  society  ;  caressed 
his  victim  like  the  cat,  which  can  fawn  when  about  to  deal 
the  most  bitter  wound  ;  and  none  was  better  able  to  sustain 
and  extol  the  superiority  of  the  coarse  and  selfish  reasons  by 
which  he  endeavored  to  supply  those  nobler  motives  for 
exertion  which  his  predecessors  had  derived  from  the  high 
spirit  of  chivalry. 

In  fact  that  system  was  now  becoming  ancient,  and  had, 
even  while  in  its  perfection,  something  so  overstrained  and 
fantastic  in  its  principles,  as  rendered  it  peculiarly  the  object 
of  ridicule,  whenever,  like  other  old  fashions,  it  began  to 
fall  out  of  repute,  and  the  weapons  of  raillery  could  be  em- 
ployed against  it,  without  exciting  the  disgust  and  horror 
with  which  they  would  have  been  rejected  at  an  early  period 
as  a  species  of  blasphemy.  In  the  14th  century  a  tribe  of 
scoffers  had  arisen  who  pretended  to  supply  what  was  na- 
turally useful  in  chivalry  by  other  resources,  and  threw  ridi- 
cule upon  the  extravagant  and  exclusive  principles  of  honor 
and  virtue  which  were  openly  treated  as  absurd,  because,  in 
fact,  they  were  cast  in  a  mould  of  perfection  too  lofty  for 
the  practice  of  fallible  beings.  If  an  ingenous  and  high- 
spirited  youth  proposed  to  frame  himself  on  his  father's 
principles  of  honor,  he  was  vulgarly  derided  as  if  he  had 
brought  to  the  field  the  good  old  knight's  Durindarte  or  two- 
handed  sword,  ridiculous  from  its  antique  make  and  fashion, 
although  its  blade  might  be  the  Ebro's  temper,  and  its  or- 
naments of  pure  gold. 

In  like  manner,  the  principles  of  chivalry  were  cast  aside, 
and  their  aid  supplied  by  baser  stimulants.  Instead  of  the 
high  spirit  which  pressed  every  man  forward  in  the  defence 
of  his  country,  Louis  XL  substituted  the  exertions  of  the 
ever  ready  mercenary  soldier,  and  persuaded  his  subjects, 
among  whom  the  mercantile  class  began  to  make  a  figure, 
that  it  was  better  to  leave  to  mercenaries  the  risks  and  labors 
of  war,  and  to  supply  the  crown  with  the  means  of  paying 


via  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

them,  than  to  peril  themselves  in  defense  of  their  own  sub- 
stance. The  merchants  were  easily  persuaded  by  tliis  reason- 
ing. The  hour  did  not  arrive,  in  the  days  of  Louis  XI., 
when  the  landed  gentry  and  nobles  could  be  in  like  manner 
excluded  from  the  ranks  of  war  ;  but  the  wily  monarch 
commenced  that  system,  which,  acted  upon  by  his  successors, 
at  length  threw  the  whole  military  defence  of  the  state  into 
the  hands  of  the  crown. 

He  was  equally  forward  in  altering  the  principles  which 
were  wont  to  regulate  the  intercourse  of  the  sexes.  The 
doctrines  of  chivalry  had  established  in  theory,  at  least,  a 
system  in  which  Beauty  was  the  governing  and  remunerating 
divinity.  Valor  her  slave,  who  caught  his  courage  from  her 
eye,  and  gave  his  life  for  her  slightest  service.  It  is  true, 
the  system  here,  as  in  other  branches,  was  stretched  to 
fantastic  extravagance,  and  cases  of  scandal  not  unfrequently 
arose.  Still  they  were  generally  such  as  those  mentioned  by 
Burke,  where  frailty  was  deprived  of  half  its  guilt  by  being 
purified  from  all  its  grossness.  In  Louis  XL's  practice,  it 
was  far  otherwise.  He  was  a  low  voluptuary,  seeking 
pleasure  without  sentiment,  and  despising  the  sex  from 
whom  he  desired  to  obtain  it ;  his  mistresses  were  of  inferior 
rank,  as  little  to  be  compared  with  the  elevated  though 
faulty  character  of  Agnes  Sorel,  as  Louis  was  to  his  heroic 
father,  who  freed  France  from  the  threatened  yoke  of  En- 
gland. In  like  nianner,  by  selecting  his  favorites  and 
ministers  from  among  the  dregs  of  the  people,  Louis  showed 
the  slight  regard  which  he  paid  to  eminent  station  and  high 
birth  ;  and  although  this  might  be  not  only  excusable  but 
meritorious,  where  the  monarch's  fiat  promoted  obscure  tal- 
ent, or  called  forth  modest  worth,  it  was  very  different  when 
the  King  made  his  favorite  associates  of  such  men  as  Tristan 
I'Hermite,  the  chief  of  his  marshalseaor  police  ;  and  it  was 
evident  that  such  a  prince  could  no  longer  be,  as  his  descend- 
ant Francis  elegantly  designed  himself ,  "the  first  gentleman 
in  his  dominions." 

Nor  were  Louis's  sayings  and  actions,  in  private  or  public, 
of  a  kind  which  could  redeem  such  gross  offences  against  the 
character  of  a  man  of  honor.  His  word,  generally  account- 
ed the  most  sacred  test  of  a  man's  character,  and  the  least 
impeachment  of  which  is  a  capital  offence  by  the  code  of 
honor,  was  forfeited  without  scruple  on  the  slightest  occasion, 
and  often  accompanied  by  the  perpetration  of  the  most  enor- 
mous crimes.  If  he  broke  his  own  personal  and  plighted  faith, 
he  did  not  treat  that  of  the  public  with  more  ceremony.     His 


INTRODUCTION  TO  QUENTIN  DUB  WARD  ix 

sending  an  inferior  person  disguised  as  a  herald  to  Edward  IV. 
was  in  those  days,  when  heralds  were  esteemed  the  sacred 
depositaries  of  public  and  national  faith,,  a  daring  imposition, 
of  which  few  save  this  unscrupulous  prince  would  have  been 
guilty.  * 

In  short,  the  manners,  sentiments,  and  actions  of  Louis 
XI.  were  such  as  were  inconsistent  with  the  principles  of 
chivalry,  and  his  caustic  wit  was  sufficiently  disposed  to 
ridicule  a  system  adopted  on  what  he  considered  as  the  most 
absurd  of  all  bases,  since  it  was  founded  on  the  principle  of 
devoting  toil,  talents,  and  time  to  the  accomplishment  of  ob- 
jects from  which  no  personal  advantage  could,  in  the  nature 
of  things,  be  obtained. 

It  is  more  than  probable  that,  in  thus  renouncing  almost 
openly  the  ties  of  religion,  honor,  and  morality,  by  which 
mankind  at  large  feel  themselves  influenced,  Louis  sought 
to  obtain  great  advantages  in  his  negotiations  with  parties 
who  might  esteem  themselves  bound,  while  he  himself  enjoyed 
liberty.  He  started  from  the  goal,  he  might  suppose,  like 
the  racer  who  has  got  rid  of  the  weights  with  which  his 
competitors  are  still  encumbered,  and  expects  to  succeed  of 
course.  But  Providence  seems  always  to  unite  the  existence 
of  peculiar  danger  with  some  circumstance  which  may  put 
those  exposed  to  the  peril  upon  their  guard.  The  constant 
suspicion  attached  to  any  public  person  who  becomes  badly 
eminent  for  breach  of  faith  is  to  him  what  the  rattle  is  to 
the  poisonous  serpent ;  and  men  come  at  last  to  calculate, 
not  so  much  on  what  their  antagonist  says,  as  upon  that 
which  he  is  likely  to  do  ;  a  degree  of  mistrust  which  tends 
to  counteract  the  intrigues  of  such  a  faithless  character 
more  than  his  freedom  from  the  scruples  of  conscientious 
men  can  afford  him  advantage.  The  example  of  Louis  XL 
raised  disgust  and  suspicion  rather  than  a  desire  of  imitation 
among  other  nations  in  Europe,  and  the  circumstance  of  his 
outwitting  more  than  one  of  his  contemporaries  operated  to 
put  others  on  their  guard.  Even  the  system  of  chivalry, 
though  much  less  generally  extended  than  heretofore,  sur- 
vived this  profligate  monarch's  reign,  who  did  so  much  to 
sully  its  luster,  and  long  after  the  death  of  Louis  XL  it  in- 
spired the  Knight  without  Fear  and  Eeproach  and  the  gal- 
lant Francis  I. 

Indeed,  although  the  reign  of  Louis  had  been  as  success- 
ful in  a  political  point  of  view  as  he  himself  could  have  de- 
sired, the  spectacle  of  his  death-bed  might  of  itself  be  a 

*  See  Note  46,  p.  448. 


X  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

warning-piece  against  the  seduction  of  his  example.  Jealous 
of  every  one,  but  chiefly  of  his  own  son,  he  immured  himself 
in  his  Castle  of  Plessis,  entrusting  his  person  exclusively  to 
the  doubtful  faith  of  his  Scottish  mercenaries.  He  never 
stirred  from  his  chamber,  he  admitted  no  one  into  it ;  and 
wearied  Heaven  and  every  saint  with  prayers,  not  for  the 
forgiveness  of  his  sins,  but  for  the  prolongation  of  his  life. 
With  a  poverty  of  spirit  totally  inconsistent  with  his  shrewd 
worldly  sagacity,  he  importuned  his  physicians  until  they  in- 
sulted as  well  as  plundered  him.  In  his  extreme  desire  of 
life,  he  sent  to  Italy  for  supposed  relics,  and  the  yet  more 
extraordinary  importation  of  an  ignorant  crack-brained  peas- 
ant, who,  from  lazinesc  probably,  had  shut  himself  up  in  a 
cave,  and  renounced  flesh,  fish,  eggs,  or  the  produce  of  the 
dairy.  This  man,  who  did  not  possess  the  slightest  tincture 
of  letters,  Louis  reverenced  as  if  he  had  been  the  Pope  him- 
self, and  to  gain  his  good-will  founded  two  cloisters. 

It  was  not  the  least  singular  circumstance  of  this  course 
of  superstition  that  bodily  health  and  terrestrial  felicity 
seemed  to  be  his  only  objects.  Making  any  mention  of  his 
sins  when  talking  on  the  state  of  his  health  was  strictly  pro- 
hibited ;  and  when  at  his  command  a  priest  recited  a  prayer 
to  St.  Eutropi'Us,  in  which  he  recommended  the  King's  Wel- 
fare both  in  body  and  soul,  Louis  caused  the  two  last  words 
to  be  omitted,  saying  it  was  not  prudent  to  importune  the 
blessed  saint  by  too  many  requests  at  once.  Perhaps  he 
thought  by  being  silent  on  his  crimes  he  might  suffer  them 
to  pass  out  of  the  recollection  of  the  celestial  patrons,  whose 
aid  he  invoked  for  his  body. 

So  great  were  the  well-merited  tortures  of  this  tyrant's 
death-bed,  that  Philip  des  Comines  enters  into  a  regular  com- 
parison between  them  and  the  numerous  cruelties  inflicted 
on  others  by  his  order  ;  and,  considering  both,  comes  to  ex- 
press an  opinion,  that  the  worldly  pangs  and  agony  suffered 
by  Louis  were  such  as  might  compensate  the  crimes  he  had 
committed  and  that,  after  a  reasonable  quarantine  in  purga- 
tory, he  might  in  mercy  be  found  duly  qualified  for  the  su- 
perior regions. 

Fenelon  also  has  left  his  testimony  against  this  prince, 
whose  mode  of  living  and  governing  he  has  described  in  the 
following  remarkable  passage  : — 

Pygmalion,  tourmente  par  unesoif  insatiable  des  richesses,  se 
rend  de  plus  en  plus  miserable  et  odieux  a  ses  sujets.  C'est  un 
crime  a  Tyr  que  d'avoir  de  grands  biens  ;  I'avarice  le  rend  defiant, 
soupgonneux,  cruel ;  il  persecute  les  riches,  et  il  craiut  les  pauvres. 


XNTUOBUCnON  To  QtlENTlN  DUBWARt)  xi 

C'est  un  crime  encore  plus  grand  a  Tyr  d'avoir  de  la  vertu ;  car 
Pygmalion  suppose  que  le  bons  ne  peuvent  souffrir  ses  injustices 
et  ses  infamies  :  la  vertu  le  condamne  ;  il  s'aigrit  el  s'irrite  contra 
elle.  Tout  I'agite  inquete,  le  ronge ;  il  a  peur  de  son  ombre ;  il 
ne  dort  ni  nuit  ni  jour  ;  les  Dieux,  pour  le  confondre,  I'accablent 
de  tresors  dont  il  n'ose  jouir.  De  qu'il  cherche  pour  etre  heureux 
est  precisement  ce  qui  I'empeche  de  I'etre.  II  regrette  tout  ce  qu'il 
donne  ;  il  craint  toujours  de  perdre  ;  il  se  tourmente  pour  gagner. 

On  ne  le  voit  presque  jamais  ;  il  est  seul,  triste,  abattu,  au  fond 
de  son  palais ;  ses  amis  memes  n'osent  Faborder,  de  peur,  de  lui 
devenir  suspects.  Une  garde  terrible  tient  toujours  des  epees  nues 
et  des  piques  levees  autour  de  sa  maison.  Trent  chambres  qui 
communiquent  les  unes  aux  autres,  et  dont  chacune  a  une  porte  de 
fer  avec  six  gros  verroux,  sont  le  lieu  ou  il  se  renferme  ;  on  ne  sait 
jamais  dans  laquelle  de  ces  chambres  il  couche  ;  et  on  assure  qu'il 
ne  couche  jamais  deux  nuits  de  suite  dans  la  meme,  de  peur  d'y 
etre  egorge.  II  ne  connoit  ni  les  doux  plaisirs,  ni  I'amitie  encore 
plus  douce.  Si  on  lui  parle  de  chercher  la  joie,  il  sent  qu  elle  fuit 
loin  de  lui,  et  qu'elle  refuse  d'entrer  dans  son  coeur,  Ses  yeux 
creux  sont  pleins  d'un  feu  &pre  et  farouche  ;  ils  sont  sans  cesse 
errans  de  tons  cotes  ;  il  prete  I'oreille  au  moindre  bruit,  et  se  sent 
tout  emu  ;  il  est  pale,  defait,  et  les  noirs  soucis  sont  peints  sur  son 
visage  toujours  ride.  II  se  tait,  il  soupire,  il  tire  de  son  coeur  de 
profonds  gemissemens,  il  ne  pent  cacher  les  remords  qui  dechirent 
ses  entrailles.  Les  mets  les  plus  exquis  le  degoHtent.  Ses  en  fans, 
loin  d'etre  son  esperance,  sont  le  sujet  de  sa  terreur :  il  en  a  fait 
ses  plus  dangereux  ennemis.  II  n'a  eu  touts  sa  vie  aucun  moment 
d'assure  :  il  ne  se  conserve  qu'a  force  de  repandre  le  sang  de  tous 
ceux  qu'il  craint.  Insense,  qui  ne  voit  pas  que  sa  cruaute,  a 
laquelle  il  se  confie,  le  fera  perir  !  Quelqu'un  de  ses  domestiques, 
aussi  defiant  que  lui,  se  hatera  de  delivrer  le  monde  de  ce  monstre. 

The  instructive  but  appalling  scene  of  this  tyrant's  suffer* 
ings  was  at  length  closed  by  death,  30th  August,  1483. 

The  selection  of  this  remarkable  person  as  the  principle 
character  in  the  romance — for  it  will  be  easily  comprehended 
that  the  little  love  intrigue  of  Quentin  is  only  employed  as 
the  means  of  bringing  out  the  story — afforded  considerable 
facilities  to  the  Author.  The  whole  of  Europe  was,  during 
the  15th  century,  convulsed  with  dissensions  from  such 
various  causes,  that  it  would  have  required  almost  a  disserta- 
tion to  have  brought  the  English  reader  with  a  mind  perfectly 
alive  and  prepared  to  admit  the  possibility  of  the  strange 
scenes  to  which  he  was  introduced. 

In  Louis  XL's  time,  extraordinary  commotions  existed 
throughout  all  Europe.  England's  civil  wars  were  ended 
rather  in  appearance  than  reality  by  the  short-lived  ascen- 
dency of  the  house  of  York.  Switzerland  was  asserting  that 
freedom  which  was  afterwards  so  bravely  defended.  In  the 
Empire  and  in  France  the  great  vassals  of  the  crown  were 
endeavoring  to  emancipate  themselves  from  its  control,  while 


xii  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

Charles  of  Burgundy  by  main  force,  and  Louis  more  art- 
fully by  indirect  means,  labored  to  subject  them  to  subser- 
vience to  their  respective  sovereignties.  Louis,  while  with 
one  hand  he  circumvented  and  subdued  his  own  rebellious 
vassals,  labored  secretly  with  the  other  to  aid  and  encourage 
the  large  trading  towns  of  Flanders  to  rebel  against  the  Duke 
of  Burgundy,  to  which  their  wealth  and  irritability  naturally 
disposed  them.  In  the  more  woodland  districts  of  Flanders, 
the  Duke  of  Gueldres,  and  William  de  la  Marck,  called  from 
his  ferocity  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes,  were  throwing  ofl 
the  habits  of  knights  and  gentlemen,  to  practise  the  violences 
and  brutalities  of  common  bandits. 

A  hundred  secret  combinations  existed  in  the  different 
provinces  of  France  and  Flanders  ;  numerous  private  emis- 
saries of  the  restless  Louis — Bohemians,  pilgrims,  beggars, 
or  agents  disguised  as  such — were  everywhere  spreading  the 
discontent  which  it  was  his  policy  to  maintain  in  the  domin- 
ions of  Burgundy. 

Amidst  so  great  an  abundance  of  materials,  it  was 
difficult  to  select  such  as  should  be  most  intelligible  and 
interesting  to  the  reader ;  and  the  Author  had  to  regret 
that,  though  he  made  liberal  use  of  the  power  of  departing 
from  the  reality  of  history,  he  felt  by  no  means  confident  of 
having  brought  his  story  into  a  pleasing,  compact,  and 
sufficiently  intelligible  form.  The  mainspring  of  the  plot 
is  that  which  all  who  know  the  least  of  the  feudal  system  can 
easily  understand,  though  the  facts  are  absolutely  fictitious. 

The  right  of  a  feudal  superior  was  in  nothing  more  univer- 
sally acknowledged  than  in  his  power  to  interfere  in  the 
marriage  of  a  female  vassal.  This  may  appear  to  exist  as  a 
contradiction  both  of  the  civil  and  canon  law,  which  declare 
that  marriage  shall  be  free,  while  the  feudal  or  muncipal  ju- 
risprudence, in  case  of  a  fief  passing  to  a  female,  acknowledges 
an  interest  in  the  superior  of  the  fief  to  dictate  the  choice  of 
her  companion  in  marriage.  This  is  accounted  for  on  the 
principle  that  the  superior  was,  by  his  bounty,  the  original 
grantor  of  the  fief,  and  is  still  interested  that  the  marriage  of 
the  vassal  shall  place  no  one  there  who  may  be  inimical  to 
his  liege  lord.  On  the  other  hand,  it  might  be  reasonably 
pleaded  that  this  right  of  dictating  to  the  vassal,  to  a  certain 
extent,  in  the  choice  of  a  husband,  is  only  competent  to  the 
superior  from  whom  the  fief  is  originally  derived.  There  is 
therefore  no  violent  improbability  in  the  vassal  of  Burgundy 
flying  to  the  protection  of  the  Kmg  of  France,  to  whom  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy  himself  was  vassal ;  nor  is  it  a  great 


INTRODUCTION  TO  QUENTIN  DUBWABD  xiif 

stretch  of  probability  to  affirm,  that  Louis,  unscrupulous  as 
he  was,  should  have  formed  the  design  of  betraying  the 
fugitive  into  some  alliance  which  might  prove  inconvenient, 
if  not  dangerous,  to  his  formidable  kinsman  and  vassal  of 
Burgundy. 

I  may  add,  that  the  romance  of  Quentin  Durward,  which 
acquired  a  popularity  at  home  more  extensive  than  some  of 
its  predecessors,  found  also  unusual  success  on  the  con- 
tinent,* where  the  historical  allusions  awakened  more 
familar  ideas. 

Abbotspord  1st  December  1831. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  FIEST  EDITION  f 

And  one  who  hath  had  losses — go  to  ! 

Much  Ado  About  Nothing. 

When"  honest  Dogberry  sums  up  and  recites  all  the  claims 
which  he  had  to  respectability,  and  which,  as  he  opined, 
ought  to  have  exempted  him  from  the  injurious  appellation 
conferred  on  him  by  Master  Gentleman  Oonrade,  it  is 
remarkable  that  he  lays  not  more  emphasis  even  upon  his 
double  gown  (a  matter  of  some  importance  in  a  certain  ci- 
devant  capital  which  I  wot  of),  or  upon  his  being  ^'  a  pretty 
piece  of  flesh  as  any  in  Messina,^'  or  even  upon  the  conclu- 
sive argument  of  his  being  ''  a  rich  fellow  enough,'^  than 
upon  his  being  one  *'  that  hath  had  losses." 

Indeed,  I  have  always  observed  your  children  of  prosperity, 
whether  by  way  of  hiding  their  full  glow  of  splendor  from 
those  whom  fortune  has  treated  more  harshly,  or  whether 
that  to  have  risen  in  spite  of  calamity  is  as  honorable  to 
their  fortune  as  it  is  to  a  fortress  to  have  undergone  a  siege, 
— however  this  be,  I  have  observed  that  such  persons  never 
fail  to  entertain  you  with  an  account  of  the  damage  they 
sustain  by  the  hardness  of  the  times.  You  seldom  dine  at  a 
well-supplied  table,  but  the  intervals  between  the  cham- 
pagne, the  burgundy,  and  the  hock  are  filled,  if  your 
entertainer  be  a  moneyed  man,  with  the  fall  of  interest  and 
the  difficulty  of  finding  investments  for  cash,  which  is 
therefore  lying  idle  on  his  hands  ;  or,  if  he  be  a  landed 

*  [See  Lockhart's  Life  of  Scott,  vol.  vii.  pp.  161-167.] 
I"  It  ifl  scarcely  neoeesary  to  say,  that  all  that  follows  is  imaginary, 


XIV  WA  VER LEY  NO VELS 

proprietor,  with  a  woeful  detail  of  ar  e^rs  and  diminished 
rents.  This  hath  its  effects.  The  gucsts  sigh  and  shake 
their  heads  in  cadence  with  their  landlord,  look  on  the 
sideboard  loaded  with  plate,  sip  once  more  the  rich  wines 
which  flow  around  them  in  quick  circulation,  and  think  of 
the  genuine  benevolence,  which,  thus  stinted  of  its  means, 
still  lavishes  all  that  it  yet  possesses  on  hospitality,  an  1 
what  is  yet  more  flattering,  on  the  wealth,  which,  undim- 
inished by  these  losses,  still  continues,  like  the  inexhaustible 
hoard  of  the  generous  Aboulcasem,  to  sustain,  without  im- 
poverishment, such  copious  drains. 

This  querulous  humor,  however,  hath  its  limits,  like  to 
the  conning  of  grievances,  which  all  valetudinarians  know 
is  a  most  fascinating  pastime,  so  long  as  there  is  nothing  to 
complain  of  but  chronic  complaints.  But  I  never  heard  a 
man  whose  credit  was  actually  verging  to  decay  talk  of  the 
diminution  of  his  funds  ;  and  my  kind  and  intelligent 
physician  assures  me,  that  it  is  a  rare  thing  with  those 
afflicted  with  a  good  rousing  fever,  or  any  such  active  dis- 
order, which 

With  mortal  crisis  doth  pretend 
His  life  to  appropinque  an  end, 

to  make  their  agonies  the  subject  of  amusing  conversation. 

Having  deeply  considered  all  these  things,  I  am  no  longer 
able  to  disguise  from  my  readers  that  I  am  neither  so  un- 
popular nor  so  low  in  fortune  as  not  to  have  my  share  in  the 
distresses  which  at  present  afflict  the  moneyed  and  landed  in- 
terest of  these  realms.  Your  authors  who  live  upon  a 
mutton  chop  may  rejoice  that  it  has  fallen  to  threepence 
per  pound,  and,  if  they  have  children,  gratulate  themselves 
that  the  peck-loaf  may  be  had  for  sixpence ;  but  we  who 
belong  to  the  tribe  which  is  ruined  by  peace  and  plenty — 
we  who  have  lands  and  beeves,  and  sell  what  these  poor 
gleaners  must  buy — we  are  driven  to  despair  by  the  very 
events  which  would  make  all  Grub  Street  illuminate  its 
attics,  if  Grub  Street  could  spare  candle-ends  for  the 
purpose.  I  therefore  put  in  my  proud  claim  to  share  in  the 
distresses  which  only  affect  the  wealthy  ;  and  write  myself 
down,  with  Dogberry,  ''  a  rich  fellow  enough,''  but  still  one 
"  who  hath  had  losses." 

With  the  same  generous  spirit  of  emulation,  I  have  had 
lately  recourse  to  the  universal  remedy  for  the  brief  im- 
peQunipsity  of  which  I  complain — a  brief  residence  in  a 


JNTBODVCTION  TO  QUEHTIJSf  DVBWABD  xv 

southern  climate,  by  which  I  have  not  only  saved  many  cart- 
loads of  coals,  but  have  also  had  the  pleasure  to  excite 
general  sympathy  for  my  decayed  circumstances  among 
those  who,  if  my  revenue  had  continued  to  be  spent  among 
them,  would  have  cared  little  if  I  had  been  hanged.  Thus, 
while  I  drink  my  vin  ordinaire,  my  brewer  finds  the  sale  of 
his  small-beer  diminished — while  I  discuss  my  flask  of  cinq 
francs,  my  modicum  of  port  hangs  on  my  wine-merchant's 
hands — while  my  cotelette  b,  la  Maintenon  is  smoking  on  my 
plate,  the  mighty  sirloin  hangs  on  its  peg  in  the  shop  of  my 
blue-aproned  friend  in  the  village.  Whatever,  in  short,  I 
spend  here  is  missed  at  home  ;  and  the  few  sous  gained  by 
the  gaVQon  perruquier,  nay,  the  very  crust  I  give  to  his  little 
bare-bottomed,  red-eyed  poodle,  are  autant  de  perdu  to  my 
old  friend  the  barber,  and  honest  Trusty,  the  mastiff-dog  in 
the  yard.  So  that  I  have  the  happiness  of  knowing  at  every 
turn  that  my  absence  is  both  missed  and  moaned  by  those 
who  would  care  little  were  I  in  my  coffin,  were  they  sure  of 
the  custom  of  my  executors.  From  this  charge  of  self-seek- 
ing and  indifference,  however,  I  solemnly  except  Trusty, 
the  yard-dog,  whose  courtesies  towards  me,  I  have  reason  to 
think,  were  of  a  more  disinterested  character  than  those  of 
any  other  person  who  assisted  me  to  consume  the  bounty  of 
the  public. 

Alas  !  the  advantage  of  exciting  such  general  sympathies 
at  home  cannot  be  secured  without  incurring  considerable 
personal  inconvenience.  ''  If  thou  wishest  me  to  weep,  thou 
must  first  shed  tears  thyself, ''  says  Horace ;  and,  truly,  I 
could  sometimes  cry  myself  at  the  exchange  I  have  made  of 
the  domestic  comforts  which  custom  had  rendered  neces- 
saries for  the  foreign  substitutes  which  caprice  and  love  of 
change  had  rendered  fashionable.  I  cannot  but  confess  with 
shame,  that  my  home-bred  stomach  longs  for  the  genuine 
steak,  after  the  fashion  of  Dolly's,  hot  from  the  gridiron, 
brown  without,  and  scarlet  when  the  knife  is  applied  ;  and 
that  all  the  delicacies  of  Very's  carte,  with  his  thousand  va- 
rious orthographies  of  hiftichsde  mouton,  do  not  supply  the 
vacancy.  Then  my  mother's  son  cannot  learn  to  delight  in 
thin  potations  ;  and,  in  these  days  when  malt  is  had  for 
nothing,  I  am  convinced  that  a  double  '^  straick  "  of  John 
Barleycorn  must  have  converted  "  the  poor  domestic  creature, 
small-beer,"  into  a  liquor  twenty  times  more  generous  than 
the  acid  unsubstantial  tipple  which  here  bears  the  honored 
name  of  wine,  though,  in  substance  and  qualities,  much 
similiar  to  your  Seine  water.     Their  higher  wines,  indeed, 


xvi  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

are  well  enough — there  is  nothing  to  except  against  in  theii 
Chateau  Margout,  or  Sillery ;  yet  I  cannot  but  remember 
the  generous  qualities  of  my  sound  old  Oporto.  Nay, 
down  to  the  gargon  and  'his  poodle,  though  they  are  both 
amusing  animals,  and  play  ten  thousand  monkey  tricks  which 
are  diverting  enough,  yet  there  was  more  sound  humor  in 
the  wink  with  which  our  village  Packwood  used  to  com- 
municate the  news  of  the  morning  than  all  Antoine's  gambols 
could  have  expressed  in  a  week,  and  more  of  human  and 
dog-like  sympathy  in  the  wag  of  old  Trusty's  tail  than  if  his 
rival.  Teuton,  had  stood  on  his  hind- legs  for  a  twelvemonth. 
These  signs  of  repentance  come  perhaps  a  little  late,  and  I 
own,  for  I  must  be  entirely  candid  with  my  dear  friend  the 
public,  that  they  have  been  somewhat  matured  by  the  per- 
version of  my  niece  Christy  to  the  ancient  Popish  faith  by 
a  certain  whacking  priest  in  our  neighborhood,  and  the 
marriage  of  my  aunt  Dorothy  to  a  demi-solde  captain  of 
horse,  a  ci-devant  member  of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  and 
who  would,  he  assures  us  have  been  a  field-marshal  by  this 
time  had  our  old  friend  Bonaparte  continued  to  live  and  to 
triumph.  Tor  the  matter  of  Christy,  I  must  own  her  head 
had  been  so  fairly  turned  at  Edinburgh  with  five  routs  a 
night,  that,  though  I  somewhat  distrusted  the  means  and 
medium  of  her  conversation,  I  was  at  the  same  time  glad 
to  see  that  she  took  a  serious  thought  of  any  kind  ;  be- 
sides, there  was  little  loss  in  the  matter,  for  the  convent 
took  her  off  my  hands  for  a  very  reasonable  pension.  But 
aunt  Dorothy's  marriage  on  earth  was  a  very  different  mat- 
ter from  Christian's  celestial  espousals.  In  the  first  place, 
there  were  two  thousand  three  per  cents  as  much  lost  to 
my  family  as  if  the  sponge  had  been  drawn  over  the  na- 
tional  slate,  for  who  the  deuce  could  have  thought  aunt 
Dorothy  would  have  married  ?  Above  all,  who  would  have 
thought  a  woman  of  fifty  years'  experience  would  have  mar- 
ried a  French  anatomy,  his  lower  branch  of  limbs  correspond- 
ing with  the  upper  branch,  as  if  one  pair  of  half -extended 
compasses  had  been  placed  perpendicularly  upon  the  top  of 
another,  while  the  space  on  which  the  hinges  revolved  quite 
sufficed  to  represent  the  body  ?  All  the  rest  was  mustache, 
pelisse,  and  calico  trouser.  She  might  have  commanded  a 
polk  of  real  Cossacks  in  1815,  for  half  the  wealth  which  she 
surrendered  to  this  military  scarecrow.  However,  there  is 
no  more  to  be  said  upon  the  matter,  especially  as  she  had 
come  to  the  length  of  quoting  Rousseau  for  sentiment  \  and  so 

let  that  pass.       jyti^iif  li^Ail'      .xjSAH    umi^t^^aox  Oi  'i^i'vUXMb 


INTRODUCTION  TO  QUE N TIN  DURWARD         xvii 

Having  thus  expectorated  my  bile  against  a  land  which  is, 
notwithstanding,  a  very  merry  land,  and  which  I  cannot 
blame,  because  I  sought  it  and  it  did  not  seek  me,  I  come  to 
the  more  immediate  purpose  of  this  Introduction,  and  which, 
my  dearest  public,  if  I  do  not  reckon  too  much  on  the  con- 
tinuance of  your  favors  (though,  to  say  truth,  consistency 
and  uniformity  of  taste  are  scarce  to  be  reckoned  upon  by 
those  who  court  your  good  graces)  may  perhaps  go  far  to 
make  my  amends  for  the  loss  and  damage  I  have  sustained  by 
bringing  aunt  Dorothy  to  tlie  country  of  thick  calves,  slender 
ankles,  black  mustachios,  bodiless  limbs  (I  assure  you  the 

fellow  is,  as  my  friend  Lord  L said,  a  complete  giblet- 

pie,  all  legs  and  wings),  and  fine  sentiments.  If  she  had 
taken  from  the  half -pay  list  a  ranting  Highlandman,  ay,  or 
a  dashing  son  of  Erin,  I  would  never  have  mentioned  the 
subject ;  but  as  the  affair  has  happened,  it  is  scarce  possible 
not  to  resent  such  a  gratuitous  plundering  of  her  own  lawful 
heirs  and  executors.  But  ^*be  hushed,  my  dark  spirit!'' 
and  let  us  invite  our  dear  public  to  a  more  pleasing  theme 
to  us,  a  more  interesting  one  to  others. 

By  dint  of  drinking  acid  tiff',  as  above  mentioned,  and 
smoking  cigars,  in  which  ^  am  no  novice,  my  public  are  to  be 
informed  that  1  gradual  sipped  and  smoked  myself  into  a 
certain  degree  of  acquaintance  with  un  homme  comme  il 
faut,  one  of  the  few  fine  old  specimens  of  nobility  who  are 
still  to  be  found  in  France,  who,  like  mutilated  statues  of  an 
antiquated  and  obsolete  wor^ihip,  still  command  a  certain 
portion  of  awe  and  estimation  in  the  eyes  even  of  those  by 
whom  neithciv  one  nor  other  are  voluntarily  rendered. 

On  visiting  the  co:^ee-house  of  the  village,  I  was  at 
first  struck  with  the  singular  dignity  and  gravity  of  this 
gentleman's  manners,  his  sedulous  attachment  to  shoes  and 
stockings  in  contempt  of  half-boots  and  pantaloons,  the 
croix  de  St  Louis  at  his  button-hole,  and  a  small  white 
cockade  in  the  loop  of  his  old-fashioned  schakos.  There  was 
something  intei  casting  in  his  whole  appearance  ;  and  besides, 
his  gravity  among  the  lively  group  around  him  seemed  like 
the  shade  of  a  tree  in  the  glare  of  a  sunny  landscape,  more 
interesting  from  its  rarity.  I  made  such  advances  towards 
acquaintance  as  the  circumstances  of  the  place  and  the  man- 
ners of  the  country  authorized — that  is  to  say,  I  drew  nea^ 
him,  smoked  my  cigar  by  calm  and  intermitted  puffs,  which 
were  scarcely  visible,  and  asked  him  those  few  questions 
which  good-breeding  everywhere,  but  more  especially  in 
France,  permits  strangers  to  put  without  hazarding  the  impu 


xviii  WA  VERLET  NO  VELS 

tation  of  impertinence.  The  Marquis  de  Hautlieu,  for  such 
was  his  rank,  was  as  short  and  sententious  as  French  polite- 
ness permitted.  He  answered  every  question,  but  proposed 
nothing,  and  encouraged  no  farther  inquiry. 

The  truth  was,  that,  not  very  accessible  to  foreigners  of 
any  nation,  or  even  to  strangers  among  his  own  countrymen, 
the  marquis  was  peculiarly  shy  towards  the  English.  A  rem- 
nant of  ancient  national  prejudice  might  dictate  this  feeling; 
or  it  might  arise  from  his  idea  that  they  are  a  haughty, 
purse-proud  people,  to  whom  rank  united  with  straitened 
circumstances,  affords  as  much  subject  for  scorn  as  for  pity; 
or  finally,  when  he  reflected  on  certain  recent  events,  he 
might  perhaps  feel  mortified  as  a  Frenchman  even  for  those 
successes  which  had  restored  his  master  to  the  throne  and 
himself  to  a  diminished  property  and  dilapidated  chateau. 
His  dislike,  however,  never  assumed  a  more  active  form  than 
that  of  alienation  from  English  society.  When  the  affairs  of 
strangers  required  the  interposition  of  his  influence  in  their 
behalf,  it  was  uniformly  granted  with  the  courtesy  of  a 
French  gentleman  who  knew  what  is  due  to  himself  and  to 
national  hospitality. 

At  length,  by  some  chance,  the  marquis  made  the  dis- 
covery that  the  new  frequenter  of  his  ordinary  was  a  native 
of  Scotland — a  circumstance  which  told  mightily  in  my  favor. 
Some  of  his  own  ancestors,  he  informed  me,  had  been  of 
Scottish  origin,  and  he  believed  his  house  had  still  some  re- 
lations, in  what  he  was  pleased  to  call  the  province  of 
Hanguisse  in  that  country.  The  connection  had  been 
acknowledged  early  in  the  last  century  on  both  sides,  and  he 
had  once  almost  determined  during  his  exile  (for  it  may  be 
supposed  that  the  marquis  had  joined  the  ranks  of  Oonde, 
and  shared  all  the  misfortune  and  distresses  of  emigration ) 
to  claim  the  acquaintance  and  protection  of  his  Scottish 
friends.  But  after  all,  he  said,  he  cared  not  to  present  him- 
self before  them  in  circumstances  which  could  do  them  but 
small  credit,  and  which  they  might  think  entailed  some 
little  burden,  perhaps  even  some  little  disgrace  ;  so  that  he 
thought  it  best  to  trust  in  Providence  and  do  the  best  he 
could  for  his  own  support.  What  that  was  I  never  could 
learn  ;  but  I  am  sure  it  inferred  nothing  which  could  be 
discreditable  of  the  excellent  old  man,  who  held  fast  his 
opinions  and  his  loyalty,  through  good  and  bad  repute,  till 
time  restored  him,  aged,  indigent,  and  broken  spirited,  to  the 
country  which  he  had  left  in  the  prime  of  youth  and  health, 
and  sobered  by  age  into  patience,  instead  of  that  tone  of 


INTRODUCTION  TO  QUBNTIN  BUBWABD  xix 

high  resentment  which  promised  speedy  vengeance  upon 
those  who  expelled  him.  I  might  have  langhed  at  some 
points  of  the  marquis's  character,  at  his  prejudices  particu- 
larly, both  at  birth  and  politics,  if  I  had  known  him  under 
more  prosperous  circumstances ;  but,  situated  as  he  was, 
even  if  they  had  not  been  fair  and  honest  prejudices,  turning 
on  no  base  or  interested  motive,  one  must  have  respected  him 
as  we  respect  the  confessor  of  the  martyr  of  a  religion  which 
is  not  entirely  our  own. 

By  degrees  we  became  good  friends,  drank  our  coffee, 
smoked  our  cigar,  and  took  our  havoroise  together,  for  more 
than  six  weeks,  with  little  interruption  from  avocations  on 
either  side.  Having  with  some  difficulty  got  the  key-note  of 
his  inquiries  concerning  Scotland,  by  a  fortunate  conjecture 
that  the  province  d'Hanguisse  could  only  be  our  shire  of 
Angues,  I  was  enabled  to  answer  the  most  of  his  queries  con- 
cerning his  allies  there  in  a  manner  more  or  less  satisfactory, 
and  was  much  surprised  to  find  the  marquis  much  better 
acquainted  with  the  genealogy  of  some  of  the  distinguished 
families  in  that  county  than  I  could  possibly  have  expected. 

On  his  part  his  satisfaction  at  our  intercourse  was  so  great 
that  heat  length  wound  himself  to  such  a  pitch  of  resolution 
as  to  invite  me  to  dine  at  the  Chdteau  de  Hautlieu,  well  deserv- 
ing the  name,  as  occupying  a  commanding  eminence  on  the 
banks  of  the  Loire.  This  building  lay  about  three  miles  from 
the  town  at  which  I  had  settled  my  temporary  establishment ; 
and  when  I  first  beheld  it  I  could  easily  forgive  the  mortified 
feelings  which  the  owner  testified  at  receiving  a  guest  in  the 
asylum  which  he  had  formed  out  of  the  ruins  of  the  palace  of 
his  fathers.  He  gradually,  with  much  gaiety,  which  yet 
evidently  covered  a  deeper  feeling,  prepared  me  for  the  sort 
of  place  I  was  about  to  visit ;  and  for  this  he  had  full  oppor- 
tunity whilst  he  drove  me  in  his  little  cabriolet,  drawn  by  a 
large  heavy  Norman  horse,  towards  the  ancient  building. 

Its  remains  run  along  a  beautiful  terrace  overhanging  the 
river  Loire,  which  had  been  formerly  laid  out  with  a  succession 
of  flights  of  steps,  highly  ornamented  with  statues,  rockwork, 
and  other  artificial  embellishments,  descending  from  one 
terrace  to  another  until  the  very  verge  of  the  river  was  at- 
tained. All  this  architectural  decoration,  with  its  accom- 
panying parterres  of  rich  flowers  and  exotic  shrubs,  had, 
many  years  since,  given  place  to  the  more  profitable  scene  of 
the  vine-dresser's  labors  ;  yet  the  remains,  too  massive  to  be 
destroyed,  are  still  visible,  and,  with  the  various  artificial 
slopes  and  levels  of  the  high  bank,  bear  perfect  evidence 


XX  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

how  actively  art  had  been  here  employed  to  decorate 
nature. 

Few  of  these  scenes  are  now  left  in  perfection ;  for  the 
fickleness  of  fashion  has  accomplished  in  England  the  total 
change  which  devastation  and  popular  fury  have  produced 
in  the  French  pleasure-grounds.  For  my  part,  I  am  con- 
tented to  subscribe  to  the  opinion  of  the  best  qualified  judge 
of  our  time,  *  who  thinkg  we  have  carried  to  an  extreme  our 
taste  for  simplicity,  and  that  the  neighborhood  of  a  stately 
mansion  requires  some  more  ornate  embellishments  than  can 
be  derived  from  the  meager  accompaniments  of  grass  and 
gravel.  A  highly  romantic  situation  may  be  degraded,  per- 
haps, by  an  attempt  at  such  artificial  ornaments  ;  but  then, 
in  by  far  the  greater  number  of  sites,  the  intervention  of 
more  architectural  decoration  than  is  now  in  use  seems  neces- 
sary  to  redeem  the  naked  tameness  of  a  large  house,  placed 
by  itself  in  the  midst  of  a  lawn,  where  it  looks  as  much 
unconnected  with  all  around  as  if  it  had  walked  out  of  town 
upon  an  airing. 

How  the  taste  came  to  change  so  suddenly  and  absolutely 
is  rather  a  singular  circumstance,  unless  we  explain  it  on  the 
same  principle  on  which  the  three  friends  of  the  father  in 
Moli^re^s  comedy  recommend  a  cure  for  the  melancholy  of  his 
daughter — that  he  should  furnish  her  apartments,  viz.,  with 
paintings,  with  tapestry,  or  with  china,  according  to  the  dif- 
ferent commodities  in  which  each  of  them  was  a  dealer. 
Tried  by  this  scale,  we  may  perhaps  discover  that,  of  old, 
the  architect  laid  out  the  garden  and  the  pleasure-grounds 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  mansion,  and,  naturally  enough, 
displayed  his  own  art  there  in  statues  and  vases^  and  paved 
terraces  and  flights  of  steps  with  ornamented  balustrades  ; 
while  the  gardener,  subordinate  in  rank,  endeavored  to 
make  the  vegetable  kingdom  correspond  to  the  prevailing 
taste,  and  cut  his  evergreens  into  verdant  walls,  with  towers 
and  battlements,  and  his  detached  trees  into  a  resemblance 
of  statuary.  But  the  wheel  has  since  revolved,  so  as  to  place 
the  landscape-gardener,  as  he  is  called,  almost  upon  a  level 
with  the  architect ;  and  hence  a  liberal  and  somewhat  violent 
use  is  made  of  spade  and  pick-ax,  and  a  conversion  of  the 
ostentatious  labors  of  the  architect  into  s,ferme  ornee,  as 
little  different  from  the  simplicity  of  nature,  as  displayed  in 
the  surrounding  country,  as  the  comforts  of  convenient  and 
cleanly  walks  imperiously  demanded  in  the  vicinage  of  a 
gentleman's  residence  can  possibly  admit. 

♦  See  Price  on  the  Picturesque.    Note  1. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  QUENTIN  DURWABD  xxl 

To  return  from  this  digression,  which  has  given  the  mar- 
quis's cabriolet  (its  activity  greatly  retarded  by  the  downward 
propensities  of  Jean  Eoast-Beef,  which  I  suppose  the  Nor- 
man horse  cursed  as  heartily  as  his  countrymen  of  old  time 
execrated  the  stolid  obesity  of  a  Saxon  slave)  time  to  ascend 
the  hill  by  a  winding  causeway,  now  much  broken,  we  came  in 
sight  of  a  long  range  of  roofless  buildings  connected  with  the 
western  extremity  of  the  castle,  which  was  totally  ruinous. 
"  I  should  apologize,"  he  said,  "  to  you,  as  an  Englishman, 
for  the  taste  of  my  ancestors,  in  connecting  that  row  of 
stables  with  the  architecture  of  the  chateau.  I  know  in  your 
country  it  is  usual  to  remove  them  to  some  distance  ;  but  my 
family  had  an  hereditary  pride  in  horses,  and  were  fond  of 
visiting  them  more  frequently  than  would  have  been  con- 
venient if  they  had  been  kept  at  a  greater  distance.  Before 
the  Revolution  I  had  thirty  fine  horses  in  that  ruinous 
line  of  buildings/' 

This  recollection  of  past  magnificence  escaped  from  him 
accidentally,  for  he  was  generally  sparing  in  alluding  to  his 
former  opulence.  It  was  quietly  said,  without  any  affecta- 
tion either  of  the  importance  attached  to  early  wealth,  or  as 
demanding  sympathy  for  its  having  passed  away.  It 
awakened  unpleasing  reflections,  however,  and  we  were  both 
silent,  till,  from  a  partially  repaired  corner  of  what  had  been 
a  porter's  lodge,  a  lively  French  paysanne,  with  eyes  as  black 
as  jet  and  as  brilliant  as  diamonds,  came  out  with  a  smile, 
which  showed  a  set  of  teeth  that  duchesses  might  have  envied, 
and  took  the  reins  of  the  little  carriage. 

'*  Madelon  must  be  groom  to-day,"  said  the  marquis,  after 
graciously  nodding  in  return  for  her  deep  reverence  to  Mon- 
sieur, *'  for  her  husband  is  gone  to  market ;  and  for  La 
Jeunesse,  he  is  almost  distracted  with  his  various  occupa- 
tions. Madelon,"  he  continued,  as  he  walked  forward  under 
the  entrance-arch,  crowned  with  the  mutilated  armorial 
bearings  of  former  lords,  now  half-obscured  by  moss  and 
rye-grass,  not  to  mention  the  vagrant  branches  of  some 
unpruned  shrubs — "  Madelon  was  my  wife's  god-daughter, 
and  was  educated  to  be  fille-de'chambre  to  my  daughter." 

This  passing  intimation,  that  he  was  a  widowed  husband 
and  childless  father,  increased  my  respect  for  the  unfortu- 
nate nobleman,  to  whom  every  particular  attached  to  his 
present  situation  brought  doubtless  its  own  share  of  food  for 
melancholy  reflection.  He  proceeded,  after  the  pause  of  an 
instant,  with  something  of  a  gayer  tone — "  You  will  be  en- 
tertained with  my  poor  La  Jeunesse/'  he  said,  *'  who,  by  the 


xxii  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

way,  is  ten  years  older  than  I  am  (the  marquis  is  above  sixty)  ; 
he  reminds  me  of  the  player  in  the  Roman  Comique,  who 
acted  a  whole  play  in  his  own  proper  person  ;  he  insists  on 
being  maitre  d'hotel,  maitre  de  cuisine,  valet-de-cJiamhre,  a 
whole  suite  of  attendants  in  his  own  poor  individuality.  He 
sometimes  reminds  me  of  a  character  in  the  Bridle  of  Lam- 
mermore,  which  you  must  have  read,  as  it  is  the  work  of  one 
of  your  gens  de  lettres,  qu'on  appelle,  je  crois,  le  Chevalier 
Scott"  * 

"  I  presume  you  mean  Sir  Walter  ?  " 

*^  Yes — the  same — the  same/'  answered  the  marquis. 

Wp  were  now  led  away  from  more  painful  recollections; 
for  I  had  to  put  my  French  friend  right  in  two  particulars. 
In  the  first  I  prevailed  with  difficulty  ;  for  the  marquis, 
though  he  disliked  the  English,  yet,  having  been  three 
months  in  London,  piqued  himself  on  understanding  the 
most  intricate  difficulties  of  our  language,  and  appealed  to 
every  dictionary,  from  Florio  downwards,  that  la  bride  m.ust 
mean  ''  the  bridle. '*  Nay,  so  skeptical  was  he  on  this  point 
of  philology,  that  when  I  ventured  to  hint  that  there  was 
nothing  about  a  bridle  in  the  whole  story,  he  with  great 
composure,  and  little  knowing  to  whom  he  spoke,  laid  the 
whole  blame  of  that  inconsistency  on  the  unfortunate  author. 
I  had  next  the  common  candor  to  inform  my  friend,  upon 
grounds  which  no  one  could  know  so  well  as  myself,  that  my 
distinguished  literary  countryman,  of  whom  I  shall  always 
speak  with  the  respect  his  talents  deserve,  was  not  responsible 
for  the  slight  works  which  the  humor  of  the  public  had  too 
generously,  as  well  as  too  rashly,  ascribed  to  him.  Surprised 
by  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  I  might  even  have  gone  farther, 
and  clinched  the  negative  by  positive  evidence,  owning  to  my 
entertainer  that  no  one  else  could  possibly  have  written  these 
works,  since  I  myself  was  the  author,  when  I  was  saved  from 
so  rash  a  commitment  of  myself  by  the  calm  reply  of  the 
marquis,  that  he  was  glad  to  hear  these  sort  of  trifles  were  not 
written  by  a  person  of  condition.  '^  We  read  them,''  he  said. 
''  as  we  listen  to  the  pleasantries  of  a  comedian,  or  as  our  an- 
cestors did  to  those  of  a  professed  family-jester,  with  a  good 
deal  of  amusement,  which,  however,  we  should  be  sorry  to 
derive  from  the  mouth  of  one  who  has  better  claims  to  our 
society.*' 

I  was  completely  recalled  to  my  constitutional  caution  by 

•  It  is  scarce  necessary  to  remind  the  reader  that  this  passage 
was  pubhshed  during  the  Author's  incognito ;  and,  as  Lucio  ex« 
proases  it,  spoken  **  according  to  the  trick." 


INTRODUCTION  TO  QUENTIN  DUBWABD  xxlii 

this  declaration,  and  became  so  much  afraid  of  committing 
myself,  that  I  did  not  even  venture  to  explain  to  my  aristo- 
cratic friend  that  the  gentleman  whom  he  had  named  owed 
his  advancement,  for  aught  I  had  ever  heard,  to  certain 
works  of  his,  which  may,  without  injury,  be  compared  to 
romances  in  rhyme. 

The  truth  is,  that  amongst  some  other  unjust  prejudices, 
at  which  I  have  already  hinted,  the  marquis  had  contracted 
a  horror,  mingled  with  contempt,  for  almost  every  species  of 
author-craft  slighter  than  that  which  compounds  a  folio 
volume  of  law  or  of  divinity,  and  looked  upon  the  author  of  a 
romance,  novel,  fugitive  poem,  or  periodical  piece  of  criticism 
as  men  do  on  a  venomous  reptile,  with  fear  at  once  and  with 
loathing.  The  abuse  of  the  press,  he  contended,  especially 
in  its  lighter  departments,  had  poisoned  the  whole  morality 
of  Europe,  and  was  once  more  gradually  regaining  an  in- 
fluence which  had  been  silenced  amidst  the  voice  of  war. 
All  writers  except  those  of  the  largest  and  heaviest  calibre, 
he  conceived  to  be  devoted  to  this  evil  cause,  from  Eousseau 
and  Voltaire  down  to  Pigault  le  Brun  and  the  author  of  the 
Scotch  novels  ;  and  although  he  admitted  he  read  them 
pour  passer  le  temps,  yet  like  Pistol  eating  his  leek,  it  was 
not  without  execrating  the  tendency,  as  he  devoured  the  story, 
of  the  work  with  which  he  was  engaged. 

Observing  this  peculiarity,  I  backed  out  of  the  candid 
confession  which  my  vanity  had  meditated,  and  engaged  the 
marquis  in  farther  remarks  on  the  mansion  of  his  ancestors. 
'^  There, ^'  he  said,  *^'  was  the  theater  where  my  father  used  to 
procure  an  order  for  the  special  attendance  of  some  of  th^ 
principal  actors  of  the  Comedie  Fran9oise  when  the  King 
and  Madame  Pompadour  more  than  once  visited  him  at 
this  place  ;  yonder,  more  to  the  center,  was  the  baron's  hall 
where  his  feudal  jurisdiction  was  exercised  when  criminals 
were  to  be  tried  by  the  seigneur  or  his  bailiff ;  for  we  had, 
like  your  old  Scottish  nobles,  the  right  of  pit  and  gallows, 
or  fossa  cum  furca,  as  the  civilians  term  it.  Beneath  that 
lies  the  question-chamber,  or  apartment  for  torture ;  and, 
truly,  I  am  sorry  a  right  so  liable  to  abuse  should  have 
been  lodged  in  the  hands  of  any  living  creature.  But,''  he 
added,  with  a  feeling  of  dignity  derived  even  from  the 
atrocities  which  his  ancestors  had  committed  beneath  the 
grated  windows  to  which  he  pointed,  ^'  such  is  tho  effect  of 
superstition  that,  to  this  day,  the  peasants  dare  not  approach 
the  dungeons,  in  which,  it  is  said,  the  wrath  of  my  ancestors 
had  perpetrated,  in  former  times,  much  cruelty.'* 


XxlT  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

As  we  approached  the  window,  while  I  expressed  some 
curiosity  to  see  this  abode  of  terror,  there  arose  from  its 
subterranean  abyss  a  shrill  shout  of  laughter,  which  we  easily 
detected  as  produced  by  a  group  of  playful  children,  who 
had  made  the  neglected  vaults  a  theatre  for  a  joyous  romp 
at  Colin  Maillard. 

The  marquis  was  somewhat  disconcerted,  and  had  recourse 
to  his  tabatiere ;  but,  recovering  in  a  moment,  observed 
these  were  Madelon's  children,  and  familiar  with  the  sup- 
posed terrors  of  the  subterranean  recesses.  '^  Besides,"  he 
added,  *'  to  speak  the  truth,  these  poor  children  have  been 
born  after  the  period  of  supposed  illumination,  which  dis- 
pelled our  superstition  and  our  religion  at  once ;  and  this 
bids  me  to  remind  you,  that  this  is  a  jourmaigre.  The  cure 
of  the  parish  is  my  only  guest,  besides  yourself,  and  I  would 
not  voluntarily  offend  his  opinions.  Besides,"  he  continued 
more  manfully,  and  throwing  off  his  restraint,  *'  adversity 
has  taught  me  other  thoughts  on  these  subjects  than  those 
which  prosperity  dictated  ;  and  I  thank  God  I  am  not 
ashamed  to  avow  that  I  follow  the  observances  of  my  church." 

I  hastened  to  answer,  that,  though  they  might  differ  from 
those  of  my  own,  I  had  every  possible  respect  for  the  religi- 
ous rules  of  every  Christian  community,  sensible  that  we 
addressed  the  same  Deity,  on  the  same  grand  principle  of 
salvation,  though  with  different  forms  ;  which  variety  of  wor- 
ship, had  it  pleased  the  Almighty  not  to  permit,  our  obser- 
vances would  have  been  as  distinctly  prescribed  to  us  as  they 
are  laid  down  under  the  Mosaic  law. 

The  marquis  was  no  shaker  of  hands,  but  upon  the  present 
occasion  he  grasped  mine  and  shook  it  kindly — the  only  mode 
of  acquiescence  in  my  sentiments  which  perhaps  a  zealous 
Catholic  could  or  ought  consistently  to  have  given  upon 
such  an  occasion. 

This  circumstance  of  explanation  and  remark,  with  others 
which  arose  out  of  the  view  of  the  extensive  ruins,  occupied 
us  during  two  or  three  turns  upon  the  lon^  terrace,  and  a 
seat  of  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  duration  in  a  vaulted 
pavilion  of  freestone,  decorated  with  the  marquis's  armorial 
bearings,  the  roof  of  which,  though  disjointed  in  some  of  its 
groined  arches,  was  still  solid  and  entire.  *'  Here"  said  he, 
resuming  the  tone  of  a  former  part  of  his  conversation,  "  I 
love  to  sit,  either  at  noon,  when  the  alcove  affords  me  shelter 
from  the  heat,  or  in  the  evening,  when  the  sun's  beams  are 
dying  on  the  broad  face  of  the  Loire — here  in  the  words  of 
your  great  poet,  whom,  Trenchman  as  I  am,  I  am  more  inti- 


INTRODUCTION  TO  QUENTIN  DURWABD  xx? 

mately  acquainted  with  than  most  Englishmen,  I  love  to  rest 
myself, 

*  Showing  the  code  of  sweet  and  bitter  fancy.' " 

Against  this  various  reading  of  a  well-known  passage  in 
Shakspeare,  I  took  care  to  offer  no  protest  ;  for  I  suspect 
Shakspeare  would  have  suffered  in  the  opinion  of  so  delicate 
a  judge  as  the  marquis,  had  I  proved  his  having  written 
''chewing  the  cud,^'  according  to  all  other  authorities. 
Besides,  I  had  had  enough  of  our  former  dispute,  having 
been  long  convinced  (though  not  until  ten  years  after  1  had 
left  Edinburgh  College)  that  the  pith  of  conversation  does 
not  consist  in  exhibiting  your  own  superior  knowledge  on 
matters  of  small  consequence,  but  in  enlarging,  improving, 
and  correcting  the  information  you  possess  by  the  authority 
of  others.  I  therefore  let  the  marquis  show  hie  code  at  his 
pleasure,  and  was  rewarded  by  his  entering  into  a  learned 
and  well-informed  disquisition  on  the  florid  st3de  of  archi- 
tecture introduced  into  France  during  the  17th  century.  He 
pointed  out  its  merits  and  its  defects  with  considerable  taste  ; 
and  having  touched  on  topics  similar  to  those  upon  which  I 
have  formerly  digressed,  he  made  an  appeal  of  a  different 
kind  in  their  favor,  founded  on  the  associations  with  which 
they  were  combined.  "  Who,^' he  said,  *' would  willingly 
destroy  the  terraces  of  the  chateau  of  Sully,  since  we  cannot 
tread  them  without  recalling  the  image  of  that  statesman, 
alike  distinguished  for  severe  integrity  and  for  strong  and 
unerring  sagacity  of  mind  ?  "Were  they  an  inch  less  broad, 
a  ton's  weight  less  massive,  or  were  they  deprived  of  their 
formality  by  the  slightest  inflections,  could  we  suppose  them 
to  remain  the  scene  of  his  patriotic  musings  ?  Would  an 
ordinary  root-house  be- a  fit  scene  for  the  duke  occupying  an 
arm-chair  and  his  duchess  a  tabouret,  teaching  from  thence 
lessons  of  courage  and  fidelity  to  his  sons,  of  modesty  and 
submission  to  his  daughters,  of  rigid  morality  to  both  ;  while 
the  circle  of  young  noblesse  listened  with  ears  attentive,  and 
eyes  modestly  fixed  on  the  ground,  in  a  standing  posture, 
neither  replying  nor  sitting  down  without  the  express  com- 
mand of  their  Prince  and  parent  ?  No,  monsieur,''  he  said 
with  enthusiasm  ;  "  destroy  the  princely  pavilion  in  which 
this  edifying  family-scene  was  represented,  and  you  remove 
from  the  mind  the  vraisemblance,  the  veracity,  of  the  whole 
representation.  Or  can  your  mind  suppose  this  distinguished 
peer  and  patriot  walking  in  a  Jar  din  Anglois  9  Why,  you 
might  as  well  fancy  him  dressed  with  a  blue  frock  and  white 


xxvi  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

waistcoat,  instead  of  his  Henri  Quatre  coat  and  chapeau-d,- 
'plumes.  Consider  how  he  could  have  moved  in  the  tortuous 
maze  of  what  you  have  called  Q,ferme  ornee,  with  his  usual 
attendants  of  two  files  of  Swiss  guards  preceding  and  the 
same  number  following  him.  To  recall  his  figure,  with  his 
beard,  haut-de-chaiisses  a  cannon,  united  to  his  doublet  by 
ten  thousand  aiguilettes  and  knots  of  ribbon,  you  could  not, 
supposing  him  in  a  modern  jar  din  Anglois,  distinguish  the 
picture  in  your  imagination  from  the  sketch  of  some  mad 
old  man,  who  has  adopted  the  humor  of  dressing  like  his 
great-great-grandfather,  and  whom  a  party  of  gens-d'arme% 
were  conducting  to  the  hointal  des  fous.  But  look  on  the 
long  and  magnificent  terrace,  if  it  yet  exists,  which  the  loyal 
and  exalted  Sully  was  wont  to  make  the  scene  of  his  soli- 
tary walk  twice  a-day,  while  he  pondered  over  the  patriotic 
schemes  which  he  nourished  for  advancing  the  glory  of 
France,  or,  at  a  later  and  more  sorrowful  period  of  life, 
brooded  over  the  memory  of  his  murdered  master  and  the 
fate  of  his  distracted  country  :  throw  in  that  noble  back- 
ground of  arcades,  vases,  images,  urns,  and  whatever  could 
express  the  vicinity  of  a  ducal  palace,  and  the  landscape  be- 
comes consistent  at  once.  The  factionnaires,  with  their 
harquebusses  ported,  placed  at  the  extremity  of  the  long  and 
level  walk,  intimate  the  presence  of  the  feudal  prince ; 
while  the  same  is  more  clearly  shown  by  the  guard  of  honor 
which,  precede  and  follow  him,  their  halberds  carried  up- 
right, their  mien  martial  and  stately,  as  if  in  the  presence 
of  an  enemy,  yet  moved,  as  it  were,  with  the  same  soul  as 
their  princely  superior  ;  teaching  their  steps  to  attend  upon 
his,  marching  as  he  marches,  halting  as  he  halts,  accom- 
modating their  pace  even  to  the  slight  irregularities  of 
pause  and  advance  dictated  by  the  fluctuations  of  his  reverie, 
and  wheeling  with  military  precision  before  and  behind  him, 
who  seems  the  center  and  animating  principle  of  their  armed 
files,  as  the  heart  gives  life  and  energy  to  the  human  body. 
Or,  if  you  smile,"  added  the  marquis,  looking  doubtfully  on 
my  countenance,  *^  at  a  promenade  so  inconsistent  with  the 
light  freedom  of  modern  manners,  could  you  bring  your 
mind  to  demolish  that  other  terrace  trod  by  the  fascinating 
Marchioness  de  Sevign6,  with  which  are  united  so  many  rec- 
ollections connected  with  passages  in  her  enchanting  let- 
ters ? '' 

A  little  tired  of  this  disquisition,  which  the  marquis  certain- 
ly dwelt  upon  to  exalt  the  natural  beauties  of  his  own  terrace, 
which,  dilapitated  as  it  was,  required  no  such  formal  recom- 


I 


INTBODUCTION  TO  QUENTIN  DUBWABD        xxvil 

mendation,  I  informed  my  companion  that  I  had  just  re- 
ceived from  England  a  journal  of  a  tour  made  in  the  south 
of  France  by  a  young  Oxonian  friend  of  mine,  a  poet,  a 
draughtsman,  and  a  scholar,  in  which  he  gives  such  an  ani- 
mated and  interesting  description  of  the  Chateau  Grignan, 
the  dwelling  of  Madame  de  Sevigne's  beloved  daughter,  and 
frequently  the  place  of  her  own  residence,  that  no  one  who 
ever  read  the  book  would  be  within  forty  miles  of  the  same 
without  going  a  pilgrimage  to  the  spot.  The  marquis  smiled, 
seemed  very  much  pleased,  and  asked  the  title  at  length  of 
the  work  in  question  ;  and  writing  down  to  my  dictation. 
An  Itinerary  of  Provence  and  the  Rhone,  made  during  the 
mar  1819,*  by  John  Hughes,  A.M.,  of  Oriel  College,  Ox- 
ford, observed,  he  could  now  purchase  no  books  for  the 
chdteau,  but  would  recommend  that  the  Itineraire  should 
be  commissioned  for  the  library  to  which  he  was  ahonnt  in 
the  neighboring  town.  *^And  here,"  he  said,  *' comes  the 
cure  to  save  us  farther  disquisition ;  and  I  see  La  Jeunesse 
gliding  round  the  old  portico  on  the  terrace,  with  the  pur- 
pose of  ringing  the  dinner-bell — a  most  unnecessary  ceremony 
for  assembling  three  persons,  but  which  it  would  break  the 
old  man's  heart  to  forego.  Take  no  notice  of  him  at  present, 
as  he  wishes  to  perform  the  duties  of  the  inferior  depart- 
ments incognito  ;  when  the  bell  has  ceased  to  sound,  lie  will 
blaze  forth  on  us  in  the  character  of  major-domo." 

As  the  marquis  spoke,  we  had  advanced  towards  the  eastern 
extremity  of  the  chateau,  which  was  the  only  part  of  the 
edifice  that  remained  still  habitable. 

"  The  Bande  Noire,"  said  the  marquis,  "  when  they  pulled 
the  rest  of  the  house  to  pieces,  for  the  sake  of  the  lead,  timber, 
and  other  materials,  have,  in  their  ravages,  done  me  the  un- 
designed favor  to  reduce  it  to  dimensions  better  fitting  the 
circumstances  of  the  owner.  There  is  enough  of  the  leaf  left 
for  the  catapillar  to  coil  up  his  chrysalis  in,  and  what  needs 
he  care  though  reptiles  have  devoured  the  rest  of  the  bush  ?  " 

As  he  spoke  thus,  we  reached  the  door,  at  which  La  Jeunesse 
appeared,  with  an  air  at  once  of  prompt  service  and  deep 
respect,  and  a  countenance  which,  though  puckered  by  a 
thousand  wrinkles,  was  ready  to  answer  the  first  good-natured 
word  of  his  master  with  a  smile,  which  showed  his  white  set 
of  teeth  firm  and  fair,  in  despite  of  age  and  suffering.  His 
clean  silk  stockings,  washed  till  their  tint  had  become  yel- 
lowish, his  cue  tied  with  a  rosette,  the  thin  gray  curl  on  either 
side  of  his  lank  cheek,  the  pearl-colored  coat,  without  a 
*  See  Hiighes's  Itinerary,    Note  3. 


xxviil  WAVERLEY  NOVELS  - 

collar,  the  solitaire,  the  jabot,  the  ruffles  at  the  wrist,  and 
the  chateau-bras — all  announced  that  La  Jeunesse  considered 
the  arrival  of  a  guest  at  the  chateau  as  an  unusual  event, 
which  was  to  be  met  with  a  corresponding  display  of  magnifi- 
cence and  parade  on  his  part. 

As  I  looked  at  the  faithful  though  fantastic  follower  of  his 
master,  who  doubtless  inherited  his  prejudices  as  well  as  his 
cast-clothes,  I  could  not  but  own,  in  my  oWn  mind,  the  re- 
semblance pointed  out  by  the  marquis  betwixt  him  and  my 
own  Caleb,  the  trusty  squire  of  the  Master  of  Eavenswood. 
But  a  Frenchman,  a  Jack-of-all- trades  by  nature,  can,  with 
much  more  ease  and  suppleness,  address  himself  to  a  variety 
of  services,  and  suffice  in  his  own  person  to  discharge  them 
all,  than  is  possible  for  the  formality  and  slowness  of  a  Scot- 
tishman.  Superior  to  Caleb  in  dexterity,  though  not  in  zeal. 
La  Jeunesse  seemed  to  multiply  himself  with  the  necessities 
of  the  occasion,  and  discharged  his  several  tasks  with  such 
promptitude  and  assiduity,  that  farther  attendance  than  his 
was  neither  missed  nor  wished  for. 

The  dinner,  in  particular,  was  exquisite.  The  soup, 
although  bearin-g  the  term  of  maigre,  which  Englishmen  use 
in  scorn,  was  most  delicately  flavored,  and  the  matelot  of 
pike  and  eels  reconciled  me,  though  a  Scottishman,  to  the 
latter.  There  was  even  sl petit  plat  of  bouilU  for  the  heretic, 
so  exquisitely  dressed  as  to  retain  all  the  juices,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  rendered  so  thoroughly  tender  that  nothing  could 
be  more  delicate.  The  potage,  with  another  small  dish  or 
two,  was  equally  well  arranged.  But  what  the  old  maitre 
d'hotel  valued  himself  upon  as  something  superb,  smiling 
with  self-satisfaction,  and  in  enjoyment  of  my  surprise,  as 
he  placed  it  on  the  table,  was  an  immense  assiettee  of  spinage, 
not  smoothed  into  a  uniform  surface,  as  by  our  uninaugurated 
cooks  upon  your  side  of  the  water,  but  swelling  into  hills 
and  declining  into  vales,  over  which  swept  a  gallant  stag, 
pursued  by  a  pack  of  hounds  in  full  cry,  and  a  noble  field  of 
horsemen  with  bugle-horns,  and  whips  held  upright,  and 
brandished  after  the  manner  of  broadswords — hounds,  hunts- 
man, and  stag  being  all  very  artificially  cut  out  of  toasted 
bread.  Enjoying  the  praises  which  I  failed  not  to  bestow  on 
this  chef  d'osuvre,  the  old  man  acknowledged  it  had  cost  the 
best  part  of  two  days  to  bring  it  to  perfection  ;  and  added, 
given  honor  where  honor  was  due,  that  an  idea  so  brilliant 
was  not  entirely  his  own,  but  that  Monsieur  himself  had 
taken  the  trouble  to  give  him  several  valuable  hints,  and 
even  condescended  to  assist  in  the  execution  of  some  of  the 


tNTltODlTCTlON  TO  qUENTtN  DURWABD  xxix 

most  capital  figures.  The  marquis  blushed  a  little  at  this 
eclair cissement,  which  he  might  probably  have  wished  to  sup- 
press, but  acknowledged  he  had  wished  to  surprise  me  with  a 
scene  from  the  popular  poem  of  my  country,  Miladi  Lac,  I 
answered,  that  **  So  splendid  a  cortege  much  more  resembled 
a  grand  chasse  of  Louis  Quatorze  than  of  a  poor  King  of 
Scotland,  and  that  the  paysage  was  rather  like  Fontainebleau 
than  the  wilds  of  Callander/^  He  bowed  graciously  in  answer 
to  this  compliment,  and  acknowledged  that  recollections  of 
the  costume  of  the  old  French  court,  when  in  its  splendor, 
might  have  misled  his  imagination — and  so  the  conversation 
passed  on  to  other  matters. 

Our  dessert  was  exquisite  :  the  cheese,  the  fruits,  the  salad, 
the  olives,  the  cerneaux,  and  the  delicious  white  wine,  each 
in  their  way  were  impayaUes  ;  and  the  good  marquis,  with 
an  air  of  great  satisfaction,  observed,  that  his  guests  did  sin- 
cere homage  to  their  merits.  *' After  all,"  he  said,  ^^and  yet 
it  is  but  confessing  a  foolish  weakness — but,  after  all,  I  can- 
not but  rejoice  in  feeling  myself  equal  to  offering  a  stranger 
a  sort  of  hospitality  which  seems  pleasing  to  him.  Believe 
me,  it  is  not  entirely  out  of  pride  that  we  pauvre  revenants 
live  so  very  retired,  and  avoid  the  duties  of  hospitality.  It 
is  true,  that  too  many  of  us  wander  about  the  halls  of  our 
fathers,  rather  like  ghosts  of  their  deceased  proprietors  than 
like  living  men  restored  to  their  own  possessions  ;  yet  it  is 
rather  on  your  account,  than  to  spare  our  own  feelings,  that 
we  do  not  cultivate  the  society  of  our  foreign  visitors.  We 
have  an  idea  that  your  opulent  nation  is  particularly  attached 
to  faste  and  to  grande  chere — to  your  ease  and  enjoyment  of 
every  kind  ;  and  the  means  of  entertainment  left  to  us  are, 
in  most  cases,  so  limited,  that  we  feel  ourselves  totally  pre- 
cluded from  such  expense  and  ostentation.  No  one  wishes 
to  offer  his  best  where  he  has  reason  to  think  it  will  not  give 
pleasure  ;  and  as  many  of  you  publish  your  journals,  rnon- 
sier  la  marquis  would  not  probably  be  much  gratified  by 
seeing  the  poor  dinner  which  he  was  able  to  present  to 
milord  Anglais  put  upon  permanent  record.'* 

I  interrupted  the  marquis,  that  were  I  to  wish  an  account 
of  my  entertainment  published,  it  would  be  only  in  order  to 
preserve  the  memory  of  the  very  best  dinner  I  ever  had  eaten 
in  my  life.  He  bowed  in  return,  and  presumed  that  ''  1 
either  differed  much  from  the  national  taste,  or  the  accounts 
of  it  were  greatly  exaggerated.  He  was  particularly  obliged 
to  me  for  showing  the  value  of  the  possessions  which  remained 
to  him.     The  useful/'  he  said,  *'  had  no  doubt  aur?iTed  the 


XXX  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

sumptuous  at  Hautlieu  as  elsewhere.  Grottoes,  statues,  curi' 
ous  conservatories  of  exotics,  temple  and  tower,  had  gone  to 
the  ground  ;  but  the  vineyard,  the  potager,  the  orchard,  the 
etange,  still  existed  "  ;  and  once  more  he  expressed  himself 
*'  happy  to  find  that  their  combined  productiont»  could  make 
what  even  a  Briton  accepted  as  a  tolerable  meal.  "  I  only 
hope,"  he  continued,  ''  that  you  will  convince  me  your  com- 
pliments are  sincere  by  accepting  the  hospitality  of  the 
Ohdteau  de  Hautlieu  as  often  as  better  engagements  will 
permit  during  your  stay  in  this  neighborhood." 

I  readily  promised  to  accept  an  invitation  offered  with  such 
grace  as  to  make  the  guest  appear  the  person  conferring  the 
obligation. 

The  conversation  then  changed  to  the  history  of  the  chateau 
and  its  vicinity — a  subject  which  was  strong  ground  to  the 
marquis,  though  he  was  no  great  antic[uary,  and  even  no 
very  profound  historian,  when  other  topics  were  discussed. 
The  cure,  however,  chanced  to  be  both,  and  withal  a  very 
conversable,  pleasing  man,  with  an  air  of  prevenance  and 
ready  civility  of  communication,  which  I  have  found  a  lead- 
ing characteristic  of  the  Catholic  clergy,  whether  they  are 
well-informed  or  otherwise.  It  was  from  him  that  I  learned 
there  still  existed  the  remnant  of  a  fine  library  in  the 
Chateau  de  Hautlieu.  The  marquis  shrugged  his  shoulders 
as  the  cure  gave  me  this  intimation,  looked  to  the  one  side 
and  the  other,  and  displayed  the  same  sort  of  petty  embar- 
rassment which  he  had  been  unable  to  suppress  when  La 
Jeunesse  blabbed  something  of  his  interference  with  the 
arrangements  of  the  cuisine.  "I  should  be  happy  to  show 
the  books,"  he  said,  ''  but  they  are  in  such  a  wild  condition, 
so  dismantled,  that  I  am  ashamed  to  exhibit  them  to  any 
one.^' 

*'  Forgive  me,  my  dear  sir,"  said  the  cur6,  ''  you  know  you 
permitted  the  great  English  bibliomaniac,  Dr.  Dibdin,  to 
consult  your  curious  relics,  and  you  know  how  highly  he 
spoke  of  them." 

*^What  could  I  do,  my  dear  friend  ?"  said  the  marquis  ; 
*'  the  good  doctor  had  heard  some  exaggerated  account  of 
these  remnants  of  what  was  once  a  library  ;  he  had  stationed 
himself  in  the  auberge  below,  determined  to  carry  his  point 
or  die  under  the  walls.  I  even  heard  of  his  taking  the 
altitude  of  the  turret  in  order  to  provide  scaling-ladders. 
You  would  not  have  had  me  reduce  a  respectable  divine, 
though  of  another  church,  to  such  an  act  of  desperation  ?  t 
could  not  have  answered  it  in  conscience/' 


i 


INTRODUCTION  TO  QUENTIN  DUBWABD  xxxl 

''But  you  know,  besides,  monsieur  le  marquis/'  conrinued 
the  cur6,  "  that  Dr.  Dibdin  was  so  much  grieved  at  the 
dilapidation  your  library  had  sustained,  that  he  avowedly 
envied  the  powers  of  our  church,  so  much  did  he  long  to 
launch  an  anathema  at  the  heads  of  the  perpetrators/' 

*'  His  resentment  was  in  proportion  to  his  disappointment, 
I  suppose,  "  said  our  entertainer. 

**  Not  so,''  said  the  cure  ;  *'for  he  was  so  enthusiastic  on 
the  value  of  what  remains,  that  I  am  convinced  nothing  but 
your  positive  request  to  the  contrary  prevented  the  ChSteau 
of  Hautlieu  occupying  at  least  twenty  pages  in  that  splendid 
work  of  which  he  sent  us  a  copy,  and  which  will  remain  a 
lasting  monument  of  his  zeal  and  erudition." 

**Dr.  Dibdin  is  extremely  polite,"  said  the  marquis  ;  "and 
when  we  have  had  our  coffee — here  it  comes — we  will  go  to 
the  turret ;  and  I  hope,  as  monsieur  has  not  despised  my  poor 
fare,  so  he  will  pardon  the  state  of  my  confused  library, 
while  I  shall  be  equally  happy  if  it  can  afford  anything  which 
can  give  him  amusement.  Indeed/'  he  added,  '*  were  it 
otherwise,  you,  my  good  father,  have  every  right  over  books 
which,  without  your  intervention,  would  never  have  returned 
to  the  owner." 

Although  this  additional  act  of  courtesy  was  evidently 
wrested  by  the  importunity  of  the  cure  from  his  reluctant 
friend,  whose  desire  to  conceal  the  nakedness  of  the  land, 
and  the  extent  of  his  losses,  seemed  always  to  struggle  with 
his  disposition  to  be  obliging,  I  could  not  help  accepting  an 
offer  which,  in  strict  politeness,  I  ought  perhaps  to  have  re- 
fused. But  then  the  remains  of  a  collection  of  such  curiosity 
as  had  given  to  our  bibliomaniacal  friend  the  desire  of  leading 
the  forlorn  hope  in  an  escalade — it  would  have  been  a  desper- 
ate act  of  self-denial  to  have  declined  an  opportunity  of  seeing 
it.  La  Jeunesse  brought  coffee,  such  as  we  only  taste  on  the 
continent,  upon  a  salver,  covered  with  a  napkin,  that  it 
might  be  cense  for  silver,  and  chasse-cafe  from  Martinique 
on  a  small  waiter,  which  was  certainly  so.  Our  repast  thus 
finished,  the  marquis  led  me  up  an  escalier  derobe  into  a  very 
large  and  well-proportioned  saloon  of  nearly  one  hundred 
feet  in  length,  but  so  waste  and  dilapidated,  that  I  kept  my 
eyes  on  the  ground,  lest  my  kind  entertainer  should  feel 
himself  called  upon  to  apologize  for  tattered  pictures  and 
torn  tapestry,  and,  worse  than  both,  for  casements  that  had 
yielded,  in  one  or  two  instances,  to  the  boisterous  blast. 

"We  have  contrived  to  make  the  turret  something  more 
habitable,"  said  the  marquis,  as  he  moved  hastily  through 


xxxU  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

this  chamber  of  desolation,  "This/*  he  said,  "was  the 
picture  gallery  in  former  times,  and  in  the  boudoir,  beyond^ 
which  we  now  occupy  as  a  book-closet,  were  preserved  some 
curious  cabinet  paintings,  whose  small  size  required  that 
they  should  be  viewed  closely/' 

As  he  spoke,  he  held  aside  a  portion  of  the  tapestry  I  have 
mentioned,  and  we  entered  the  room  of  which  he  spoke. 

It  was  octangular,  corresponding  to  the  external  shape  of 
the  turret  whose  interior  it  occupied.  Four  of  the  sides  had 
latticed  windows,  commanding  each,  from  a  different  point, 
the  most  beautiful  prospect  over  the  majestic  Loire  and  the 
adjacent  country  through  which  it  winded  ;  and  the  casements 
were  filled  with  stained  glass,  through  two  of  which  streamed 
the  luster  of  the  setting  sun,  showing  a  brilliant  assemblage 
of  religious  emblems  and  armorial  bearings,  which  it  was 
scarcely  possible  to  look  at  with  an  undazzled  eye  ;  but  the 
other  two  windows,  from  which  the  sunbeams  had  passed 
away,  could  be  closely  examined,  and  plainly  showed  that 
the  lattices  were  glazed  with  stained  g^ass,  which  did  not 
belong  to  them  originally,  but,  as  I  afterwards  learned,  to 
the  profaned  and  desecrated  chapel  of  the  castle.  It  had 
been  the  amusement  of  the  marquis  for  several  months  to 
accomplish  this  rifacimentOy  with  the  assistance  of  the  curate 
and  the  all-capable  La  Jeunesse  ;  and  though  they  had  only 
patched  together  fragments,  which  were  in  many  places  very 
minute,  yet  the  stained  glass,  till  examined  very  closely,  and 
with  the  eye  of  an  antiquary,  produced,  on  the  whole,  a 
very  pleasing  effect. 

The  sides  of  the  apartment  not  occupied  by  the  lattices 
were,  except  the  space  for  the  small  door,  fitted  up  with 
presses  and  shelves,  some  of  walnut-tree,  curiously  carved, 
and  brought  to  a  dark  color  by  time,  nearly  resembling  that 
of  a  ripe  chestnut,  and  partly  of  common  deal,  employed  to 
repair  and  supply  the  deficiencies  occasioned  by  violence  and 
devastation.  On  these  shelves  were  deposited  the  wrecks,  or 
rather  the  precious  relics  of  a  most  splendid  library. 

The  marquis's  father  had  been  a  man  of  information,  and 
hie  grandfather  was  famous,  even  in  the  court  of  Louis  XIV., 
where  literature  was  in  some  degree  considered  as  the  fash- 
ion, for  the  extent  of  his  acquirements.  Those  two  proprie- 
tors, opulent  in  their  fortunes,  and  liberal  in  the  indulgence 
of  their  taste,  had  made  such  additions  to  a  curious  old 
Gothic  library,  which  had  descended  from  their  ancestors, 
that  there  were  few  collections  in  France  which  could  be 
compared  to  that  of  Hautlieu.    It  had  been  completely  dis 


INTRODUCTION  TO  QUENTIN  DURWARD        xxxili 

persed,  in  consequence  of  an  ill-judged  attempt  of  the  pres- 
ent marquis,  in  1790,  to  defend  his  chateau  against  a  revolu- 
tionary mob.  Luckily,  the  cure,  who,  by  his  charitable  and 
moderate  conduct  and  his  evangelical  virtues,  possessed  much 
interest  among  the  neighboring  peasantry,  prevailed  on 
many  of  them  to  buy,  for  the  petty  sum  of  a  few  sous,  and 
sometimes  at  the  vulgar  rate  of  a  glass  of  brandy,  volumes 
which  had  cost  large  sums,  but  which  were  carried  off  in 
mere  spite  by  the  ruffians  who  pillaged  the  castle.  He 
himself  also  had  purchased  as  many  of  the  books  as  his  funds 
could  possibly  reach,  and  to  his  care  it  was  owing  that  they 
were  restored  to  the  turret  in  which  I  found  them.  It  was 
no  wonder,  therefore,  that  the  good  cur^  had  some  pride  and 
pleasure  in  showing  the  collection  to  strangers. 

In  spite  of  odd  volumes,  imperfections,  and  all  the  other 
mortifications  which  an  amateur  encounters  in  looking 
through  an  ill-kept  library,  there  were  many  articles  in 
that  ot  Ilautlieu  calculated,  as  Bayes  says,  **  to  elevate  and 
surprise '*  the  bibliomaniac.     There  were, 

The  small  rare  volume,  dark  with  tarnish'd  gold, 

as  Dr.  Ferriar  feelingly  sings — curious  and  richly  painted 
missals,  manuscripts  of  1380,  1320,  and  even  earlier,  and 
works  in  Gothic  type,  printed  in  the  loth  and  16th  centuries. 
But  of  these  I  intend  to  give  a  more  detailed  account  should 
the  marquis  grant  his  permission. 

In  the  meantime,  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that,  delighted 
with  the  day  I  had  spent  at  Hautlieu,  I  frequently  repeated 
my  visit,  and  that  the  key  of  the  octangular  tower  was  always 
at  my  command.  In  those  hours  I  became  deeply  enamored 
of  a  part  of  French  history,  which,  although  most  important 
to  that  of  Europe  at  large,  and  illustrated  by  an  inimitable 
old  historian,  I  had  never  sufficiently  studied.  At  the  same 
time,  to  gratify  the  feelings  of  my  excellent  host,  I  occupied 
myself  occasionally  with  some  family  memorials  which  had 
•fortunately  been  preserved,  and  which  contained  some  curious 
particulars  respecting  the  connection  with  Scotland,  which 
first  found  my  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  Marquis  de  Hautlieu. 


I  pondered  on  these  things,  more  meo,  until  my  I'eturn  to 
Britain,  to  beef  and  sea-coal  fires — a  change  of  residence 
irhich  took  place  since  I  drew  up  these  Gallic  reminiscences. 


xxxlY  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

At  length  the  result  of  my  meditations  took  the  form  cf 
which  my  readers,  if  not  startle*  by  this  preface,  will  presently 
be  enabled  to  judge.  Should  the  public  receive  it  with 
favor,  I  shall  not  regret  having  been  for  a  short  time  an 
absentee* 


QUENTIN  DURWARD 


CHAPTEE  I 

THE  CONTRAST 

Look  here  upon  this  picture,  and  on  this, 
The  counterfeit  presentment  of  two  brothers. 

Hamlet. 

The  latter  part  of  the  15th  century  prepared  a  train  of 
future  events,  that  ended  by  raising  France  to  that  state  of 
formidable  power  which  has  ever  since  been,  from  time  to 
time,  the  principal  object  of  jealousy  to  the  other  European 
nations.  Before  that  period  she  had  to  struggle  for  her  very 
existence  with  the  English,  already  possessed  of  her  fairest 
provinces  ;  while  the  utmost  exertions  of  her  king,  and  the 
gallantry  of  her  people,  could  scarcely  protect  the  remainder 
from  a  foreign  yoke.  Nor  was  this  her  sole  danger.  The 
princes  who  possessed  the  grand  fiefs  of  the  crown,  and,  in 
particular,  the  Dukes  of  Burgundy  and  Bretagnr;,  had  come  to 
wear  their  feudal  bonds  so  lightly,  that  they  had  no  scruple 
in  lifting  the  standard  against  their  liege  and  sovereign 
lord,  the  King  of  France,  on  the  slightest  pretence.  When 
at  peace,  they  reigned  as  absolute  princes  in  their  own  prov- 
inces ;  and  the  house  of  Burgundy,  possessed  of  the  district 
80  called,  together  with  the  fairest  and  richest  part  of  Flan- 
ders, was  itself  so  wealthy  and  so  powerful  as  to  yield  noth- 
ing to  the  crown,  either  in  splendor  or  in  strength. 

In  imitation  of  the  grand  feudatories,  each  inferior  vassal 
of  the  crown  assumed  as  much  independence  as  his  distance 
from  the  sovereign  power,  the  extent  of  his  fief,  or  the 
strength  of  his  chateau,  enabled  him  to  maintain  ;  and  these 
petty  tyrants,  no  longer  amenable  to  the  exercise  of  the  law, 
perpetrated  with  impunity  the  wildest  excesses  of  fantastic 
oppression  and  cruelty.  In  Auvergne  alone,  a  report  was 
made  of  more  than  three  hundred  of  these  independent  nobles, 
to  whom  incest,  murder,  and  rapine  w^re  the  mo3t  ordinary 
aad  familiar  actions. 


2  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

Besides  these  evils,  another,  springing  out  of  the  long-con- 
tinued wars  betwixt  the  French  and  English,  added  no 
small  misery  to  this  distracted  kingdom.  Numerous  bodies 
of  soldiers,  collected  into  bands,  under  officers  chosen  by 
themselves  from  among  the  bravest  and  most  successful  ad- 
venturers, had  been  formed  in  various  pai-ts  of  France  out  of 
the  refuse  of  all  other  countries.  These  hireling  combatants 
sold  their  swords  for  a  time  to  the  best  bidder ;  and,  when 
such  service  was  not  to  be  had,  they  made  war  on  their  own 
account,  seizing  castles  and  towers,  which  they  used  as  the 
places  of  their  retreat,  making  prisoners  and  ransoming 
them,  exacting  tribute  from  the  open  villages  and  the  country 
around  them,  and  acquiring,  by  every  species  of  rapine,  the 
appropriate  epithets  of  tondeurs  and  ecorcheurs,  that  is, 
*^  clippers  *'  and  *'  flayers." 

In  the  midst  of  the  horrors  and  miseries  arising  from  so 
distracted  a  state  of  public  affairs,  reckless  and  profuse  ex- 
pense distinguished  the  courts  of  the  lesser  nobles,  as  well  as 
of  the  superior  princes  ;  and  their  dependants,  in  imitation, 
expended  in  rude  but  magnificent  display  the  wealth  which 
they  extorted  from  the  people.  A  tone  of  romantic  and 
chivalrous  gallantry,  which,  however,  was  often  disgraced 
by  unbounded  license,  characterized  the  intercourse  between 
the  sexes  ;  and  the  language  of  knight-errantry  was  yet  used, 
and  its  observances  followed,  though  the  pure  spirit  of  hon- 
orable love  and  benevolent  enterprise  which  it  inculcates 
had  ceased  to  qualify  and  atone  for  its  extravagances.  The 
jousts  and  tournaments,  the  entertainments  and  revels,  which 
each  petty  court  displayed  invited  to  France  every  wander- 
ing adventurer  ;  and  it  was  seldom  that,  when  arrived  there, 
he  failed  to  employ  his  rash  courage  and  headlong  spirit  of 
enterprise  in  actions  for  which  his  happier  native  country 
afforded  no  free  stage. 

At  this  period,  and  as  if  to  save  this  fair  realm  from  the 
various  woes  with  which  it  was  menaced,  the  tottering  throne 
was  ascended  by  Louis  XI.,  whose  character,  evil  as  it  was  in 
itself,  met,  combated,  and  in  a  great  degree  neutralized,  the 
mischiefs  of  the  time — as  poisons  of  opposing  qualities  are 
said,  in  ancient  books  of  medicine,  to  have  the  power  of  coun- 
teracting each  other. 

Brave  enough  for  every  useful  and  political  purpose,  Louia 
had  not  a  spark  of  that  romantic  valor,  or  of  the  pride  gen- 
erally associated  with  it,  which  fought  on  for  the  point  of 
honor,  when  the  point  of  utility  had  been  long  gained.  Galm, 
crafty,  and  profoundly  attentive  to  his  own  interest,  he  made 


Qt/ENTiN  BUBWARi)  t 

every  sacrifice,  both  of  pride  and  passion,  which  could  inter- 
fere with  it.  He  was  careful  in  disguising  his  real  sentiments 
and  purposes  from  all  who  approached  him,  and  frequently 
used  the  expressions,  "  That  the  king  knew  not  how  to  reign 
who  knew  not  how  to  dissemble  ;  and  that,  for  himself,  if 
he  thought  his  very  cap  knew  his  secrets,  he  would  throw  it 
into  the  fire."  No  man  of  his  own  or  of  any  other  time' 
better  understood  how  to  avail  himself  of  the  frailties  of 
others,  and  when  to  avoid  giving  any  advantage  by  the  un- 
timely indulgence  of  his  own. 

He  was  by  nature  vindictive  and  cruel,  even  to  the  extent 
of  finding  pleasure  in  the  frequent  executions  which  he  com- 
manded. But,  as  no  touch  of  mercy  ever  induced  him  to 
spare  when  he  could  with  safety  condemn,  so  no  sentiment 
of  vengeance  ever  stimulated  him  to  a  premature  violence. 
He  seldom  sprung  on  his  prey  till  it  was  fairly  within  his 
grasp,  and  till  all  hope  of  rescue  was  vain  ;  and  his  move- 
ments were  so  studiously  disguised,  that  his  success  was 
generally  what  first  announced  to  the  world  the  object  he 
had  been  manoeuvering  to  attain. 

In  like  manner,  the  avarice  of  Louis  gave  way  to  apparent 
profusion,  when  it  was  necessary  to  bribe  the  favorite  or 
minister  of  a  rival  prince  for  averting  any  impending  attack, 
or  to  break  up  any  alliance  confederated  against  him.  He 
was  fond  of  license  and  pleasure  ;  but  neither  beauty  nor 
the  chase,  though  both  were  ruling  passions,  ever  withdrew 
him  from  the  most  regular  attendance  to  public  business  and 
the  affairs  of  his  kingdom.  His  knowledge  of  mankind  was 
profound,  and  he  had  sought  it  in  the  private  walks  of  life, 
in  which  he  often  personally  mingled  ;  and,  though  natur- 
ally proud  and  haughty,  he  hesitated  not,  with  an  inatten- 
tion to  the  arbitrary  divisions  of  society  which  was  then 
thought  something  portentously  unnatural,  to  raise  from  the 
lowest  rank  men  whom  he  employed  on  the  most  important 
duties,  and  knew  so  well  how  to  choose  them,  that  he  was 
rarely  disappointed  in  their  qualities. 

Yet  there  were  contradictions  in  the  character  of  this  art- 
ful and  able  monarch  ;  for  human  nature  is  rarely  uniform. 
Himself  the  most  false  and  insincere  of  mankind,  some  of 
the  greatest  errors  of  his  life  arose  from  too  rash  a  confidence 
in  the  honor  and  integrity  of  others.  When  these  errors 
took  place,  they  seem  to  have  arisen  from  an  over-refined 
system  of  policy,  which  induced  Louis  to  assume  the  ap- 
pearance of  undoubting  confidence  in  those  whom  it  was 
nis  object    to    overreach;    for,   in    his    ge^eral    conduct. 


4  WA VERLEY  NOVELS 

he  was  as  jealous  and  suspicious  as  any  tyrant  who  ever 
breathed,    .a' 

Two  other  points  may  be  noticed  to  complete  the  sketch 
of  this  formidable  character,  by  which  he  rose  among  the 
rude  chivalrous  sovereigns  of  the  period  to  the  rank  of  a 
keeper  among  wild  beasts,  who,  by  superior  wisdom  and 
policy,  by  distribution  of  food,  and  some  discipline  by  blows, 
comes  finally  to  predominate  over  those  who,  if  unsubjected 
by  his  arts,  would  by  main  strength  have  torn  him  to  pieces. 

The  first  of  these  attributes  was  Louis's  excessive  super- 
stition— a  plague  with  which  Heaven  often  afflicts  those  who 
refuse  to  listen  to  the  dictates  of  religion.  The  remorse  aris- 
ing from  his  evil  actions,  Louis  never  endeavored  to  appease  by 
any  relaxation  in  his  Machiavellian  stratagems,  but  labored, 
in  vain,  to  soothe  and  silence  that  painful  feeling  by  super- 
stitions observances,  severe  penance,  and  profuse  gifts  to 
the  ecclesiastics.  The  second  property,  with  which  the  first 
is  sometimes  found  strangely  united,  was  a  disposition  to 
low  pleasures  and  obscure  debauchery.  The  wisest,  or  at 
lea-st  the  most  crafty,  sovereign  of  his  time,  he  was  fond  of 
low  life,  and,  being  himself  a  man  of  wit,  enjoyed  the  jests 
and  repartees  of  social  conversation  more  than  could  have 
been  expected  from  other  points  of  his  character.  He  even 
mingled  in  the  comic  adventures  of  obscure  intrigue,  with  a 
freedom  little  consistent  with  the  habitual  and  guarded 
jealousy  of  his  character  ;  and  he  was  so  fond  of  this  species 
of  humble  gallantry,  that  he  caused  a  number  of  its  gay  and 
licentious  anecdotes  to  be  enrolled  in  a  collection  well  known 
to  book-collectors,  in  whose  eyes  (and  the  work  is  unfit  for 
any  other) the  right  edition  is  very  precious.* 

By  means  of  this  monarch's  powerful  and  prudent,  though 
most  unamiable,  character,  it  pleased  Heaven,  who  works 
by  the  tempest  as  well  as  by  the  soft  small  rain,  to  restore 
to  the  great  French  nation  the  benefits  of  civil  government, 
which,  at  the  time  of  his  accession,  they  had  nearly  lost. 

Ere  he  succeeded  to  the  crown,  Louis  had  given  evidence  of 
his  vices  rather  than  of  his  talents.  His  first  wife,  Margaret 
of  Scotland,  was  *'done  to  death  by  slanderous  tongues'' 
in  her  husband's  court,  where,  but  for  the  encourage- 
ment of  Louis  himself,  not  a  word  would  have  been  breathed 
against  that  amiable  and  injured  princess.  He  had  been  an 
ungrateful  and  a  rebellious  son,  at  one  time  conspiring  to 
seize  his  father's  person,  and  at  another  levying  open  war 
against  him.     li^or  the  first  offence,  he  was  banished  to  his 

♦  See  Edition  of  Cent  Nouvdles,    Note  8. 


qUENTIN  DUBWARD  S 

appanage  of  Dauphine,  which  he  governed  with  much  sa- 
gacity ;  for  the  second,  he  was  driven  into  absolute  exile,  and 
forced  to  throw  himself  on  the  mercy,  and  almost  on  the 
charity,  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  and  his  son,  where  he  en- 
joyed hospitality,  afterwards  indifferently  requited,  until 
the  death  of  his  father  in  1461. 

In  the  very  outset  of  his  reign,  Louis  was  almost  over- 
powered by  a  league  formed  against  him  by  the  great  vas- 
sals of  France,  with  the  Duke  of  'Burgundy,  or  rather  his 
son,  the  Count  de  Charalois,  at  its  head.  They  levied 
a  powerful  army,  blockaded  Paris,  fought  a  battle  of 
doubtful  issue  under  its  very  walls,  and  placed  the  French 
monarchy  on  the  brink  of  actual  destruction.  It  usually 
happens  in  such  cases  that  the  more  sagacious  general  of 
the  two  gains  the  real  fruit,  though  perhaps  not  the  mar- 
tial fame,of  the  disputed  field.  Louis,  who  had  shown  great 
personal  bravery  during  the  battle  of  Montrhery,  was  able, 
by  his  prudence,  to  avail  himself  of  its  undecided  character, 
as  if  it  had  been  a  victory  on  his  side.  He  temporized 
until  the  enem^  had  broken  up  their  leaguer,  and  showed 
so  much  dexterity  in  sowing  jealousies  among  those  great 
powers,  that  their  alliance  ''  for  the  public  weal,^^  as  they 
termed  it,  but  in  reality  for  the  overthrow  of  all  but  the  ex- 
ternal appearance  of  the  French  monarchy,  dissolved  itself, 
and  was  never  again  renewed  in  a  manner  so  formidable. 
From  this  period,  Louis,  relieved  of  all  danger  from  Eng- 
land by  the  civil  wars  of  York  and  Lancaster,  was  engaged 
for  several  years,  like  an  unfeeling  but  able  physician,  in 
curing  the  wounds  of  the  body  politic,  or  rather  in  stopping, 
now  by  gentle  remedies,  now  by  the  use  of  fire  and  steel, 
the  progress  of  those  mortal  gangrenes  with  which  it  was 
then  infected.  The  brigandage  of  the  Free  Companies, 
and  the  unpunished  oppressions  of  the  nobility,  he  labored 
to  lessen,  since  he  could  not  actually  stop  them ;  and,  by 
dint  of  unrelaxed  attention,  he  gradually  gained  some  ad- 
dition to  his  own  regal  authority,  or  effected  some  diminu- 
tion of  those  by  whom  it  was  counterbalanced. 

Still  the  King  of  France  was  surrounded  by  doubt  and 
danger.  The  members  of  the  league  '^  for  the  public  weal," 
thojigh  not  in  unison,  were  in  existence,  and,  like  a  scotched 
snake,  might  re-unite  and  become  dangerous  again.  But  a 
worse  danger  was  the  increasing  power  of  the  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, then  one  of  the  greatest  princes  of  Europe,  and 
little  diminished  in  rank  by  the  very  slight  dependence  of 
his  duchy  upon  the  crown  of  France. 


»  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Charles,  surnamed  the  Bold,  or  rather  the  Audacious,  foi 
his  courage  was  allied  to  rashness  and  frenzy,  then  wore 
the  ducal  coronet  of  Burgundy,  which  he  burned  to  convert 
into  a  royal  and  independent  regal  crown.  The  character 
of  this  duke  was  in  every  respect  the  direct  contrast  to  that 
of  Louis  XI. 

The  latter  was  calm,  deliberate,  and  crafty,  never  prose- 
cuting a  desperate  enterprise,  and  never  abandoning  one 
likely  to  be  successful,  however  distaiit  the  prospect.  The 
genius  of  the  Duke  was  entirely  different.  He  rushed  on 
danger  because  he  loved  it,  and  on  difficulties  because  he 
despised  them.  As  Louis  never  sacrificed  his  interest  to 
his  passion,  so  Charles,  on  the  other  hand,  never  sacrificed 
his  passion,  or  even  his  humor,  to  any  other  consideration. 
Notwithstanding  the  near  relationship  that  existed  between 
them,  and  the  support  which  the  Duke  and  his  father  had 
afforded  to  Lcuis  in  his  exile  when  Dauphin,  there  was  mu- 
tual contempt  and  hatred  betwixt  them.  The  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy despised  the  cautious  policy  of  the  King,  and  imputed 
to  the  faintness  of  his  courage,  that  he  sought  by  leagues, 
purchases,  and  other  indirect  means  those  advantages  which, 
m  his  place  the  Duke  would  have  snatched  with  an  armed 
hand.  He  likewise  hated  the  King,  not  only  for  the  in- 
gratitude he  had  manifested  for  former  kindnesses,  and  for 
personal  injuries  and  imputations  which  the  ambassadors  of 
Louis  had  cast  upon  him  when  his  father  was  yet  alive,  but 
also,  and  especially,  because  of  the  support  which 'he  afforded 
in  secret  to  the  discontented  citizens  of  Ghent,  Liege,  and 
other  great  towns  in  Flanders.  These  turbulent  cities,  jeal- 
ous of  their  privileges  and  proud  of  their  wealth,  were  fre- 
quently in  a  state  of  insurrection  against  their  liege  lords 
the  Dukes  of  Burgundy,  and  never  failed  to  find  underhand 
countenance  at  the  court  of  Louis,  who  embraced  every  op- 
portunity of  fomenting  disturbance  within  the  dominions  of 
his  overgrown  vassal. 

The  contempt  and  hatred  of  the  Duke  were  retaliated  by 
Louis  with  equal  energy,  though  he  used  a  thicker  veil  to  con- 
ceal his  sentiments.  It  was  impossible  for  a  man  of  his  pro- 
found sagacity  not  to  despise  the  stubborn  obstinacy  which 
never  resigned  its  purpose,  however  fatal  perseverance  might 
prove,  and  the  headlong  impetuosity  which  commenced  its 
career  without  allowing  a  mementos  consideration  for  the 
obstacles  to  be  encountered.  Yet  the  King  hated  Charles 
even  more  than  he  contemned  him,  and  his  scorn  and 
hatred  were  the  more  intense  that  they  were  mingled  with 


QUENTIN  DUB  WARD  "» 

fear  ;  for  he  knew  that  the  onset  of  the  mad  bull,  to  whom 
he  likened  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  must  ever  be  formidable 
though  the  animal  makes  it  with  shut  eyes.  It  was  not 
alone  the  wealth  of  the  Burgundian  provinces,  the  discipline 
of  the  warlike  inhabitants,  and  the  mass  of  their  crowded 
population,  which  the  King  dreaded,  for  the  personal 
qualities  of  their  leader  had  also  much  in  them  that  was 
dangerous.  The  very  soul  of  bravery,  which  he  pushed  to 
the  verge  of  rashness,  and  beyond  it,  profuse  in  expenditure, 
splendid  in  his  court,  his  person,  and  his  retinue,  in  all 
which  he  displayed  the  hereditary  magnificence  of  the 
house  of  Burgundy,  Charles  the  Bold  drew  into  his  service 
almost  all  the  fiery  spirits  of  the  age  whose  tempers  were  con- 
genial ;  and  Louis  saw  too  clearly  what  might  be  attempted 
and  executed  by  such  a  train  of  resolute  adventurers,  follow- 
ing a  leader  of  a  character  as  ungovernable  as  their  own. 

There  was  yet  another  circumstance  which  increased  the 
animosity  of  Louis  towards  his  overgrown  vassal :  he  owed 
him  favors  which  he  never  meant  to  repay,  and  was  under 
thev,frequent  necessity  of  temporizing  with  him,  and  even  of 
enduring  bursts  of  petulant  insolence,  injurious  to  the  regal 
dignity,  without  being  able  to  treat  him  otherwise  than  as  his 
"fair  cousin  of  Burgundy." 

It  was  about  the  year  1468,  when  their  feuds  were  at  the 
highest,  though  a  dubious  and  hollow  truce,  as  frequently 
happened,  existed  for  the  time  betwixt  them,  that  the  present 
narrative  opens.  The  person  first  introduced  on  the  stage 
will  be  found  indeed  to  be  of  a  rank  and  condition  the  illus- 
tration of  whose  character  scarcely  called  for  a  dissertation 
on  the  relative  position  of  two  great  princes  ;  but  the  pas- 
sions of  the  great,  their  quarrels,  and  their  reconciliations, 
involve  the  fortunes  of  all  who  approach  them  ;  and  it  will 
be  found,  on  proceeding  farther  in  our  story,  that  this 
preliminary  chapter  is  necessary  for  comprehending  the 
history  of  the  individual  whose  adventures  we  are  about  to 
relate. 


t  i>yi'i'(iii»  mi 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  WANDERER 

Why  then  the  world  is  my  oyster,  which  I  with  sword  will  open. 

Ancient  Pistol 

It  was  upon  a  delicious  summer  morning,  before  the  sun  had 
assumed  its  scorching  power,  and  while  the  dews  yet  cooled 
and  perfumed  the  air,  that  a  youth,  coming  from  the  north- 
eastward, approached  the  ford  of  a  small  river,  or  rather  a 
large  brook,  tributary  to  the  Cher,  near  to  the  royal  Castle 
of  Plessis-les-Tours,  whose  dark  and  multiplied  battlements 
rose  in  the  background  over  the  extensive  forest  with  which 
they  were  surrounded.  These  woodlands  comprised  a  noble 
chase,  or  royal  park,  fenced  by  an  inclosure,  termed,  in  the 
Latin  of  the  middle  ages,,  plexitium,  which  gives  the  name 
of  Plessis  to  so  many  villages  in  France.  The  castle  and 
village  of  which  we  particularly  speak  was  called  Plessis-les- 
Tours,  to  distinguish  it  from  others,  and  was  built  about  two 
miles  to  the  southward  of  the  fair  town  of  that  name,  the 
capital  of  ancient  Tonraine,  whose  rich  plain  has  been  termed 
the  Garden  of  France. 

On  the  bank  of  the  above-mentioned  brook,  opposite  to 
that  which  the  traveler  was  approaching,  two  men,  who  ap- 
peared in  deep  conversation,  seemed,  from  time  to  time,  to 
watch  his  motions  ;  for,  as  their  station  was  much  more 
elevated,  they  could  remark  him  at  considerable  distance. 

The  age  of  the  young  traveler  might  be  about  nineteen,  or 
betwixt  that  and  twenty,  and  his  face  and  person,  which 
were  very  prepossessing,  did  not,  however,  belong  to  the 
country  in  which  he  was  now  a  sojourner.  His  short  gray 
cloak  and  hose  were  rather  of  Flemish  than  of  Frencfi 
fashion,  while  the  smart  blue  bonnet,  with  a  single  sprig  of 
holly  and  an  eagle's  feather,  was  already  recognized  as  the 
Scottish  head-gear.  His  dress  was  very  neat,  and  arranged 
with  the  precision  of  a  youth  conscious  of  possessing  a  fine 
person.  He  had  at  his  back  a  satchel,  which  seemed  to 
contain  a  few  necessaries,  a  hawking  gauntlet  on  his  left 
hand,  though  he  carried  no  bird,  and  in  his  right  a  gtout 


QUENTIN  DUE  WARD  9 

hunter's  pole.  Over  his  left  shoulder  hung  an  embroidered 
scarf  which  sustained  a  small  pouch  of  scarlet  velvet,  such 
as  was  then  used  by  fowlers  of  distinction  to  carry  their 
hawks'  food,  and  other  matters  belonging  to  that  much 
admired  s^ort.  This  was  crossed  by  another  shoulder-belt, 
to  which  was  hung  a  hunting-knife,  or  couteau  de  chasse. 
Instead  of  the  boots  of  the  period,  he  wore  buskins  of  half- 
dressed  deerVskin. 

Although  his  form  had  not  yet  attained  its  full  strength, 
he  was  tall  and  active,  and  the  lightness  of  the  step  with 
which  he  advanced  showed  that  his  pedestrian  mode  of 
traveling  was  pleasure  rather  than  pain  to  him.  His  com^ 
plexion  was  fair,  in  spite  of  a  general  shade  of  darker  hue, 
with  which  the  foreign  sun,  or  perhaps  constant  exposure  to 
the  atmosphere  in  his  own  country,  had  in  some  degree  em- 
browned it. 

His  features,  without  being  quite  regular,  were  frank, 
open,  and  pleasing.  A  half  smile,  which  seemed  to  arise 
from  a  happy  exuberance  of  animal  spirits,  showed,  now  and 
then,  that  his  teeth  were  well  set,  and  as  pure  as  ivory ; 
whilst  his  bright  blue  eye,  with  a  corresponding  gaiety,  had 
an  appropriate  glance  for  every  object  which  it  encountered, 
expressing  good-hnmor,  lightness  of  heart,  and  determined 
resolution. 

He  received  and  returned  the  salutation  of  the  few  travel- 
ers who  frequented  the  road  in  those  dangerous  times  with 
the  action  which  suited  each.  The  strolling  spearman,  half 
soldier,  half  brigand,  measured  the  youth  with  his  eye,  as  if 
balancing  the  prospect  of  booty  with  the  chance  of  des- 
perate resistance  ;  and  read  such  indications  of  the  latter  in 
the  fearless  glance  of  the  passenger,  that  he  charged  his 
ruffian  purpose  for  a  surly  *'  Good  morrow,  comrade,"'  which 
the  young  Scot  answered  with  as  martial,  though  a  less 
sullen,  tone.  The  wandering  pilgrim  or  the  begging  friar 
answered  his  reverend  greeting  with  a  paternal  benedicite  ; 
and  the  dark-eyed  peasant  girl  looked  after  him  for  many  a 
step  after  they  had  passed  each  other,  and  interchanged  a 
laughing  "good  morrow."  In  short,  there  was  an  attrac- 
tion about  his  whole  appearance  not  easily  escaping  atten- 
tion, and  which  was  derived  from  the  combination  of  fear7 
less  frankness  and  good-humor  with  sprightly  looks  and  a 
handsome  face  and  person.  It  seemed,  too,  as  if  his  whole 
demeanor  bespoke  one  who  was  entering  on "  life  with  no 
apprehension  of  the  evils  with  which  it  is  beset,  and  small 
means   for  struggling  with  its  hardships,  except  a  lively 


10  WAVEULEY  NOVELS 

spirit  and  a  courageous  disposition  ;  and  it  is  with  such 
tempers  that  youth  most  readily  sympathizes,  and  for  whom 
chiefly  age  and  experience  feel  affectionate  and  pitying  in- 
terest. 

The  youth  whom  we  have  described  had  been  long  visible 
to  the  two  persons  who  loitered  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
small  river  which  divided  him  from  the  park  and  the 
castle  ;  but  as  he  descended  the  rugged  bank  to  the  water's 
edge,  with  the  light  step  of  a  roe  which  visits  the  fountain, 
the  younger  of  the  two  said  to  the  other,  ^^  It  is  our  man — 
it  is  the  Bohemian  !  If  he  attempts  to  cross  the  ford,  he  is 
a  lost  man :  the  water  is  up,  and  the  ford  impassable/' 

"  Let  him  make  that  discovery  himself,  gossip,^'  said  the 
elder  personage  ;  ''it  may,  perchance,  save  a  rope,  and 
break  a  proverb/' 

"  I  judge  him  by  the  blue  cap,"  said  the  other,  ''for  I 
cannot  see  his  face.  Hark,  sir ;  he  hallooes  to  know 
whether  the  water  be  deep." 

**  Nothing  like  experience  in  this  world,"  answered  the 
other  :  "let  him  try." 

The  young  man,  in  the  mean  while,  receiving  no  hint  to 
the  contrary,  and  taking  the  silence  of  those  to  whom  he 
applied  as  an  encouragement  to  proceed,  entered  the  stream 
without  farther  hesitation  than  the  delay  necessary  to  take 
off  his  buskins.  The  elder  person,  at  the  same  moment, 
hallooed  to  him  to  beware,  adding,  in  a  lower  tone,  to  his 
companion,  "  Mortdieu,  gossip,  you  have  made  another  mis- 
take :  this  is  not  the  Bohemian  chatterer." 

But  the  intimation  to  the  youth  came  too  late.  He  either 
did  not  hear  or  could  not  profit  by  it,  being  already  in  the 
deep  stream.  To  one  less  alert  and  practised  in  the  exer- 
cise of  swimming,  death  had  been  certain,  for  the  brook  was 
both  deep  and  strong. 

"  By  St.  Anne  !  but  he  is  a  proper  youth,"  said  the  elder 
man.  "  Run,  gossip,  and  help  your  blunder  by  giving  him 
aid,  if  thou  canst.  He  belongs  to  thine  own  troop  ;  if  old 
saws  speak  truth,  water  will  not  drown  him." 

Indeed,  the  young  traveler  swam  so  strongly,  and  buf- 
feted the  waves  so  well,  that,  notwithstanding  the  strength 
of  the  current,  he  was  carried  but  a  little  way  down  from 
the  ordinary  landing-place. 

By  this  time  the  younger  of  the  two  strangers  was  hurry- 
ing down  to'  the  shore  to  render  assistance,  while  the  other 
followed  him  at  a  graver  pace,  saying  to  himself  as  he  ap- 
proached, "I  knew  water  would  never  drown  that  young 


qUENTIN  DURWARD  11 

fellow.  By  my  halidome,  he  is  ashore,  and  grasps  his 
pole  !  If  I  make  not  the  more  haste,  he  will  beat  my 
gossip  for  the  only  charitable  action  which  I  ever  saw  him 
perform,  or  attempt  to  perform,  in  the  whole  course  of  his 
fife/' 

There  was  some  reason  to  augur  such  a  conclusion  of  the 
adventure,  for  the  bonny  Scot  had  already  accosted  the 
younger  Samaritan,  who  was  hastening  to  his  assistance,  with 
these  ireful  words — "  Discourteous  dog  !  why  did  you  not 
answer  when  I  called  to  know  if  the  passage  was  fit  to  be  at- 
tempted ?  May  the  foul  fiend  catch  me,  but  I  will  teach  you 
the  respect  due  to  strangers  on  the  next  occasion  !  *' 

This  was  accompanied  with  that  significant  flourish  with  his 
pole  which  is  called  le  mouUnet,  because  the  artist,  holding  it 
in  the  middle,  brandishes  the  two  ends  in  every  direction,  like 
the  sails  of  a  windmill  in  motion.  His  opponent,  seeing  him- 
self thus  menaced,  laid  hand  upon  his  sword,  for  he  was  one 
of  those  who  on  all  occasions  are  more  ready  for  action  than 
for  speech  ;  but  his  more  considerate  comrade,  who  came  up, 
commanded  him  to  forbear,  and,  turning  to  the  young  man, 
accused  him  in  turn  of  precipitation  in  plunging  into  the 
swollen  ford,  and  of  intemperate  violence  in  quarreling  with 
a  man  who  was  hastening  to  his  assistance. 

The  young  man,  on  hearing  himself  thus  reproved  by  a 
man  of  advanced  age  and  respectable  appearance,  immedi- 
ately lowered  his  weapon,  and  said,  ^'  He  would  be  sorry  if  he 
had  done  them  injustice  ;  but,  in  reality,  it  appeared  to  him 
as  if  they  had  suffered  him  to  put  his  life  in  peril  for  want  of 
a  word  of  timely  warning,  which  could  be  the  part  neither  of 
honest  men  nor  of  good  Christians,  far  less  of  respectable  bur- 
gesses, such  as  they  seemed  to  be.''' 

"Fair  son,"  said  the  elder  person,  ''you  seem,  from  your 
accent  and  complexion,  a  stranger  ;  and  you  should  recollect 
your  dialect  is  not  so  easily  comprehended  by  us  as  perhaps  it 
may  be  uttered  by  you.'' 

''  Well,  father,"  answered  the  youth,  "  I  do  not  care  much 
about  the  ducking  I  have  had,  and  I  will  readily  forgive  your 
being  partly  the  cause,  provided  you  will  direct  me  to  some 
place  where  I  can  have  my  clothes  dried  ;  for  it  is  my  only 
suit,  and  I  must  keep  it  somewhat  decent." 

"  For  whom  do  you  take  us,  fair  son  ? "  said  the  elder 
stranger,  in  answer  to  this  question. 

''For  substantial  burgesses,  unquestionably,"  said  the 
youth  ;  "or,  hold — you,  master,  may  be  a  money-broker  or  a 
oom-merchant^  and  this  man  a  butcher  or  grazier/' 


12  WA  VEELET  NO VELS 

''You  have  hit  our  capacities  rarel}^,"  said  the  elder,  smil- 
ing. **  My  business  is  indeed  to  trade  in  as  much  money  as 
I  can ;  and  my  gossip's  dealings  are  somewhat  of  kin  to  the 
butcher's.  As  to  your  accommodation,  we  will  try  to  serve 
you  ;  but  I  must  first  know  who  you  are,  and  whither  you  are 
going ;  for,  in  these  times,  the  roads  are  filled  with  travelers 
on  foot  and  horseback  who  have  anything  in  their  heads  but 
honesty  and  the  fear  of  God.*' 

The  young  man  cast  another  keen  and  penetrating  glance 
on  him  who  spoke,  and  on  his  silent  companion,  as  if  doubt- 
ful whether  they,  on  their  part,  merited  the  confidence  they 
demanded  ;  and  the  result  of  his  observation  was  as  follows: 

The  eldest  and  most  remarkable  of  these  men,  in  dress  and 
appearance,  resembled  the  merchant  or  shopkeeper  of  the 
period.  His  jerkin,  hose,  and  cloak  were  of  a  dark  uniform- 
color,  but  worn  so  threadbare  that  the  acute  young  Scot  con- 
ceived that  the  wearer  must  be  either  very  rich  or  very  poor, 
probably  the  former.  The  fashion  of  the  dress  was  close  and 
short — a  kind  of  garments  which  were  not  then  held  deco- 
rous among  gentry,  or  even  the  superior  class  of  citizens,  who 
generally  wore  loose  gowns  which  descended  below  the  mid- 
dle of  the  leg. 

The  expression  on  this  man's  countenance  was  partly  at- 
tractive and  partly  forbidding.  His  strong  features,  sunken 
cheeks,  and  hollow  eyes  had,  nevertheless,  an  expression  of 
shrewdness  and  humor  congenial  to  the  character  of  the  young 
adventurer.  But  then,  those  same  sunken  eyes,  from  under 
the  shroud  of  thick  black  eyebrows,  had  something  in  them 
that  was  at  once  commanding  and  sinister.  Perhaps  this 
effect  was  increased  by  the  low  fur  cap,  much  depressed  on  the 
forehead,  and  adding  to  the  shade  from  under  which  those 
eyes  peered  out ;  but  it  is  certain  that  the  young  stranger 
had  some  difficulty  to  reconcile  his  looks  with  the  meanness  of 
his  appearance  in  other  respects.  His  cap,  in  particular,  in 
which  all  men  of  any  quality  displayed  either  a  brooch  of  gold 
or  of  silver,  was  ornamented  with  a  paltry  image  of  the 
Virgin,  in  lead,  suchas  the  poorer  sort  of  pilgrims  bring  from 
Loretto. 

His  comrade  was  a  stout-formed,  middle-sized  man,  more 
than  ten  years  younger  than  his  companion,  with  a  down- 
looking  visage  and  a  very  ominous  smile,  when  by  chance  he 
gave  way  to  that  impulse,  which  was  never,  except  in  reply 
to  certain  secret  signs  that  seemed  to  pass  between  him  and 
the  elder  stranger.  This  man  was  armed  with  a  sword  and 
dagger  ;  and,  underneath  his  plain  habit,  the  Scotsman  ob- 


QUENTIN  DUEWARD  13 

served  that  he  concealed  a  jazeran,  or  flexible  shirt  of  linked 
mail,  which,  as  being  often  worn  by  those,  even  of  peaceful 
professions,  who  were  called  upon  at  that  perilous  period  to 
be  frequently  abroad,  confirmed  the  young  man  in  his  con- 
jecture that  the  wearer  was  by  profession  a  butcher,  grazier, 
or  something  of  that  description,  called  upon  to  be  much 
abroad. 

The  young  stranger,  comprehending  in  one  glance  the  re- 
sult of  the  observation  which  has  taken  us  some  time  to  ex- 
press, answered,  after  a  mementos  pause,  ''  I  am  ignorant 
whom  I  may  have  the  honor  to  address,'"*  making  a  slight 
reverence  at  the  same  time  ;  "  but  I  am  indifferent  who 
knows  that  I  am  a  cadet  of  Scotland,  and  that  I  come  to 
seek  my  fortune  in  France,  or  elsewhere,  after  the  custom 
of  my  countrymen." 

'^  Pasques-dieu !  and  a  gallant  custom  it  is,"  said  the 
elder  stranger.  ^'  You  seem  a  fine  young  springald,  and  at 
the  right  age  to  prosper,  whether  among  men  or  women. 
What  say  you  ?  I  am  a  merchant,  and  want  a  lad  to  assist 
in  my  traffic.  I  suppose  you  are  too  much  a  gentleman  to 
assist  in  such  mechanical  drudgery  ?  " 

'^Fair  sir,"  said  the  youth,  '*  if  your  offer  be  seriously 
made,  of  which  I  have  my  doubts,  I  am  bound  to  thank  you 
for  it,  and  I  tharik  you  accordingly  ;  but  I  fear  I  should  be 
altogether  unfit  for  your  service." 

''  What ! "  said  the  senior,  ^'  I  warrant  thou  knowest 
better  how  to  draw  the  bow  than  how  to  draw  a  bill  of 
charges —  canst  handle  a  broadsword  better  than  a  pen— 
ha!" 

.  "  I  am,  master,"  answered  the  young  Scot,  "  a  braeman, 
and  therefore,  as  we  say,  a  bowman.  But  besides  that,  I 
have  been  in  a  convent,  where  the  good  fathers  taught  me  to 
read  and  write,  and  even  to  cipher." 

"  Pasques-dieu  !  that  is  too  magnificent,"  said  the  mer- 
chant. '*By  our  Lady  of  Embrun,  thou  art  a  prodigy, 
man  ! " 

"  Rest  you  merry,  fair  master,"  said  the  youth,  who  was 
not  much  pleased  with  his  new  acquaintance's  jocularity,  *'  I 
must  go  dry  myself,  instead  of  standing  dripping  here,  an- 
swering questions." 

The  merchant  only  laughed  louder  as  he  spoke,  and  an- 
swered, **  Pasques-dieu  !  the  proverb  never  fails— ^er  comme 
un  Ecossois  j  but  come,  youngster,  you  are  of  a  country  I 
have  a  regard  for,  having  traded  in  Scotland  in  my  time — 
an  honest  poor  set  of  folks  they  are  ;  and,  if  you  will  come 


14  WA VERLEY  NO VEL8 

with  us  to  the  village,  I  will  bestow  on  you  a  cup  of  burnt 
Back  and  a  warm  breakfast,  to  atone  for  your  drenching. 
But,  tete-bleau  !  what  do  yoa  with  a  hunting-glove  on  your 
hand  ?  Know  you  not  there  is  no  hawking  permitted  in  a 
royal  chase  ?  " 

''  I  was  taught  that  lesson,''  answered  the  youth,  ''by  a 
rascally  forester  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy.  1  did  but  fly 
the  falcon  I  had  brought  with  me  from  Scotland,  and  that  I 
reckoned  on  for  bringing  me  into  some  note,  at  a  heron  near 
Peronne,  and  the  rascally  schelni  shot  my  bird  ]W^itti,^n 
arrow."  fnioVlv. 

*'  What  did  you  do  ?''  said  the  merchant. 

"  Beat  him,"  said  the  youngster,  brandishing  his  staff, 
"  as  near  to  death  as  one  Christian  man  should  belabor  an- 
other.    I  wanted  not  to  have  his  blood  to  answer  for." 

*'  Know  you,"  said  the  burgess,  ''  that,  had  you  fallen 
into  the  Duke  of  Burgundy's  hands,  he  would  have  hung 
you  up  like  a  chestnut  ?  " 

"  Ay,  I  am  told  he  is  as  prompt  as  the  King  of  France  for 
that  sort  of  work.  But,  as  this  happened  near  Peronne,  I 
made  a  leap  over  the  frontiers,  and  laughed  at  him.  If  he 
had  not  been  so  hasty,  I  might  perhaps  have  taken  service 
with  him." 

"  He  will  have  a  heavy  miss  of  such  a  paladin  as  you  are, 
if  the  truce  should  break  off," said  the  merchant,  and  threw 
a  look  at  his  own  companion,  who  answered  him  with  one  of 
the  downcast  lowering  smiles,  which  gleamed  along  his  coun- 
tenance, enlivening  it  as  a  passing  meteor  enlivens  a  winter 
sky. 

The  young  Scot  suddenly  stopped,  pulled  his  bonnet  oyer 
his  right  eyebrow,  as  one  that  would  not  be  ridiculed,  and 
said  firmly,  ''My  masters,  and  especially  you,  sir,  the  elder, 
and  who  should  be  the  wiser,  you  will  find,  I  presume,  no 
sound  or  safe  jesting  at  my  expense.  I  do  not  altogether 
like  the  tone  of  your  conversation.  I  can  take  a  jest  wirh 
any  man,  and  a  rebuke,  too,  from  my  elder,  and  say 
^  Thank  you,  sir,'  if  I  know  it  to  be  deserved  ;  but  I  do 
not  like  being  borne  in  hand  as  if  I  were  a  child,  when,  God 
wot,  I  find  myself  man  enough  to  belabor  you  both,  if  you 
provoke  me  too  far." 

The  eldest  man  seemed  like  to  choke  with  laughter  at  the 
lad's  demeanor  ;  his  companion's  hand  stole  to  his  sword 
hilt,  which  the  youth  observing  dealt  him  a  blow  across 
the  wrist,  which  made  him  incapable  of  grasping  it ;  while 
hifl  companion's  mirth  was  only  increased  by  the  incident. 


i 


Q  UENTIN  D  UR  WA  RD  15 

*'Hold — hold/'  he  cried,  "most  doughty  Scot,  even  foi 
thme  own  dear  country^s  sake  ;  and  you,  gossip,  forbear 
your  menacing  look.  Pasques-dieu  !  let  us  be  just  traders, 
and  set  off  the  wetting  against  the  knock  on  the  wrist,  which 
was  given  with  so  much  grace  and  alacrity.  And  hark  ye, 
my  young  friend,''  he  said  to  the  young  man  with  a  grave 
sternness  which,  in  spite  of  all  the  youth  could  do,  damped 
and  overawed  him,  "no  more  violence.  I  am  no  fit  object 
for  it,  and  my  gossip,  as  you  may  see,  has  had  enough  of  it. 
Let  me  know  your  name." 

"  I  can  answer  a  civil  question  civilly,"  saia  the  youth  ; 
"  and  will  pay  fitting  respect  to  your  age,  if  you  do  not  urge 
my  patience  with  mockery.  Since  I  have  been  here  in  France 
and  Flanders,  men  have  called  me,  in  their  fantasy,  the 
Varlet  with  the  Velvet  Pouch,  because  of  this  hawk  purse 
which  1  carry  by  my  side ;  but  my  true  name,  when  at  home, 
is  Quentin  Durward." 

"Durward!"  said  the  querist;  "is  it  a  gentleman's 
name  ?  " 

"  By  fifteen  descents  in  our  family,"  said  the  young  man  ; 
"and  that  makes  me  reluctant  to  follow  any  other  trade  than 
arms." 

"A  true  Scot!  Plenty  of  blood,  plenty  of  pride,  and 
right  great  scarcity  of  ducats,  I  warrant  thee.  AVell,  gossip," 
he  said  to  his  companion,  "go  before  us,  and  tell  them  to 
have  some  breakfast  ready  yonder  at  the  Mulberry  Grove  ; 
for  this  youth  will  do  as  much  honor  to  it  as  a  starved  mouse 
to  a  house-wife's  cheese.  And  for  the  Bohemian — hark  in 
thy  ear " 

His  comrade  answered  by  a  gloomy  but  intelligent  smile, 
and  set  forward  at  a  round  pace,  while  the  elder  man  con- 
tinued, addressing  young  Durward — "  You  and  I  will  walk 
leisurely  forward  together,  and  we  may  take  a  mass  at 
St.  Hubert's  chapel  in  our  way  through  the  forest ;  for  it 
is  not  good  to  think  of  our  fleshly  before  our  spiritual 
wants." 

Durward,  as  a  good  Catholic,  had  nothing  to  object  against 
this  proposal,  although  he  might  probably  have  been  desir- 
ous, in  the  first  place,  to  have  dried  his  clothes  and  refreshed 
himself.  Meanwhile,  they  soon  lost  sight  of  their  down- 
ward-looking companion,  but  continued  to  follow  the  same 
path  which  he  had  taken,  until  it  led  them  into  a  wood  of 
tall  trees,  mixed  with  thickets  and  brushwood,  traversed  by 
long  avenues,  through  which  were  seen,  as  through  a  vista, 
the  deer  trotting  in  little  herds  with  a  degree  of  security 


16  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

which  argued  their  consciousness  of  being  completely 
protected. 

"  You  asked  me  if  I  were  a  good  bowman,"  said  the  young 
Scot.  **  Give  me  a  bow  and  a  brace  of  shafts,  and  you  shall 
have  a  piece  of  venison  in  a  moment." 

"  Pasques-dieu  !  my  young  friend,"  said  his  companion, 
'*  take  care  of  that ;  my  gossip  yonder  hath  a  special  eye  to 
the  deer ;  they  are  under  his  charge,  and  he  is  a  strict 
keeper." 

"  He  hath  more  the  air  of  a  butcher  than  of  a  gay  forester," 
answered  Durward.  "  I  cannot  think  yon  hang-dog 
look  of  his  belongs  to  any  one  who  knows  the  gentle  rules  of 
woodcraft." 

"  Ah,  my  young  friend,"  answered  his  companion,  "  my 
gossip  hath  somewhat  an  ugly  favor  to  look  upon  at  the  first ; 
but  those  who  become  acquainted  with  him  never  are  known 
to  complain  of  him." 

Quentin  Durward  found  something  singularly  and  disa- 
greeably significant  in  the  tone  with  which  this  was  spoken  ; 
and,  looking  suddenly  at  the  speaker,  thought  he  saw  in  his 
countenance,  in  the  slight  smile  that  curled  his  upper  lip, 
and  the  accompanying  twinkle  of  his  keen  dark  eye,  some- 
thing to  justify  his  unpleasing  surprise.  **1  have  heard  of 
robbers,"  he  thought  to  himself,  '*  and  of  wily  cheats  and 
cut-throats  ;  what  if  yonder  fellow  be  a  murderer,  and  this 
old  rascal  his  decoy-duck  ?  I  will  be  on  my  guard  ;  they 
will  get  little  by  me  but  good  Scottish  knocks." 

While  he  was  thus  reflecting,  they  came  to  a  glade,  where 
the  large  forest  trees  were  more  widely  separated  from  each 
other,  and  where  the  ground  beneath,  cleared  of  underwood 
and  bushes,  was  clothed  with  a  carpet  of  the  softest  and  most 
lovely  verdure,  which,  screened  from  the  scorching  heat  of 
the  sun,  was  here  more  beautifully  tender  than  it  is  usually 
to  be  seen  in  France.  The  trees  in  this  secluded  spot  were 
chiefly  beeches  and  elms  of  huge  magnitude,  which  rose  like 
great  hills  of  leaves  into  the  air.  Amidst  these  magnificent 
sons  of  the  earth,  there  peeped  out,  in  the  most  open  spot  of  the 
glade,  a  lowly  chapel,  near  which  trickled  a  small  rivulet. 
Its  architecture  was  of  the  rudest  and  most  simple  kind ; 
and  there  was  a  very  small  lodge  beside  it,  for  the  accommo- 
dation of  a  hermit  or  solitary  priest,  who  remained  there 
for  regularly  discharging  the  duty  of  the  altar.  In  a  small 
niche,  over  the  arched  doorway,  stood  a  stone  image  of  St. 
Hubert,*  with  the  bugle  horn  around  his  neck  and  a  leash  of 
♦  See  Note  4. 


Q  UENTIN  D  UR  WA  RD  17 

greyhounds  at  his  feet.  The  situation  of  the  chapel  in  the 
midst  of  a  park  or  chase  so  richly  stocked  with  game  made 
the  dedication  to  the  sainted  huntsman  peculiarly  appropriate. 

Towards  this  little  devotional  structure  the  old  man 
directed  his  steps,  followed  by  young  Durward;  and,  as  they 
approached,  the  priest,  dressed  in  his  sacerdotal  garments, 
made  his  appearance,  in  the  act  of  proceeding  from  his  cell 
to  tlie  chapel,  for  the  discharge,  doubtless,  of  his  holy  office. 
Durward  bowed  his  body  reverently  to  the  priest,  as  the  re- 
spect due  to  his  sacred  office  demanded;  whilst  his  companion, 
with  an  appearance  of  still  more  deep  devotion,  kneeled  on 
one  knee  to  receive  the  holy  man's  blessing,  and  then  followed 
him  into  church,  with  a  step  and  manner  expressive  of  the 
most  heartfelt  contrition  and  humility. 

The  inside  of  the  chapel  was  adorned  in  a  manner  adapted 
to  the  occupation  of  the  patron  saint  while  on  earth.  The 
richest  furs  of  such  animals  as  are  made  the  objects  of  the 
chase  in  different  countries  supplied  the  place  of  tapestry  and 
hangings  around  the  altar  and  elsewhere,  and  the  character- 
istic emblazonments  of  bugles,  bows,  quivers,  and  other-em- 
blems of  hunting,  surrounded  the  walls,  and  were  mingled 
with  the  heads  of  deer,  wolves,  and  other  animals  considered 
beasts  of  sport.  The  whole  adornments  took  an  appropriate 
and  silvan  character  ;  and  the  mass  itself,  being  considerably 
sliortened,  proved  to  be  of  that  sort  which  is  called  a  ''^hunt- 
ing-mass,'' because  in  use  before  the  noble  and  powerful, 
who,  while  assisting  at  the  solemnity,  are  usually  impatient 
to  commence  their  favorite  sport. 

Yet,  during  this  brief  ceremony,  Durward's  companion 
seemed  to  pay  the  most  rigid  and  scrupulous  attention  ;  while 
Durward,  not  quite  so  much  occupied  with  religious  thoughts 
could  not  forbear  blaming  himself  in  his  own  mind  for  hav- 
ing entertained  suspicions  derogatory  to  the  character  of  so 
good  and  so  humble  a  man.  Far  from  now  holding  him  as  a 
companion  and  accomplice  of  robbers,  he  had  much  to  do  to 
forbear  regarding  him  as  a  saint-like  personage. 

When  mass  was  ended,  they  retired  together  from  the 
chapel,  and  the  elder  said  to  his  young  comrade,  '''It  is  but 
a  short  walk  from  hence  to  the  village  ;  you  may  now  break 
your  fast  with  an  unprejudiced  conscience  ;  follow  me." 

Turning  to  the  right,  and  proceeding  along  a  path  which 
seemed  gradually  to  ascend,  he  recommended  to  his  compan- 
ion by  no  means  to  quit  the  track,  but,  on  the  contrary,  to 
keep  the  middle  of  it  as  nearly  as  he  could.  Durward  couIq 
not  help  asking  the  cause  of  this  precaution. 


Id  WA  VERLEt  NO  VELS 

"Yon  are  how  near  the  court,  young  man,"  answered  his 
guide;  *'  and  Basques  dieu  I  there  is  some  difference  betwixt 
walking  in  this  region  and  on  your  own  healthy  hills.  Every 
yard  of  this  ground,  excepting  the  path  which  we  now  occupy, 
isrendereddangerous,  and  well-nigh  impracticable,  by  snares 
and  traps,  armed  with  scythe-blades,  which  shred  off  the  un- 
wary passenger's  limbs  as  sheerly  as  a  hedge-bill  lops  a  haw- 
thorn-sprig, and  calthrops  that  would  pierce  your  foot  through 
and  pitfalls  deep  enough  to  bury  you  in  them  forever;  for 
you  are  now  within  the  precincts  of  the  royal  demesne,  and 
we  shall  presently  see  the  front  of  the  chdteau." 

''  Were  I  the  King  of  France,"  said  the  young  man,  **  1 
would  not  take  so  much  trouble  with  traps  and  gins,  but  would 
try  instead  to  govern  so  well  that  no  man  should  dare  to  come 
near  my  dwelling  with  a  bad  intent ;  and  for  those  who  came 
there  in  peace  and  good-will,  why,  the  more  of  them  the 
merrier  we  should  he." 

His  companion  looked  round  affecting  an  alarmed  gaze,  and 
said,  "  Hush — hush.  Sir  Varlet  with  the  Velvet  Pouch  !  for 
I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  one  great  danger  of  these  precincts 
is  that  the  very  leaves  of  the  trees  are  like  so  many  ears,  which 
carry  all  which  is  spoken  to  the  King's  own  cabinet/' 

"  I  care  little  for  that,'"  answered  Quentin  Durward  ;  ^''  I 
bear  a  Scottish  tongue  in  my  head  bold  enough  to  speak  my 
mind  to  King  Louis's  face,  Grod  bless  him  !  and  for  the  ears 
you  talk  of,  if  I  could  see  them  growing  on  a  human  head,  I 
would  crop  them  out  of  it  with  my  wood-knife. " 


*iO  OHUaO  OlI^  y,lb!'i*; 


CHAPTEE  III 

THE   CASTLE 

Full  in  the  midst  a  mighty  pile  arose, 

Where  iron-grated  gates  their  strength  oppose 

To  each  invading  step,  and,  strong  and  steep. 

The  battled  walls  arose,  the  fosse  sunk  deep. 

Slow  round  the  fortress  rolled  the  sluggish  stream. 

And  high  in  middle  air  the  warder's  turrets  gleam. 

»  Anonymoui,    . 

While  Durward  and  his  new  acquaintance  thus  spoke,  the^/ 
came  in  sight  of  the  whole  fro-nt  of  the  Castle  of  Plessis-les- 
Tours,  which,  even  in  those  dangerous  times,  when  the  great 
found  themselves  obliged  to  reside  within  places  of  fortified 
strength,  was  distinguished  for  the  extreme  and  jealous  care 
with  which  it  was  watched  and  defended. 

From  the  verge  of  the  wood  where  young  Durward  halted 
with  his  companion,  in  order  to  take  a  view  of  this  royal 
residence,  extended,  or  rather  arose,  though  by  a  very  gentle 
elevation,  an  open  esplanade,  devoid  of  trees  and  bushes  of 
every  description,  excepting  one  gigantic  and  half -withered 
old  oak.  This  space  was  left  open,  according  to"  the  rules 
of  fortification  in  all  ages,  in  order  that  an  enemy  might  not 
approach  the  walls  tinder  cover,  or  unobserved  from  the 
battlements  ;  and  beyond  it  arose  the  castle  itself. 

There  were  three  external  walls,  battlemented  and  turreted 
from  space  to  space,  and  at  each  angle,  the  second  inclosure 
rising  higher  than  the  first,  and  being  built  so  as  to  command 
the  exterior  defence  in  case  it  was  won  by  the  enemy  ;  and 
being  again,  in  the  same  manner,  itself  commanded  by  the 
thii-d  and  innermost  barrier.  Around  the  external  wall,  as 
the  Frenchman  informed  his  young  companion  (for,  as  they 
stood  lower  than  the  foundation  of  the  wall,  he  could  not 
see  it),  was  sunk  a  ditch  of  about  twenty  feet  in  depth,  sup- 
plied with  water  by  a  damhead  on  the  river  Cher,  or  rather 
on  one  of  its  tributary  branches.  In  front  of  the  second  in- 
closure, he  said,  there  ran  another  fosse  ;  and  a  third,  both 
of  the  same  unusual  dimensions,  was  led  between  the  second 
and  the  innermost  inclosure.     The  verge,  both  of  the  outer 

10 


20  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

« 
and  inner  circuit  of  this  triple  moat,  was  strongly  fenced 
with  palisades  of  iron,  serving  the  purpose  of  what  are  called 
chevaux-de-frise  in  modern  fortification,  the  top  of  each  pale 
being  divided  into  a  cluster  of  sharp  spikes,  which  seemed  to 
render  any  attempt  to  climb  over  an  act  of  self-destruc- 
tion. 

From  within  the  innermost  enclosure  arose  the  castle  itself, 
containing  buildings  of  different  periods,  crowded  around 
and  united  with  the  ancient  and  grim-looking  donjon-keep, 
which  was  older  than  any  of  them,  and  which  rose,  like  a 
black  Ethiopian  giant  high  into  the  air,  while  the  absence 
of  any  windows  larger  than  shot-holes,  irregularly  disposed 
for  defence,  gave  the  spectator  the  same  unpleasant  feeling 
which  we  experience  on  looking  at  a  blind  man.  The  other 
buildings  seemed  scarcely  better  adapted  for  \he  purposes  of 
comfort,  for  the  windows  opened  to  an  inner  and  inclosed 
courtyard  ;  so  that  the  whole  external  front  looked  much 
more  like  that  of  a  prison  than  a  palace.  The  reigning  king 
had  even  increased  this  effect ;  for,  desirous  that  the  additions 
which  he  himself  had  made  to  the  fortifications  should  be  of 
a  character  not  easily  distinguished  from  the  original  build- 
ing (for,  like  many  jealous  persons,  he  loved  not  that  his 
suspicions  should  be  observed),  the  darkest-colored  brick 
and  freestone  were  employed,  and  soot  mingled  with  the 
lime,  so  as  to  give  the  whole  castle  the  same  uniform  tinge 
of  extreme  and  rude  antiquity. 

This  formidable  place  had  but  one  entrance,  at  least  Dur- 
ward  saw  none  along  the  spacious  front  except  where,  in  the 
center  of  the  first  and  outward  boundary,  arose  two  strong 
towers,  the  usual  defences  of  a  gateway ;  and  he  could  ob 
serve  their  ordinary  accompaniments,  portcullis  and  draw- 
bridge, of  which  the  first  was  lowered  and  the  last  raised. 
Similar  entrance-towers  were  visible  on  the  second  and  third 
bounding  wall,  but  not  in  the  same  line  with  those  on  the 
outward  circuit ;  because  the  passage  did  not  cut  right 
through  the  whole  three  inclosures  at  the  same  point,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  those  who  entered  had  to  proceed  nearly 
thirty  yards  betwixt  the  first  and  second  wall,  exposed,  if 
their  purpose  were  hostile,  to  missiles  from  both  ;  and  again, 
when  the  second  boundary  was  passed,  they  must  make  a 
similar  digression  from  the  straight  line,  in  order  to  attain 
the  portal  of  the  third  and  innermost  inclosure  ;  so  that  be- 
fore gaining  the  outer  court,  which  ran  along  the  front  of 
the  building,  two  narrow  and  dangerous  defiles  were  to  be 
traversed  under  a  flanking  discharge  of  artillery,  and  three 


qUENTIN  DURWARD  S] 

gates,  defended  in  the  strongest  manner  known  to  the  age, 
were  to  be  successively  forced. 

Coming  from  a  country  alike  desolated  by  foreign  war  and 
internal  feuds — a  country,  too,  whose  unequal  and  moun- 
tainous surface,  abounding  in  precipices  and  torrents,  affords 
so  many  situations  of  strength — young  Durward  was  suf- 
ficiently acquainted  with  all  the  various  contrivances  by 
which  men,  in  that  stern  age,  endeavored  to  secure  their 
dwellings  ;  but  he  frankly  owned  to  his  companion  that  he 
did  not  think  it  had  been  in  the  power  of  art  to  do  so  much 
for  defense,  where  nature  had  done  so  little  ;  for  the  situa- 
tion, as  we  have  hinted  was  merely  the  summit  of  a  gentle 
elevation  ascending  upwards  from  the  place  where  they  were 
standing. 

To  enhance  his  surprise,  his  companion  told  him  that  the 
environs  of  the  castle,  except  the  single  winding  path  by 
which  the  portal  might  be  safely  approached,  were,  like  the 
thickets  through  which  they  had  passed,  surrounded  with 
every  species  of  hidden  pitfall,  snare,  and  gin,  to  entrap 
the  wretch  who  should  venture  thither  without  a  guide ; 
that  upon  the  walls  were  constructed  certain  cradles  of  iron, 
called  ^*  swallows,  nests,'^  from  which  the  sentinels  who  were 
regularly  posted  there  could,  without  being  exposed  to  any 
risk,  take  deliberate  aim  at  any  who  should  attempt  to  enter 
without  the  proper  signal  or  password  of  the  day  ;  and  that 
the  archers  of  the  Royal  Guard  performed  that  duty  day  and 
night,  for  which  they  received  high  pay,  rich  clothing,  and 
much  honor  and  profit  at  the  hands  of  King  Louis.  "  And 
now  tell  me,  young  man,''  he  continued,  *^  did  you  ever  see 
so  strong  a  fortress,  and  do  you  think  there  are  men  bold 
enough  to  storm  it  ?  '* 

The  young  man  looked  long  and  fixedly  on  the  place,  the 
sight  of  which  interested  him  so  much  that  he  had  forgot- 
ten, in  the  eagerness  of  youthful  curiosity,  the  wetness  of 
his  dress.  His  eye  glanced,  and  his  color  mounted  to  his 
cheek  like  that  of  a  daring  man  who  meditates  an  honorable 
action,  as  he  replied,  *'  It  is  a  strong  castle,  and  strongly 
guarded  ;  but  there  is  no  impossibility  to  brave  men.'' 

"Are  there  any  in  your  country  w^ho  could  do  such  a 
feat  ?"  said  the  elder,  rather  scornfully. 

**  I  will  not  affirm  that,'*  answered  the  youth  ;  "  but  there 
are  thousands  that,  in  a  good  cause,  would  attempt  as  bold 
a  deed.*^ 

"Umph!"  said  the  senior,  *^  perhaps  you  are  yourseH 
such  a  gallant  ?" 


a  WAVERLET  N0VEL8 

"I  should  sin  if  I  were  to  boast  whe^e  hhereis  no  danger/ 
answered  young  Durward  ;  ^'  but  my  father  has  done  as  bold 
an  act,  and  I  trust  I  am  no  bastard/' 

**  Well,"  said  his  companion,  smiling,  **you  might  meet 
your  match,  and  your  kindred  withal,  in  the  attempt  ;  for 
the  Scottish  Archers  of  King  Louis's  Life  Guards  stand 
fientinels  on  yonder  walls — three  hundred  gentlemen  of  the 
best  blood  in  your  country/-' 

"  And  were  I  King  Louis,"  said  the  youth,  in  reply,  *'l 
would  trust  my  safety  to  the  faith  of  the  three  hundred 
Scottish  gentlemen,  throw  down  my  bounding  walls  to  fill 
up  the  moat,  call  in  my  noble  peers  and  paladins,  and  live  as 
became  me,  amid  breaking  of  lances  in  gallant  tournaments, 
and  feasting  of  days  with  nobles  and  dancing  of  nights  with 
ladies,  and  have  no  more  fear  of  a  foe  than  I  have  of  a  fly." 

His  companion  again  smiled,  and  turning  his  back  on  the 
castle,  which,  he  observed,  they  had  approached  a  little  too 
nearly,  he  led  the  way  again  into  the  wood,  by  a  more 
broad  and  beaten  path  than  they  had  yet  trodden.  "  This,'* 
he  said,  ^Heads  us  to  the  village  of  Plessis,  as  it  is  called, 
where  you,  as  a  stranger,  will  find  reasonable  and  honest  ac- 
commodation. About  two  miles  onward  lies  the  fine  city  of 
Tours,  which  gives  name  to  this  rich  and  beautiful  earldom. 
But  the  village  of  Plessis,  or  Plessis  of  the  Park,  as  it  is 
sometimes  called,  from  its  vicinity  to  the  royal  residence, 
and  the  chase  with  which  it  is  encircled,  will  yield  you  nearer, 
and  as  convenient,  hospitality." 

*'  I  thank  you,  kind  master,  for  your  information,"  said 
the  Scot ;  **  but  my  stay  will  be  so  short  here  that,  if  I  fail 
not  in  a  morsel  of  meat  and  a  drink  of  something  better  than 
water,  my  necessities  in  Plessis,  be  it  of  the  park  or  the  pool, 
will  be  amply  satisfied." 

"Nay,"  answered  his  companion,  *'l  thought  you  had 
some  friend  to  see  in  this  quarter." 

'*  And  so  I  have — my  mother's  own  brother,"  answered 
Durward  ;  "  and  as  pretty  a  man,  before  he  left  the  braes  of 
Angus,  as  ever  planted  brogue  on  heather." 

**  What  is  his  name  ?  "  said  the  senior.  "  We  will  inquire 
him  out  for  you  ;  for  it  is  not  safe  for  you  to  go  up  to  the 
castle,  where  you  might  be  taken  for  a  spy." 

'*  Now,  by  my  father's  hand  !  "  said  the  youth, ''  I  taken 
for  a  spy  !  By  Heaven,  he  shall  brook  cold  iron  that  brands 
me  with  such  a  charge  !  But  for  my  uncle's  name,  I  care 
not  who  knows  it — it  is  Lesly^ — Lesly,  an  honest  and  noble 
&ame  I " 


QUENTIN  DURWAUD  23 

"And so  it  is,  I  doubt  not/' said  the  old  man  ;  "but  there 
are  three  of  the  name  in  the  Scottish  Guard." 

*^  My  uncle^s  name  is  Ludovic  Lesly/'  said  the  young  man. 

**  Of  the  three  Leslies/'  answered  the  merchant,  "  two 
are  called  Ludovic/' 

*'They  call  my  kinsman  Ludovic  with  the  Scar/'  said 
Quentin.  ^^  Our  family  names  are  so  common  in  a  Scottish 
house,  that,  where  there  is  no  land  in  the  case,  we  always 
give  a  '  to-name/  " 

*^  A  nom  de  guerre^  I  suppose  you  to  mean,"  answered  his 
companion  ;  **  and  the  man  you  speak  of,  we,  I  think,  call 
Le  Balafrey  from  that  scar  on  his  face — a  proper  man  and  a 
good  soldier.  I  wish  I  may  be  able  to  help  you  to  an  inter- 
view with  him,  for  he  belongs  to  a  set  of  gentlemen  whose 
duty  is  strict,  and  who  do  not  often  come  out  of  garrison, 
unless  in  the  immediate  attendance  on  the  King's  person. 
And  now,  young  man,  answer  me  one  question.  I  will 
wager  you  are  desirous  to  take  service  with  your  uncle  in 
the  Scottish  Guard.  It  is  a  greac  thing,  if  you  propose  so  ; 
especially  as  you  are  very  young,  and  some  years'  experience 
is  necessary  for  the  high  office  which  you  aim  at." 

^'  Perhaps  I  may  have  thought  on  some  such  thing,"  said 
Durward,  carelessly  ;  *'but  if  I  did,  the  fancy  is  off." 

**How  so,  young  man  ?"  said  the  Frencliman,  something 
sternly.  *'  Do  you  speak  thus  of  a  charge  which  the  most 
noble  of  your  countrymen  feel  themselves  emulous  to  be 
admitted  to  ?" 

*'I  wish  them  joy  of  it,"  said  Quentin,  composedly. 
**  To  speak  plain,  I  should  have  liked  the  service  of  the 
French  king  full  well,  only,  dress  me  as  fine  and  feed  me 
as  high  as  you  will,  I  love  the  open  air  better  than  being 
shut  up  in  a  cage  or  a  swallow's  nest  yonder,  as  you  call 
these  same  grated  pepper-boxes.  Besides,"  he  added,  in  a 
lower  voice,  ''  to  speak  truth,  I  love  not  the  castle  when  the 
covin- tree*  bears  such  acorns  as  I  see  yonder." 

*'  I  guess  what  you  mean,"  said  the  Frenchman ;  **  but 
speak  yet  more  plainly." 

"To  speak  more  plainly,  then,"  said  the  youth,  *' there 
grows  a  fair  oak  some  flight-shot  or  so  from  yonder  castle  ; 
and  on  that  oak  hangs  a  man  in  a  gray  jerkin,  such  as  this 
which  I  wear." 

*'  Ay  and  indeed  !  "  said  the  man  of  France.  ''  Pasques- 
dieu  !  see  what  it  is  to  have  youthful  eyes  !  Why,  I  did  see 
something,  but  only  took  it  for  a  raven  among  the  branches. 

♦SeeNoteS. 


24  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

But  the  sight  is  no  way  strange,  young  man ;  when  the 
summer  fades  into  autumn,  and  moonlight  nights  are  long, 
and  roads  become  unsafe,  you  will  see  a  cluster  of  ten,  ay, 
of  twenty  such  acorns,  hanging  on  that  old  doddered  oak. 
But  what  then  ?  they  are  so  many  banners  displayed  to  scare 
knaves  ;  and  for  each  rogue  that  hangs  there,  an  honest  man 
may  reckon  that  there  is  a  thief,  a  traitor,  a  robber  on  the 
highway,  a  pilleur  and  oppressor  of  the  people,  the  fewer 
in  France.  These,  young  man,  are  signs  of  our  sovereign's 
justice.'^ 

*'  I  would  have  hung  them  farther  from  my  palace,  though, 
were  I  King  Louis,''  said  the  youth.  *'  In  my  country,  we 
hang  up  dead  corbies  where  living  corbies  haunt,  but  not  in 
our  gardens  or  pigeon-houses.  The  very  scent  of  the  carrion 
— faugh — reached  my  nostrils  at  the  distance  where  we 
stood." 

'*  If  you  live  to  be  an  honest  and  loyal  servant  of  your 
prince,  my  good  youth,"  answered  the  Frenchman,  **  you 
will  know  there  is  no  perfume  to  match  the  scent  of  a 
dead  tr:  itor." 

*'  I  shall  never  wish  to  live  till  I  lose  the  scent  of  my 
nostrils  or  the  sight  of  my  eyes,"  said  the  Scot.  ^'  Show  me 
a  living  traitor,  and  here  are  my  hand  and  my  weapon  ;  but 
when  life  is  out,  hatred  should  not  live  longer.  But  here,  1 
fancy,  we  come  upon  the  village  ;  where  I  hope  to  show  you 
that  neither  ducking  nor  disgust  have  spoiled  mine  appetite 
for  my  breakfast.  So,  my  good  friend,  to  the  hostelry,  with 
all  the  speed  you  may.  Yet,  ere  I  accept  of  your  hospitality, 
let  me  know  by  what  name  to  call  you. " 

*' Men  call  me  Mai tre  Pierre,"  answered  his  companion. 
*'  I  deal  in  no  titles.  A  plain  man,  that  can  live  on  mine 
own  good — that  is  my  designation." 

'^So  be  it,  Maitre  Pierre,"  said  Quentin,  *'and  I  am  happy 
my  good  chance  has  thrown  us  together  ;  for  I  want  a  word 
of  seasonable  advice,  and  can  be  thankful  for  it." 

While  they  spoke  thus,  the  tower  of  the  church  and  a  tall 
wooden  crucifix,  rising  above  the  trees,  showed  that  the}? 
were  at  the  entrance  of  the  village. 

But  Maitre  Pierre,  deflecting  a  little  from  the  road,  which 
had  now  joined  an  open  and  public  causeway,  said  to  hia 
companion,  that  the  inn  to  which  he  intended  to  introduce 
xiim  stood  somewhat  secluded,  and  received  only  the  better 
sort  of  travelers. 

*'If  you  mean  those  -who  travel  with  the  better-filled 
purses,    answered  the  Scot,  "  I  am  none  of  the  number,  and 


qUENTIN  DUB  WARD  25 

will  rather  stand  my  chance  of  your  flayers  on  the  highway 
than  of  your  flayers  in  the  hostelry  ! " 

^^  Fasques-dieu!"  said  his  guide,  *'how  cautious  your 
countrymen  of  Scotland  are  !  An  Englishman,  now,  throws 
himself  headlong  into  a  tavern,  eats  and  drinks  of  the  best, 
and  never  thinks  of  the  reckoning  till  his  belly  is  full.  But 
you  forget,  Master  Quentin,  since  Quentin  is  your  name — 
you  forget  I  owe  you  a  breakfast  for  the  wetting  which  my 
mistake  procured  you.  It  is  the  penance  of  my  offense 
towards  you.^' 

*'In  truth,"  said  the  light-hearted  young  man,  "I  had 
forgot  wetting,  offense,  and  penance,  and  all.  I  have 
walked  m}^  clothes  dry,  or  nearly  so ;  but  I  will  not  refuse 
your  offer  in  kindness,  for  my  dinner  yesterday  was  a  light 
one,  and  supper  I  had  none.  You  seem  an  old  and  respectable 
burgess,  and  I  see  no  reason  why  I  should  not  accept  your 
courtesy." 

The  Frenchman  smiled  aside,  for  he  saw  plainly  that  the 
youth,  while  he  was  probably  half  famished,  had  yet  some 
difficulty  to  reconcile  himself  to  the  thoughts  of  feeding  at  a 
stranger's  cost,  and  was  endeavoring  to  subdue  his  inward 
pride  by  the  reflection  that,  in  such  slight  obligations,  the 
acceptor  performed  as  complacent  a  part  as  he  by  whom  the 
courtesy  was  offered. 

In  the  meanwhile,  they  descended  a  narrow  lane,  over- 
shadowed by  tall  elms,  at  the  bottom  of  which  a  gateway 
admitted  them  into  the  courtyard  of  an  inn  of  unusual  magni- 
tude, calculated  for  the  accommodation  of  the  nobles  and 
suitors  who  had  business  at  the  neighboring  castle,  where 
very  seldom,  and  only  when  such  hospitality  was  altogether 
unavoidable,  did  Louis  XL  permit  any  of  his  court  to  have 
apartments.  A  scutcheon,  bearing  the  jleur-de-lys,  hung 
over  the  principal  door  of  the  large  irregular  building  ;  but 
there  was  about  the  yard  and  the  offices  little  or  none  of  the 
bustle  which  in  those  days,  when  attendants  were  maintained 
both  in  public  and  in  private  houses,  marked  that  business 
was  alive  and  custom  plenty.  It  seemed  as  if  the  stern  and 
unsocial  character  of  the  royal  mansion  in  the  neighborhood 
had  communicated  a  portion  of  its  solemn  and  terrific  gloom 
even  to  a  place  designed,  according  to  universal  custom  else- 
where, for  the  temple  of  social  indulgence,  merry  society, 
and  good  cheer. 

Maitre  Pierre,  without  calling  any  one,  and  even  without 
approaching  the  principal  entrance,  lifted  the  latch  of  a  side 
door,  and  led  the  way  into  a  large  ^'oom,  where  a  fagot  wai 


26  WA  VERLET  NO  VEL8 

blazing  on  the  hearth,  and  arrangements  made  for  a  snbstan. 
tial  breakfast. 

"  My  gossip  has  been  careful,"  said  the  Frenchman  to  the 
Scot.  **  You  must  be  cold,  and  I  have  commanded  a  fire  ; 
you  must  be  hungry,  and  you  shall  have  breakfast  presently." 

He  whistled,  and  the  landlord  entered  ;  answered  Maitre 
Pierre^s  ^^ ton  jour*'  yfith.  a  reverence;  but  in  no  respect 
showed  any  part  of  the  prating  humor  properly  belongius: 
to  a  French  publican  of  all  ages. 

**  I  expected  a  gentleman,"  said  Maitre  Pierre,  '*  to  order 
breakfast.     Hath  he  done  so  ?  " 

In  answer,  the  landlord  only  bowed  ;  and  while  he  con- 
tinued to  bring,  and  arrange  upon  the  table,  the  various 
articles  of  a  comfortable  meal,  omitted  to  extol  their  merits 
by  a  single  word.  And  yet  the  breakfast  merited  such  eulo- 
giums  as  French  hosts  are  wont  to  confer  upon  their  regales, 
as  the  reader  will  be  informed  in  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE    DEJEUKEB 

Sacred  heaven  I  what  masticators  I  what  bread  I 

Yorick^s  Travels, 

We  left  our  young  stranger  in  France  situated  more  com- 
fortably than  he  had  found  himself  since  entering  the  terri- 
tories of  the  ancient  Gauls.  The  breakfast,  as  we  hinted  in 
the  conclusion  of  the  last  chapter,  was  admirable.  There 
was  SkpdtSde  Ferigord,  over  which  a  gastronome  would  have 
wished  to  live  and  die,  like  Homer^s  lotus-eaters,  forgetful  of 
kin,  native  country,  and  all  social  obligations  whatever.  Its 
vast  walls  of  magnificent  crust  seemed  raised  like  the  bul- 
warks of  some  rich  metropolitan  city,  an  emblem  of  the 
wealth  which  they  are  designed  to  protect.  There  was  a 
delicate  ragout,  with  just  that  petite  pointe  de  Vail  which 
Gascons  love  and  Scottishmen  do  not  hate.  There  was,  be- 
sides, a  delicate  ham,  which  had  once  supported  a  noble 
wild  boar  in  the  neighboring  wood  of  Mountrichart.  There 
was  the  most  exquisite  white  bread  made  into  little  round 
loaves  called  houlez  (whence  the  bakers  took  their  French 
name  of  houlangers),  of  which  the  crust  was  so  inviting  that, 
even  with  water  alone,  it  would  have  been  a  delicacy.  But 
the  water  was  not  alone,  for  there  was  a  flask  of  leather 
called  hottrinej  which  contained  about  a  quart  of  exquisite 
vin  de  Beaulne.  So  many  good  things  might  have  created 
appetite  under  the  ribs  of  death.  What  effect,  then,  must 
they  have  produced  upon  a  youngster  of  scarce  twenty,  who 
(for  the  truth  must  be  told)  had  eaten  little  for  the  two  last 
days,  save  the  scarcely  ripe  fruit  which  chance  afforded  him 
an  opportunity  of  plucking,  and  a  very  moderate  portion  of 
barley-bread  ?  He  threw  himself  upon  the  ragout^  and  the 
plate  was  presently  vacant ;  he  attacked  the  mighty  pasty, 
marched  deep  into  the  bowels  of  the  land,  and,  seasoning 
his  enormous  meal  with  an  occasional  cup  of  wine,  returned 
to  the  charge  again  and  again,  to  the  astonishment  of  mine 
host  and  the  amusement  of  Maitre  Pierre. 
The  latter,  indeed,  probably  becauao  he  found  himself  the 

27 


^  Wav:S:rleT  NOVELS 

author  of  a  kinder  action  than  he  had  thought  of,  seemed 
delighted  with  the  appetite  of  the  young  Scot ;  and  when, 
at  length,  he  observed  that  his  exertions  began  to  languish, 
endeavored  to  stimulate  him  to  new  efforts,  by  ordering  con- 
fections, darioles,  and  any  other  light  dainties  he  could 
t..aink  of,  to  entice  the  youth  to  continue  his  meal.  While 
fchus  engaged,  Maitre  Pierre's  countenance  expressed  a  kind 
of  good-humor  almost  amounting  to  benevolence,  which 
appeared  remote  from  its  ordinary  sharp,  caustic,  and  severe 
character.  The  aged  almost  always  sympathize  with  t!ie  en- 
joyments of  youth,  and  with  its  exertions  of  every  kind, 
when  the  mind  of  the  spectator  rests  on  its  natural  poise, 
and  is  not  disturbed  by  inward  envy  or  idle  emulation. 

Qaentin  Durward  also,  while  thus  agreeably  employed, 
could  do  no  otherwise  than  discover  that  the  countenance  of 
his  entertainer,  which  he  had  at  first  found  so  unprepossess- 
ing, mended  when  it  was  seen  under  the  influence  of  the  vin 
de  Beaulne,  and  there  was  kindness  in  the  tone  with  which 
he  reproached  Maitre  Pierre,  that  he  amused  himself  with 
laughing  at  his  appetite,  wi*^^hout  eating  any  thing  himself . 

**  I  am  doing  penance, '^  said  Maitre  Pierre,  "  and  may  not 
eat  anything  before  noon,  save  some  comfiture  and  a  cup  of 
water.  Bid  yonder  lady,"  he  added,  turning  to  the  inn- 
keeper, ''bring  them  hither  to  me." 

The  innkeeper  left  the  room,  and  Maitre  Pierre  proceed- 
ed— "  Well  have  I  kept  faith  with  you  concerning  the 
breakfast  I  promised  you  ?" 

''The  best  meal  I  have  eaten,"  said  the  youth,  ''since  I 
left  Glen  Houlakin." 

"Glen — what?"  demanded  Maitre  Pierre;  ''are  you 
going  to  raise  the  devil,  that  you  use  such  long-tailed 
words?" 

"  Glen  Houlakin,"  answered  Quentin,  good-humoredly, 
*'  which  is  to  say  the  Glen  of  the  Midges,  is  the  name  of  our 
ancient  patrimony,  my  good  sir.  You  have  bought  the 
right  to  laugh  at  the  sound,  if  you  please." 

"  I  have  not  the  least  intention  to  offend,"  said  the  old 
man  ;  "  but  I  was  about  to  say,  since  you  like  your  present 
meal  so  well,  that  the  Scottish  Archers  of  the  Guard  eat  as 
good  a  one,  or  a  better,  every  day." 

"  No  wonder,"  said  Durward,  "  for  if  they  be  shut  up  in 
the  swallows'  nests  all  night,  they  must  needs  have  a  curious 
appetite  in  the  morning." 

"  And  plenty  to  gratify  it  upon,"  said  Maitre  Pierre. 
**  They  need  not,  like  the  Burgundians,  choose  a  bare  back. 


qUENTIN  DUB  WARD  29 

that  they  may  have  a  full  belly  :  they  dress  like  counts,  and 
feast  like  abbots." 

^^  It  is  well  for  them/'  said  Durward. 

"  And  wherefore  will  you  not  take  service  here,  young 
man  ?  Your  uncle  might,  I  daresay,  have  you  placed  on 
the  file  when  there  should  a  vacancy  occur.  And,  hark  in 
your  ear,  I  myself  have  some  little  interest,  and  might  be  of 
some  use  to  you.  You  can  ride,  I  presume,  as  well  as  draw 
the  bow  ?  " 

"  Our  race  are  as  good  horsemen  as  ever  put  a  plated  shoe 
into  a  steel  stirrup  ;  and  I  know  not  but  I  might  accept  of 
your  kind  oiler.  Yet,  look  you,  food  and  raiment  are  need- 
ful things,  but,  in  my  case,  men  think  of  honor,  and  advance- 
ment, and  brave  deeds  of  arms.  Your  King  Louis — God 
bless  him  !  for  he  is  a  friend  and  ally  of  Scotland — but  he 
lies  here  in  this  castle,  or  only  rides  about  from  one  fortified 
town  to  another  ;  and  gains  cities  and  provinces  by  politic 
embassies,  and  not  in  fair  fighting.  Now,  for  me,  I  am  of 
the  Douglasses*  mind,  who  always  kept  the  fields,  because 
they  loved  better  to  hear  the  lark  sing  than  the  mouse 
squeak." 

*'  Young  man,"  said  Maitre  Pierre,  ''  do  not  judge  too 
rashly  of  the  actions  of  sovereigns.  Louis  seeks  to  spare  the 
blood  of  his  subjects,  and  cares  not  for  his  own.  He  showed 
himself  a  man  of  courage  at  Montl'hery." 

*'  Ay,  but  that  was  some  dozen  years  ago  or  more,"  an- 
swered the  youth.  ^'  I  should  like  to  follow  a  master  that 
would  keep  his  honor  as  bright  as  his  shield,  and  always 
venture  foremost  in  the  very  throng  of  the  battle." 

*'  Why  did  you  not  tarry  at  Brussels,  then,"  said  Maitre 
Pierre,  ''  with  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  ?  He  would  put  you 
in  the  way  to  have  your  bones  broken  every  day  ;  and  rather 
than  fail,  would  do  the  job  for  you  himself,  especially  if  he 
heard  that  you  had  beaten  his  forester." 

"Very  true,"  said  Quentin  ;  "my  unhappy  chance  has 
shut  that  door  againc^t  me." 

"  Nay,  there  are  plenty  of  dare-devils  abroad,  with  whom 
mad  youngsters  may  find  service,"  said  his  adviser.  "  What 
think  you,  for  example,  of  William  de  la  Marck  ?  " 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  Durward,  "  serve  Him  with  the 
Beard — serve  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes — a  captain  of  pil- 
lagers and  murderers,  who  would  take  a  man's  life  for  the 
value  of  his  gaberdine,  and  who  slays  priests  and  pilgrims 
as  if  they  were  so  many  lance-knights  and  men-at-arms  ?  It 
would  be  a  blot  on  my  father's  scutcheon  forever." 


80  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

''Well,  my  young  hot-blood/' replied  Maltre  Pierre,  "  ii 
you  hold  the  Sanglier  too  unscrupulous,  wherefore  not  follow 
the  young  Duke  of  Gueldres  ?  *'  * 

'*  Follow  the  foul  fiend  as  soon/'  said  Quentin.  *' Hark 
in  your  ear — he  is  a  burden  too  heavy  for  earth  to  carry  :  hell 
gapes  for  him.  Men  say  that  he  keeps  his  own  father  im- 
prisoned, and  that  he  has  even  struck  him.  Can  you  believe 
it?''^ 

Maitre  Pierre  seemed  somewhat  disconcerted  with  the 
naive  horror  with  which  the  young  Scotsman  spoke  of  filial 
ingratitude,  and  he  answered,  "  You  know  not,  young  man, 
how  short  a  while  the  relationsof  blood  subsist  amongst  those 
of  elevated  rank  "  ;  then  changed  the  tone  of  feeling  in  which 
he  had  begun  to  speak,  and  added,  gaily,  ^'  Besides,  if  the 
duke  has  beaten  his  father,  I  warrant  you  his  father  hath 
beaten  him  of  old,  so  it  is  but  a  clearing  of  scores/' 

**  I  marvel  to  hear  you  speak  thus,"  said  the  Scot,  coloring 
with  indignation  ;  '*•  gray  hairs  such  as  yours  ought  to  have 
fitter  subjects  for  jesting.  If  the  old  duke  did  beat  his  son 
in  childhood,  he  beat  him  not  enough  ;  for  better  he  had 
died  under  the  rod  than  have  lived  to  make  the  Christian 
world  ashamed  that  such  a  monster  had  ever  been  baptized. " 

'^  At  this  rate,''  said  Maitre  Pierre,  ''  as  you  weigh  the 
characters  of  each  prince  and  leader,  I  think  you  had  better 
become  a  captain  yourself ;  for  where  will  one  so  wise  find  a 
chieftain  fit  to  command  him  ?" 

"  You  laugh  at  me,  Maitre  Pierre,"  said  the  youth,  good- 
humoredly,  *'  and  perhaps  you  are  right ;  but  you  have  not 
named  a  man  who  is  a  gallant  leader,  and  keeps  a  brave 
party  up  here,  under  whom  a  man  might  seek  service  well 
enough." 

''  I  cannot  guess  whom  you  mean." 

*'  Why,  he  that  hangs  like  Mahomet's  coffin — a  curse  be 
upon  Mahomet ! — between  the  two  loadstones  ;  he  that  no 
man  can  call  either  French  or  Burgundian,  but  who  knows 
to  hold  the  balance  between  them  both,  and  makes  both  of 
them  fear  and  serve  him,  for  as  great  princes  as  they  be." 

"  I  cannot  guess  whom  you  mean,"  said  Maitre  Pierre, 
thoughtfully. 

"Why,  whom  should  I  mean  but  the  noble  Louis  de  Lux- 
embourg, Count  of  St.  Paul,  the  High  Constable  of 
France  r  f  Yonder  he  makes  his  place  good,  with  his  gal- 
lant little  army,  holding  his  head  as  high  as  either  King 

♦SeeNote6.  t  SeeNote  7. 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  81 

Louis  or  Duke  Charles,  and  balancing  between  them,  like 
the  boy  who  stands  on  the  midst  of  a  plank,  while  two  others 
are  swinging  on  the  opposite  ends.*' 

"  He  is  in  danger  of  the  worst  fall  of  the  three,''  said 
Maitre  Pierre.  ^*  And  hark  ye,  my  young  friend,  you  who 
hold  pillaging  such  a  crime,  do  you  know  that  your  politic 
Count  of  St.  Paul  was  the  first  who  set  the  example  of  burn- 
ing the  country  during  the  time  of  war,  and  that,  before 
the  shameful  devastation  which  he  committed,  open  towns 
and  villages,  which  made  no  resistance,  were  spared  on  all 
sides?" 

"  Nay,  faith,"  said  Durward,  "  if  that  be  the  case,  I  shall 
be^in  to  think  no  one  of  these  great  men  is  much  better 
than  another,  and  that  •.  choice  among  them  is  but  like 
choosing  a  tree  to  be  hung  upon.  But  this  Count  de  St. 
Paul,  this  Constable,  hath  possessed  himself  by  clean  con- 
veyance of  the  town  which  takes  its  name  from  my  honored 
saint  and  patron,  St.  Quentin,*  (here  he  crossed  himself), 
and  methinks,  were  I  dwelling  there,  my  holy  patron  would 
keep  some  lookout  for  me  ;  he  has  not  so  many  named  aftei 
him  as  your  more  popular  saints  ;  and  yet  he  must  have  for- 
gotten me,  poor  Quentin  Durward,  his  spiritual  god-son, 
since  he  lets  me  go  one  day  without  food,  -and  leaves  me  the 
next  morning  to  the  harborage  of  St.  Julian,  and  the  chance 
courtesy  of  a  stranger,  purchased  by  a  ducking  in  the  re- 
nowned river  Cher,  or  one  of  its  tributaries." 

*'  Blaspheme  not  the  saints,  my  young  friend,"  said  Maitre 
Pierre.  *'  St.  Julian  is  the  faithful  patron  of  travelers  ; 
and,  peradventure,  the  blessed  St.  Quentin  hath  done  more 
and  better  for  thee  than  thou  art  aware  of." 

As  he  spoke,  the  door  opened,  and  a  girl,  rather  above 
than  under  fifteen  years  old,  entered  with  a  platter,  covered 
with  damask,  on  which  was  placed  a  small  saucer  of  the  dried 
plums  which  have  always  added  to  the  reputation  of  Tours, 
and  a  cup  of  the  curiously  chased  plate  which  the  goldsmiths 
of  that  city  were  anciently  famous  for  executing  with  a  del- 
icacy of  workmanship  that  distinguished  them  from  the 
other  cities  of  France,  and  even  excelled  the  skill  of  the 
metropolis.  The  form  of  the  goblet  was  so  elegant,  that 
Durward  thought  not  of  observing  closely  whether  the  ma- 
terial was  of  silver,  or,  like  what  had  been  placed  before  him- 

♦  It  was  by  his  possession  of  the  town  of  St.  Quentin  that  the 
Constable  was  able  to  carry  on  those  political  intrigues  which  finally 
Qosk  him  so  dear. 


82  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

self,  of  a  baser  metal,  but  so  well  burnished  as  to  resemble 
the  richer  ore. 

But  the  sight  of  the  young  person  by  whom  this  service 
was  executed  attracted  Durward's  attention  far  more  than 
the  petty  minutiae  of  the  duty  which  she  performed. 

He  speedily  made  the  discovery  that  a  quantity  of  long, 
black  tresses,  which,  in  the  maiden  fashion  of  his  own  coun- 
try, were  unadorned  by  any  ornament,  except  a  single  chap- 
let  lightly  woven  out  of  ivy  leaves,  formed  a  veil  around  a 
countenance  which,  in  its  regular  features,  dark  eyes,  and 
pensive  expression,  resembled  that  of  Melpomene,  though 
there  was  a  faint  glow  on  the  cheek,  and  an  intelligence  on 
the  lips  and  in  the  eye,  which  made  it  seem  that  gaiety  was 
not  foreign  to  a  countenance  so  expressive,  although  it  might 
not  be  its  most  habitual  expression.  Quentin  even  thought 
he  could  discern  that  depressing  circumstances  were  the 
cause  why  a  countenance  so  young  and  so  lovely  was  graver 
than  belongs  to  early  beauty  ;  and  as  the  romantic  imagina- 
tion of  youth  is  rapid  in  drawing  conclusions  from  slight  pre- 
mises, he  was  pleased  to  infer,  from  what  follows,  that  the  fate 
of  this  beautiful  vision  was  wrapped  in  silence  and  mystery. 

"How  now,  Jacqueline!"  said  Maitre  Pierre  when  she 
entered  the  apartment.  '^  Wherefore  this  ?  Did  I  not  de- 
sire Dame  Perette  should  bring  what  I  wanted  ?  Basques- 
dieu  I  Is  she,  or  does  she  think  herself,  too  good  to  serve 
me?'' 

"  My  kinswoman  is  ill  at  ease,''  answered  Jacqueline,  in  a 
hurried  yet  a  humble  tone — "  ill  at  ease,  and  keeps  her 
chamber." 

'*  She  keeps  it  alone,  I  hope  ?"  replied  Maitre  Pierre,  with 
some  emphasis.  "  I  am  vieux  routier,  and  none  of  those 
upon  whom  feigned  disorders  pass  for  apologies." 

Jacqueline  turned  pale,  and  even  tottered,  at  the  answer 
of  Maitre  Pierre  ;  for  it  must  be  owned  that  his  voice  and 
looks,  at  all  times  harsh,  caustic,  and  unpleasing,  had,  when 
he  expressed  anger  or  suspicion,  an  effect  both  sinister 
and  alarming. 

The  mountain  chivalry  of  Quentin  Durward  was  instantly 
awakened,  and  he  hastened  to  approach  Jacqueline  and  re- 
lieve her  of  the  burden  she  bore,  and  which  she  passively 
resigned  to  him,  while  with  a  timid  and  anxious  look  she 
watched  the  countenance  of  the  angry  burgess.  It  was  not 
in  nature  to  resist  the  piercing  and  pity-craving  expression 
of  her  looks,  and  Maitre  Pierre  proceeded,  not  merely  with 
an  air  of  diminished  displeasure^  but  with  as  much  gentle* 


Q UENTIN  D  UR  WARD  33 

ness  as  he  could  assume  in  countenance  and  manner — ''  I 
blame  not  thee,  Jacqueline,  and  thou  art  too  young  to  be — 
what  it  is  a  pity  to  think  thou  must  be  one  day — a  false  and 
treacherous  thing,  like  the  rest  of  thy  giddy  sex.*  No  man 
ever  lived  to  man's  estate  but  he  had  the  opportunity  to 
know  you  all.  Here  is  a  Scottish  cavalier  win  tell  yon  the 
same. 

Jacqueline  looked  for  an  instant  on  the  young  stranger,  as 
if  to  obey  Maitre  Pierre,  but  the  glance,  momentary  as  it 
was,  appeared  to  Durward  a  pathetic  appeal  to  him  for  support 
and  sympathy  ;  and  with  the  promptitude  dictated  by  the 
feelings  of  youth,  and  the  romantic  veneration  for  the  female 
sex  inspired  by  his  education,  he  answered  hastily,  **  That 
he  would  throw  down  his  gage  to  any  antagonist,  of  equal 
rank  and  equal  age,  who  should  presume  to  say  that  such 
a  countenance  as  that  which  he  now  looked  upon  could  be 
animated  by  other  than  the  purest  and  truest  mind.'' 

The  young  woman  grew  deadly  pale,  and  cast  an  appre- 
hensive glance  upon  Maitre  Pierre,  in  whom  the  bravado  of 
the  young  gallant  seemed  to  only  excite  laughter,  more  scorn- 
ful than  applausive.  Quentin,  whose  second  thoughts  gen- 
erally corrected  the  first,  though  sometimes  after  they  had 
found  utterance,  blushed  deeply  at  having  uttered  what 
might  be  construed  .into  an  empty  boast,  in  presence  of  an  old 
man  of  a  peaceful  profession  ;  and,  as  a  sort  of  just  and 
appropriate  penance,  resolved  patiently  to  submit  to  the  ridi- 
cule which  he  had  incurred.  He  offered  the  cup  and 
trencher  to  Maitre  Pierre  with  a  blush  in  his  cheek,  and  a 
humiliation  of  countenance  which  endeavored  to  disguise 
itself  under  an  embarrassed  smile. 

"  You  are  a  foolish  young  man,"  said  Maitre  Pierre,  "  and 
know  as  little  of  women  as  of  princes,  whose  hearts,"  he  said, 
crossing  himself  devoutly,  ''  God  keeps  in  his  right  hand." 

"And  who  keeps  those  of  the  women,  then  ? "  said  Quen- 
tin, resolved,  if  he  could  help  it,  not  to  be  borne  down  by  the 
assumed  superiority  of  this  extraordinary  old  man,  whose 
lofty  and  careless  manner  possessed  an  influence  over  him  of 
which  he  felt  ashamed. 

'*  I  am  afraid  you  must  ask  of  them  in  another  quarter,** 
said  Maitre  Pierre  composedly. 

Quentin  was  again  rebuffed,  but  not  utterly  disconcerted. 
"  Surely,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  I  do  not  pay  this  same  bur- 

*  It  was  a  part  of  Louis's  very  Tinamiable  character,  and  not  tht 
best  part  of  it,  that  he  entertained  a  great  contenipt  for  the  und«r- 
standing,  and  not  less  for  the  character,  of  the  fair  sex. 

% 


34  WAVERLEY  NOVELS. 

gess  of  Tours  all  the  deference  wliich  I  yield  him  on  account 
of  the  miserable  obligation  of  a  breakfast,  though  it  was  a 
right  good  and  substantial  meal.  Dogs  and  hawks  are 
attached  by  feeding  only  ;  man  must  have  kindness,  if 
you  would  bind  him  with  the  cords  of  affection  and  obliga- 
tion. But  he  is  an  extraordinary  person  ;  and  that  beautiful 
emanation  that  is  even  now  vanishing — surely  a  thing  so  fair 
belongs  not  to  this  mean  place,  belongs  not  even  to  the 
money-gathering  merchant  himself,  though  he  seems  to  exert 
authority  over  her,  as  doubtless  he  does  over  all  whom  chance 
brings  within  his  little  circle.  It  is  wonderful  what  ideas  of 
consequence  these  Flemings  and  Frenchmen  attach  to  wealth, 
so  much  more  than  wealth  deserves,  that  I  suppose  this  old 
merchant  thinks  the  civility  I  pay  to  his  age  is  given  to  his 
money — I,  a  Scottish  gentleman  of  blood  and  coat-armor, 
and  he  a  mechanic  of  Tours  ! " 

Such  were  the  thoughts  which  hastily  traversed  the  mind 
of  young  Durward  ;  while  Maitre  Pierre  said  with  a  smile, 
and  at  the  same  time  patting  Jacqueline's  head,  from  which 
hung  down  her  long  tresses,  '^  This  young  man  will  serve  me, 
Jacqueline  ;  thou  mayst  withdraw.  I  will  tell  thy  negligent 
kinswoman  she  does  ill  to  expose  thee  to  be  gazed  on  unnec- 
essarily.'' 

"  It  was  only  to  wait  on  you,"  said  the  maiden,  "  I  trust 
you  will  not  be  displeased  with  my  kinswoman,  since " 

'*  Pasques-dieu !  '*  said  the  merchant,  interrupting  her, 
but  not  harshly,  "  do  you  bandy  words  with  me,  you  brat, 
or  stay  you  to  ^aze  upon  the  youngster  here  ?  Begone  ;  he 
is  noble,  and  his  services  will  suffice  me." 

Jacqueline  vanished ;  and  so  much  was  Quentin  Durward 
interested  in  her  sudden  disappearance,  that  it  broke  his  pre- 
vious thread  of  reflection,  and  he  complied  mechanically, 
when  Maitre  Pierre  said,  in  a  tone  of  one  accustomed  to  be 
obeyed,  as  he  threw  himself  carelessly  upon  a  large  easy 
chair,  "  Place  that  tray  beside  me." 

The  merchant  then  let  his  dark  eyebrows  sink  over  his 
keen  eyes,  so  that  the  last  became  scarce  visible,  or  but  shot 
forth  occasionally  a  quick  and  vivid  ray,  like  those  of  the 
Bun  setting  behind  a  dark  cloud,  through  which  its  beams 
are  occasionally  darted,  but  singly,  and  for  an  instant. 

*'  That  is  a  beautiful  creature,"  said  the  old  man  at  last, 
raising  his  head,  and  looking  steadily  and  firmly  at  Quentin, 
when  he  put  the  question,  *^  a  lovely  girl  to  be  the  servant  of 
an  auherge  9  She  might  grace  the  board  of  an  honest  bur- 
gess ;  but  'tis  a  vile  education,  a  base  origin." 


qUENTIN  DURWAHD  35 

It  sometimes  happens  that  a  chance  shot  will  demolish  a 
noble  castle  in  the  air,  and  the  architect  on  such  occasions 
entertains  little  good-will  towards  him  who  fires  it,  although 
the  damage  on  the  offender's  part  may  be  wholly  uninten- 
tional. Quentin  was  disconcerted,  and  was  disposed  to  be 
angry,  he  himself  knew  not  why,  with  this  old  man  for  ac- 
quainting him  that  this  beautiful  creature  was  neither  more 
nor  less  than  what  her  occupation  announced — the  servant 
of  the  auhcrge — an  upper  servant,  indeed,  and  probably  a 
niece  of  the  landlord,  or  such-like  ;  but  still  a  domestic,  and 
obliged  to  comply  with  the  humor  of  the  customers,  and 
particularly  of  Maitre  Pierre,  who  probably  had  sufficiency 
of  whims,  and  was  rich  enough  to  ensure  their  being  at- 
tended to. 

The  thought,  the  lingering  thought,  again  returned  on 
him,  that  he  ought  to  make  the  old  gentleman  understand 
the  difference  betwixt  their  conditions,  and  call  on  him  to 
mark  that,  how  rich  soever  he  might  be,  his  wealth  put  him 
on  no  level  with  a  Durward  o  Glen  Houlakin.  Yet,  when- 
ever he  looked  on  Maitre  Pierre's  countenance  with  such  a 
purpose,  there  was,  notwithstanding  the  downcast  look, 
pinched  features,  and  mean  and  miserly  dress,  something 
which  prevented  the  young  man  from  asserting  the  superior- 
ity over  the  merchant  which  he  conceived  himself  to  possess. 
On  the  contrary,  the  oftener  and  more  fixedly  Quentin  looked 
at  him,  the  stronger  became  his  curiosity  to  know  who  or 
what  this  man  actually  was  ;  and  he  set  him  down  internally 
for  at  least  a  syndic  or  high  magistrate  of  Tours,  or  one  who 
was,  in  some  way  or  other,  in  the  full  habit  of  exacting  and 
receiving  deference. 

Meantime,  the  merchant  seemed  again  sunk  into  a  reverie, 
from  which  he  raised  himself  only  to  make  the  sign  of  the 
cross  devoutly,  and  to  eat  some  of  the  dried  fruit,  with  a 
morsel  ot  biscuit.  He  then  signed  to  Quentin  to  give  him 
the  cup,  adding,  however,  by  way  of  question,  as  he  pre- 
sented it — '^You  are  noble,  you  say  ?  " 

*'  I  surely  am,''  replied  the  Scot,  *'  if  fifteen  descents  can 
make  me  so.  So  I  told  you  before.  But  do  not  constrain 
yourself  on  that  account,  Maitre  Pierre  :  I  have  always  been 
taught  it  is  the  duty  of  the  young  to  assist  the  more  aged." 

'*  An  excellent  maxim,"  said  the  merchant,  availing  him- 
self of  the  youth's  assistance  in  handing  the  cup,  and  filling 
it  from  a  ewer  which  seemed  of  the  same  materials  with  the 
goblet,  without  any  of  those  scruples  in  point  of  propriety 
which,  perhaps,  Quentin  had  expected  to  excite.         ,,  , ^  .^ 


36  WAVERLUT  NOVELS 

*'  The  devil  take  the  ease  and  familiarity  of  this  old  me- 
chanical burgher/'  said  Durward  once  more  to  himself  ;  ''  he 
uses  the  attendance  of  a  noble  Scottish  gentleman  with  as 
little  ceremony  as  I  would  that  of  a  gillie  from  Glen  Isla." 

The  merchant,  in  the  meanwhile,  having  finished  his  cup 
of  water,  said  to  his  companion,  "  From  the  zeal  with  which 
you  seemed  to  relish  the  vtn  de  Beaulne,  I  fancy  you  would 
not  care  much  to  pledge  me  in  this  elemental  liquor.  But 
I  have  an  elixir  about  me  which  can  convert  even  the  rock 
water  into  the  richest  wines  of  France/' 

As  he  spoke,  he  took  a  large  purse  from  his  bosom,  made 
of  the  fur  of  the  sea  otter,  and  streamed  a  shower  of  small 
silver  pieces  into  the  goblet,  until  the  cup,  which  was  but  a 
small  one,  was  more  than  half  full. 

'^  You  have  reason  to  be  more  thankful,  young  man,''  said 
Maitre  Pierre,  *'  both  to  your  patron  St.  Quentin  and  to  St. 
Julian  than  you  seemed  to  be  but  now.  I  would  advise  you 
to  bestow  alms  in  their  name.  Eemain  in  this  hostelry  until 
you  see  your  kinsman,  Le  Balafre,  who  will  be  relieved  from 
guard  in  the  afternoon.  I  will  cause  him  to  be  acquainted 
that  he  may  find  you  here,  for  I  have  business  in  the  castle." 
Quentin  Durward  would  have  said  something  to  have  ex- 
cused himself  from  accepting  the  profuse  liberality  of  his 
new  friend  ;  but  Maitre  Pierre^  bending  his  dark  brows  and 
erecting  his  stooping  figure  into  an  attitude  of  more  dignity 
than  he  had  yet  seen  him  assume,  said,  in  a  tone  of  author- 
ity, ''  No  reply,  young  man, but  do  what  you  are  commanded.'' 
With  these  words,  he  left  the  apartment,  making  a  sign, 
as  he  departed,  that  Quentin  must  not  follow  him. 

The  young  Scotsman  stood  astounded,  and  knew  not  what 
to  think  of  the  matter.  His  first  most  natural,  though  per- 
haps not  most  dignified,  impulse  drove  him  to  peep  into  the 
silver  goblet,  which  assuredly  was  more  than  half  full  of  silver 
pieces,  to  the  number  of  several  scores,  of  which  perhaps 
Quentin  had  never  called  twenty  his  own  at  one  time  during 
the  course  of  his  whole  life.  But  could  he  reconcile  it  to  his 
dignity  as  a  gentleman  to  accept  the  money  of  this  wealthy 
plebeian  ?  This  was  a  trying  question  ;  for  though  he  had 
secured  a  good  breakfast,  it  was  no  great  reserve  upon  which 
to  travel  either  back  to  Dijon,  in  case  he  chose  to  hazard  the 
wrath,  and  enter  the  service,  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  or 
to  St.  Quentin,  if  he  fixed  on  that  of  the  Constable  St.  Paul ; 
for  to  one  of  those  powers,  if  not  to  the  King  of  France,  he 
was  determined  to  offer  his  services.  He  perhaps  took  the 
iriaest  resolution  in  the  circumstance*,  in  resolving  to  be 


Q  UENTIN  D  UR  WARD  37 

gnided  by  the  advice  of  his  uncle  ;  and,  in  the  meantime,  he 
put  the  money  into  his  velvet  hawking-pouch,  and  called  for 
the  landlord  of  the  house,  in  order  to  restore  the  silver- cup 
— resolving,  at  the  same  time,  to  ask  him  some  questions 
about  this  liberal  and  authoritative  merchant. 

The  man  of  the  house  appeared  presently ;  and,  if  not 
more  communicative,  was  at  least  more  loquacious  than  he 
had  been  formerly.  He  positively  declined  to  take  back  the 
silver  cup.  '^  It  was  none  of  his,^'  he  said,  "  but  Maitre 
Pierre^  who  had  bestowed  it  on  his  guest.  He  had,  in- 
deed, four  silver  hanaps  of  his  own,  which  had  been  left  him 
by  his  grandmother,  of  happy  memory,  but  no  more  like  the 
beautiful  carving  of  that  in  his  guest's  hand  than  a  peach 
was  like  a  turnip  :  that  was  one  of  the  famous  cups  of  Tours, 
wrought  by  Martin  Dominique,  an  artist  who  might  brag  all 
Paris/' 

*'  And,  pray,  who  is  this  Maitre  Pierre,"  said  Durward, 
interrupting  him,  **  who  confers  such  valuable  gifts  on 
strangers  ? '' 

'^  Who  is  Maitre  Pierre  ? ''  said  the  host,  dropping  the  words 
as  slowly  from  his  mouth  as  if  he  had  been  distilling  them. 

**  Ay,''  said  Durward,  hastily  and  peremptorily,  "  who  is 
this  Maitre  Pierre,  and  why  does  he  throw  about  his  bounties 
in  this  fashion  ?  And  who  is  the  butcherly-looking  fellow 
whom  he  sent  forward  to  order  breakfast  ?  " 

''  Why,  fair  sir,  as  to  who  Maitre  Pierre  is,  you  should  have 
asked  the  question  of  himself  ;  and  for  the  gentleman  who 
ordered  breakfast  to  be  made  ready,  may  God  keep  us  from 
his  closer  acquaintance  ! " 

*•  There  is  something  mysterious  in  all  this,"  said  the 
young  Scot.  "  This  Maitre  Pierre  tells  me  he  is  a  mer- 
chant." 

*^  And  if  he  told  you  so,"  said  the  innkeeper,  *'  surely  he 
is  a  merchant." 

"  What  commodities  does  he  deal  in  I " 

*'  0,  many  a  fair  matter  of  traffic,"  said  the  host ;  *'and 
especially  he  has  set  up  silk  manufactories  here,  which 
match  those  rich  bales  that  the  Venetians  bring  from  India 
and  Cathay.  You  might  see  the  rows  of  mulberry-trees  aa 
you  came  hither,  all  planted  by  Maitre  Pierre's  commands, 
to  feed  the  silk- worms." 

"  And  that  young  person  who  brought  in  the  confections, 
who  is  she,  my  good  friend  ! "  said  the  guest. 

*'  My  lodger,  sir,  with  her  guardian,  some  sort  of  aunt  (tt 
kinswoman,  as  I  think,*'  replied  the  innkeeper. 


m  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

**  And  do  you  usually  employ  your  guests  in  waiting  on 
each  other?  said  Durward  ;  *^for  I  observed  that  Maitre 
Pierre  would  take  nothing  from  your  hand  or  that  of  your 
attendant/' 

"  Kich  men  may  have  their  fancies,  for  they  can  pay  for 
them,"  said  the  landlord;  '*  this  is  not  the  first  time  that 
Maitre  Pierre  has  found  the  true  way  to  make  gentlefolks 
serve  at  his  beck/' 

The  young  Scotsman  felt  somewhat  offended  at  the  insinua- 
tion ;  but  disguising  his  resentment,  he  asked  whether  he 
could  be  accommodated  with  an  apartment  at  this  place  for  a 
day,  and  perhaps  longer. 

"  Certainly,''  the  innkeeper  replied  ;  *'  for  whatever  time 
he  was  pleased  to  command  it." 

''  Could  he  be  permitted,"  he  asked,  "to  pay  his  respects 
to  the  ladies,  whose  fellow-lodger  he  was  about  to  become  ?" 

The  innkeeper  was  uncertain.  *'  They  went  not  abroad," 
he  said,  "  and  received  no  one  at  home." 

*'  With  the  exception,  I  presume,  of  Maitre  Pierre  ? " 
said  Durward. 

"  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  name  any  exceptions,"  answered 
the  man,  firmly  but  respectfully. 

Quentin,  who  carried  the  notions  of  his  own  importance 
pretty  high,  considering  how  destitute  he  was  of  means  to 
support  them,  being  somewhat  mortified  by  the  innkeeper's 
reply,  did  not  hesitate  to  avail  himself  of  a  practice  common 
enough  in  that  age.  '*  Carry  to  the  ladies,^'  he  said,  "a 
flask  of  Auvernaty  with  my  humble  duty  ;  and  say,  that 
Quentin  Durward,  of  the  house  of  Glen  Houlakin,  a  Scottish 
cavalier  of  honor,  and  now  their  fellow-lodger,  desires  the 
permission  to  dedicate  his  homage  to  them  in  a  personal 
interview." 

The  messenger  departed,  and  returned,  almost  instantly, 
with  the  thanks  of  the  ladies,  who  declined  the  proffered  re- 
freshment, and  with  their  acknowledgments,  to  the  Scottish 
cavalier,  regretted  that,  residing  there  in  privacy,  they  could 
not  receive  his  visit. 

Quentin  bit  his  lip,  took  a  cup  of  the  rejected  Auvernat, 
which  the  host  had  placed  on  the  table.  *'  By  the  mass  but 
this  is  a  strange  country,"  said  he  to  himself,  *'  where  mer- 
chants and  mechanics  exercise  the  manners  and  munificence 
of  nobles,  and  little  traveling  damsels,  who  hold  their  court 
in  a  cabaret y  keep  their  state  like  disguised  princesses !  I 
will  see  that  black-browed  maiden  again,  or  it  will  go  hard, 
however  '* ;  and  having  formed  this  prudent  resolution^  ho 


y  UENTIN  D  UB  WABB  39 

demanded  to  be  conducted  to  the  apartment  which  he  was 
to  call  his  own. 

The  landlord  presently  ushered  him  up  a  turret  staircase, 
and  from  thence  along  a  gallery,  with  many  doors  opening 
from  it,  like  those  of  cells  in  a  convent — a  resemblance  which 
our  young  hero,  who  recollected,  with  much  etmui,  an  early 
specimen  of  a  monastic  life,  was  far  from  admiring.  The 
host  paused  at  the  very  end  of  the  gallery,  selected  a  key 
from  the  large  bunch  which  he  carried  at  his  girdle,  opened 
the  door,  and  showed  his  guest  the  interior  of  a  turret- 
chamber,  small,  indeed,  but  which,  being  clean  and  solitary, 
and  having  the  pallet  bed  and  the  few  articles  of  furniture 
in  unusually  good  order,  seemed,  on  the  whole,  a  little  palace. 

"  I  hope  you  will  find  your  dwelling  agreeable  here,  fair 
sir,'*  said  the  landlord.  **  I  am  bound  to  pleasure  every 
friend  of  Maitre  Pierre.'' 

'*  0  happy  ducking  ! "  exclaimed  Quentin  Durward,  cut- 
ting a  caper  on  the  floor  so  soon  as  his  host  had  retired. 
'*  Never  came  good  luck  in  a  better  or  a  wetter  form.  I 
have  been  fairly  deluged  by  my  good  fortune. '^ 

As  he  spoke  thus,  he  stepped  towards  the  little  window, 
which,  as  the  turret  projected  considerably  from  the  prin- 
cipal line  of  the  building,  not  only  commanded  a  very  pretty 
garden  of  some  extent,  belonging  to  the  inn,  but  overlooked 
beyond  its  boundary  a  pleasant  grove  of  those  very  mulberry- 
trees  which  Maitre  Pierre  was  said  to  have  planted  for  the 
support  of  the  silk-worm.  Besides,  turning  the  eye  from 
these  more  remote  objects,  and  looking  straight  along  the 
wall,  the  turret  of  Quentin  was  opposite  to  another  turret, 
and  the  little  window  at  which  he  stood  commanded  a 
similar  little  window  in  a  corresponding  projection  of  the 
building.  Now,  it  would  be  difficult  for  a  man  twenty  years 
older  than  Quentin  to  say  why  this  locality  interested  him 
more  than  either  the  pleasant  garden  or  the  grove  of  mul- 
berry-trees ;  for,  alas  !  eyes  which  have  been  used  for  forty 
years  and  upwards  look  with  indifference  on  little  turret- 
windows,  though  the  lattice  be  half  open  to  admit  the  air, 
while  the  shutter  is  half  closed  to  exclude  the  sun,  or  per- 
haps a  too  curious  eye — nay,  even  though  there  hang  on  the 
one  side  of  the  casement  a  lute,  partly  mantled  by  a  light 
veil  of  sea-green  silk.  But,  at  Dnrward's  happy  age,  such 
*'  accidents,^'  as  a  painter  would  call  them,  form  sufficient 
foundation  for  a  hundred  airy  visions  and  mysterious  con- 
jectures, at  recollection  of  which  the  full-grown  man  smiles 
while  he  sighs,  and  sighs  while  he  smil€»Si 


40  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

As  it  may  be  supposed  that  our  friend  Quentin  wished  to 
learn  a  little  more  of  his  fair  neighbor,  the  owner  of  the  lute 
and  veil — as  it  may  be  supposed  he  was  at  least  interested  to 
know  whether  she  might  not  prove  the  same  whom  he  had 
seen  in  humble  attendance  on  Maitre  Pierre,  it  must  of 
course  be  understood  that  he  did  not  produce  a  broad  star- 
ing visage  and  person  in  full  front  of  his  own  casement. 
Durward  knew  better  the  art  of  bird-catching  ;  and  it  was 
to  his  keeping  his  person  skilfully  withdrawn  on  one  side  of 
his  window,  while  he  peeped  through  the  lattice,  that  he 
owed  the  pleasure  of  seeing  a  white,  round,  beautiful  arm 
take  down  the  instrument,  and  that  his  ears  had  presently 
after  their  share  in  the  reward  of  his  dexterous  manage- 
ment. 

The  maid  of  the  little  turret,  of  the  veil,  and  of  the  lute 
sung  exactly  such  an  air  as  we  are  accustomed  to  suppose 
flowed  from  the  lips  of  the  high-born  dames  of  chivalry, 
when  knights  and  troubadours  listened  and  languished. 
The  words  had  neither  so  much  sense,  wit,  or  fancy  as  to 
withdraw  the  attention  from  the  music,  nor  the  music  so 
much  of  art  as  to  drown  all  feeling  of  the  words.  The  one 
seemed  fitted  to  the  other  ;  and  if  the  song  had  been  recited 
without  the  notes,  or  the  air  played  without  the  words, 
neither  would  have  been  worth  noting.  It  is,  therefore, 
scarcely  fair  to  put  upon  record  lines  intended  not  to  be  said 
or  read,  but  only  to  be  sung.  But  such  scraps  of  old  poetry 
have  always  had  a  sort  of  fascination  for  us  ;  and  as  the  tune 
is  lost  forever,  unless  Bishop  happens  to  find  the  notes,  or 
some  lark  teaches  Stephens  *  to  warble  the  air,  we  will  risk 
our  credit,  and  the  taste  of  the  Lady  of  the  Lute,  by  pre* 
serving  the  verses,  simple  and  even  rude  as  they  are. 

'*  Ah  I  County  Guy,  the  hour  is  nigh, 

The  sun  has  left  the  lea, 
The  orange  flower  perfumes  the  bower, 

The  breeze  is  on  the  sea. 
The  lark,  his  lay  who  thrill'd  all  day, 

Sits  hush'd  his  partner  nigh  ; 
Breeze,  bird,  and  flower,  confess  the  hour, 

But  where  is  County  Guy  ?  " 

"  The  village  maid  steals  through  the  shade, 
Her  shepherd's  suit  to  hear  ; 
To  beautjr  shy,  by  lattice  high, 
Sings  high  born  cavalier. 

♦See  Note  8. 


QUSNTIN  DURWABJ)  4i 

The  star  of  Love,  all  stars  above, 
Now  reigns  o'er  earth  and  sky  ; 

And  high  and  low  the  influence  know- 
But  where  is  County  Guy  ?  " 

"Whatever  the  reader  may  think  of  this  simple  ditty,  it  had 
a  powerful  effect  on  Quentin,  when  married  to  heavenly  airs, 
and  sung  by  a  sweet  and  melting  voice,  the  notes  mingling 
with  the  gentle  breezes  which  wafted  perfumes  from  the 
garden,  and  the  figure  of  the  songstress  being  so  partially 
and  obscurely  visible  as  threw  a  veil  of  mysterious  fascina- 
tion over  the  whole. 

At  the  close  of  the  air,  the  listener  could  not  help  showing 
himself  more  boldly  than  he  had  yet  done,  in  a  rash  attempt 
to  see  more  than  he  had  yet  been  able  to  discover.  The 
music  instantly  ceased,  the  casement  was  closed,  and  a  dark 
curtain,  dropped  on  the  inside,  put  a  stop  to  all  farther 
observation  on  the  part  of  the  neighbor  in  the  next  turret. 

Durward  was  mortified  and  surprised  at  the  consequence 
of  his  precipitance,  but  comforted  himself  with  the  hope  that 
the  Lady  of  the  Lute  could  neither  easily  forego  the  practise 
of  an  instrument  which  seemed  so  familiar  to  her,  nor  cruelly 
resolve  to  renounce  the  pleasures  of  fresh  air  and  an  open 
window  for  the  churlish  purpose  of  preserving  for  her  own 
exclusive  ear  the  sweet  sounds  which  she  created.  There 
came,  perhaps,  a  little  feeling  of  personal  vanity  to  mingle 
with  these  consolatory  reflections.  If,  as  he  shrewdly  sus- 
pected, there  was  a  beautiful,  dark- tressed  damsel  inhabitant 
of  the  one  turret,  he  could  not  but  be  conscious  that  a  hand- 
some, young,  roving,  bright-locked  gallant,  a  cavalier  of 
fortune,  was  the  tenant  of  the  other  ;  and  romances,  those 
prudent  instructors,  had  taught  his  youth  that  if  damsels 
were  shy,  they  were  yet  neither  void  of  interest  nor  of  curi- 
osity in  their  neighbors'  affairs. 

Whilst  Quentin  was  engaged  in  these  sage  reflections,  a 
sort  of  attendant  or  chamberlain  of  the  inn  informed  him 
that  a  cavalier  desired  to  speak  with  him  below. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  MAN-AT-ARMS 

Full  of  strange  oaths,  and  bearded  like  the  pard, 
Seeking  the  bubble  reputation  even  in  the  cannon's  mouth. 

As  You  Like  It 

The  cavalier  who  awaited  Quentin  Dnrward's  descent  into 
the  apartment  where  he  had  breakfasted  was  one  of  those  of 
whom  Louis  XI  had  long  since  said,  that  they  held  in  their 
hands  the  fortune  of  France,  as  to  them  were  entrusted  the 
direct  custody  and  protection  of  the  royal  person. 

Charles  the  Sixth  had  instituted  this  celebrated  body,  the 
Archers,  as  they  were  called,  of  the  Scottish  Body-Guard, 
with  better  reason  than  can  generally  be  alleged  for  establish- 
ing round  the  throne  a  guard  of  foreign  and  mercenary 
troops.  The  divisions  which  tore  from  his  side  more  than 
half  of  France,  together  with  the  wavering  and  uncertain 
faith  of  the  nobility  who  yet  acknowledged  his  cause,  ren- 
dered it  impolitic  and  unsafe  to  commit  his  personal  safety 
to  their  keeping.  The  Scottish  nation  was  the  hereditary 
enemy  of  the  English  and  the  ancient,  and,  as  it  seemed, 
the  natural  allies  of  France.  They  were  poor,  courageous, 
faithful ;  their  ranks  were  sure  to  be  supplied  from  the 
superabundant  population  of  their  own  country,  than  which 
none  in  Europe  sent  forth  more  or  bolder  adventurers. 
Their  high  claims  of  descent,  too,  gave  them  a  good  title  to 
approach  the  person  of  a  monarch  more  closely  than  other 
troops,  while  the  comparative  smallness  of  their  numbers 
prevented  the  possibility  of  their  mutinying,  and  becoming 
masters  where  they  ought  to  be  servants. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  French  monarchs  made  it  their 
policy  to  conciliate  the  affections  of  this  select  band  ot 
foreigners,  by  allowing  them  honorary  privileges  and  ample 
pay,  which  last  most  of  them  disposed  of  with  military  pro- 
fusion in  supporting  their  supposed  rank.  Each  of  them 
ranked  as  a  gentleman  in  place  and  honor  ;  and  their  near 
approach  to  the  king's  person  gave  them  dignity  in  their 
own  eyes,  as  well  as  importance  in  those  of  the  nation  of 

43 


Q  UENTIN  D  UR  WARD  48 

France.  They  were  sumptuously  armed,  equipped,  and 
mounted  ;  and  each  was  entitled  to  allowance  for  a  squire,  a 
valet,  a  page,  and  two  yeomen,  one  of  whom  was  termed 
coutelier,  from  the  large  knife  which  he  wore  to  despatch 
those  whom  in  the  melee  his  master  had  thrown  to  the 
ground.  With  these  followers,  and  a  corresponding  equi- 
page,  an  archer  of  the  Scottish  Guard  was  a  person  of  qual- 
ity and  importance  ;  and  vacancies  being  generally  filled  up 
by  those  who  had  been  trained  in  the  service  as  pages  or 
valets,  the  cadets  of  the  best  Scottish  families  were  often 
sent  to  serve  under  some  friend  and  relation  in  those  capaci- 
ties, until  a  chance  of  preferment  should  occur. 

The  coutelier  and  his  companion,  not  being  noble  or  capable 
of  this  promotion,  were  recruited  from  persons  of  inferior 
quality  ;  but  as  their  pay  and  appointments  were  excellent, 
their  masters  were  easily  able  to  select  from  among  their 
wandering  countrymen  the  strongest  and  most  courageous  to 
wait  upon  them  in  these  capacities. 

Ludovic  Lesly,  or,  as  we  shall  more  frequently  call  him, 
Le  Balafr6,  by  which  name  he  was  generally  known  in  France, 
was  upward  of  six  feet  high,  robust,  strongly  compacted  in 
person,  and  hard-favored  in  countenance,  which  latter  attri- 
bute was  much  increased  by  a  large  and  ghastly  scar,  which, 
beginning  on  his  forehead,  and  narrowly  missing  his  right 
eye,  had  laid  bare  the  cheek-bone,  and  descended  from  thence 
almost  to  the  tip  of  his  ear,  exhibiting  a  deep  seam,  which 
was  sometimes  scarlet,  sometimes  purple,  sometimes  blue, 
and  sometimes  approaching  to  black  ;  but  always  hideous, 
because  at  variance  with  the  complexion  of  the  face  in  what- 
ever state  it  chanced  to  be,  whether  agitated  or  still,  flushed 
with  unusual  passion,  or  in  its  ordinary  state  of  weather* 
beaten  and  sunburnt  swarthiness. 

His  dress  and  arms  were  splendid.  He  wore  his  national 
bonnet,  crested  with  a  tuft  of  feathers,  and  with  a  Virgin 
Mary  of  massive  silver  for  a  brooch.  These  brooches  had 
been  presented  to  the  Scottish  Guard,  in  consequence  of  the 
King,  in  one  of  his  fits  of  superstitious  piety,  having  devoted 
the  swords  of  his  guard  to  the  service  of  the  Holy  Virgin, 
and,  as  some  say,  carried  the  matter  so  far  as  to  draw  out  a 
commission  to  Our  Lady  as  their  captain-general.  The 
archer's  gorget,  arm-pieces,  and  gauntlets  were  of  the  finest 
steel,  curiously  inlaid  with  silver,  and  his  hauberk,  or  shirt  of 
mail,  was  as  clear  and  bright  as  the  frostwork  of  a  winter  morn- 
ing upon  fern  or  brier.  He  .wore  a  loose  surcoat,  or  cassock, 
<^  rich  blue  velvet,  open  at  the  sides  like  that  of  a  herald^ 


44  WA VERLEY  NOVELS 

with  a  large  white  St.  Andrew's  cross  of  embroidered  silver 
bisecting  it  both  before  and  behind  ;  his  knees  and  legs  were 
protected  by  hose  of  mail  and  shoes  of  steel  ;  a  broad  strong 
poniard,  called  the  "mercy  of  God,"  hung  by  his  right  side; 
the  baldric  for  his  two-handed  sword,  richly  embroidered, 
hung  upon  his  left  shoulder ;  but,  for  convenience,  he  at 
present  carried  in  his  hand  that  unwieldy  weapon,  which  the 
rules  of  the  service  forbade  him  to  lay  aside. 

Quentm  Durward,  though,  like  the  Scottish  youth  of  the 
period,  he  had  been  early  taught  to  look  upon  arms  and  war, 
thought  he  had  never  seen  a  more  martial-looking,  or  more 
completely  equipped  and  accomplished,  man-at-arms  than 
now  saluted  him  in  the  person  of  his  mother's  brother,  called 
Ludovic  with  the  Scar,  or  Le  Balafre  ;  yet  he  could  not  but 
shrink  a  little  from  the  grim  expression  of  his  countenance, 
while,  with  its  rough  mustachios,  he  brushed  first  the  one 
and  then  the  other  cheek  of  his  kinsman,  welcomed  his  nephew 
to  France,  and,  in  the  same  breath,  asked  what  news  from 
Scotland. 

**  Little  good  tidings,  dear  uncle,"  replied  young  Durward; 
*'  but  I  am  glad  that  you  know  me  so  readily.'' 

*'  I  would  have  known  thee,  boy,  in  the  landes  of  Bour- 
deaux,  had  I  met  thee  marching  there  like  a  crane  on  a  pair 
of  stilts.*  But  sit  thee  down — sit  thee  down  ;  if  there  is 
sorrow  to  hear  of,  we  will  have  wine  to  make  us  bear  it.  Ho! 
old  Pinch-Measure,  our  good  host,  bring  us  of  thy  best,  and 
that  in  an  instant.'* 

The  well-known  sound  of  the  Scottish  French  was  as  famil- 
iar in  the  taverns  near  Plessis  as  that  of  the  Swiss  French  in 
the  modern  guinguettes  of  Paris  ;  and  promptly — ay,  with 
the  promptitude  of  fear  and  precipitation — was  it  heard  and 
obeyed.  A  flagon  of  champagne  stood  before  them,  of  which 
the  elder  took  a  draught,  while  the  nephew  helped  himself 
only  to  a  moderate  sip,  to  acknowledge  his  uncle's  courtesy, 
saying,  in  excuse,  that  he  had  already  drunk  wine  that 
morning, 

"  That  had  been  a  rare  good  apology  in  the  mouth  of  thy 
sister,  fair  nephew,"  said  Le  Balafr6  ;  "you  must  fear  the 
wine-pot  less,  if  you  would  wear  beard  on  your  face,  and 
write  yourself  soldier.  But  come — come,  unbuckle  your 
Scottish  mail-bag — give  us  the  news  of  Glen  Houlakin.  How 
doth  my  sister  ?  " 

**  Dead,  fair  uncle,"  answered  Quentin,  sorrowfully. 

'*  Dead  I "  echoed  his  uncle  with  a  tone  rather  marked  by 

•  Sm  Use  of  StiltB.    Note  9. 


QUENTIN  DUBWABD  45 

wonder  than  sympathy  ;  "  why,  she  was  five  years  younger 
than  I,  and  I  was  never  better  in  my  life.  Dead  !  the  thing 
is  impossible.  I  have  never  had  so  much  as  a  headache, 
unless  after  reveling  out  my  two  or  three  days'  furlough 
with  the  brethren  of  the  joyous  science  ;  and  my  poor  sister 
is  dead  !  And  your  father,  fair  nephew,  hath  he  married 
again  ?" 

And  ere  the  youth  could  reply,  he  read  the  answer  in  his 
surprise  at  the  question,  and  said,  "  What !  no  ?  I  would 
have  sworn  that  Allan  Durward  was  no  man  to  live  with- 
out a  wife.  He  loved  to  have  his  house  in  order,  loved  to 
look  on  a  pretty  woman  too,  and  was  somewhat  strict  in 
life  withal ;  matrimony  did  all  this  for  him.  Now,  I  care 
little  about  these  comforts  ;  and  I  can  look  on  a  pretty 
woman  without  thinking  on  the  sacrament  of  wedlock  ;  I  am 
scarce  holy  enough  for  thaf 

/*  Alas  !  dear  uncle,  my  mother  was  left  a  widow  a  year 
since,  when  Glen  Houlakin  was  harried  by  the  Ogilvies.  My 
father,  and  my  two  uncles,  and  my  two  elder  brothers,  and 
seven  of  my  kinsmen,  and  the  harper,  and  the  tasker,  and 
some  six  more  of  our  people,  were  killed  in  defending  the 
castle ;  and  there  is  not  a  burning  hearth  or  a  standing 
stone  in  all  Glen  Houlakin.'* 

'*  Cross  of  St.  Andrew  ! ''  said  de  Balafr^  ;  *'  that  is  what 
I  call  an  onslaught !  Ay,  these  Ogilvies  were  ever  but  sorry 
neighbors  to  Glen  Houlakin  ;  an  evil  chance  it  was,  but  fate 
of  war — fate  of  war.  When  did  this  mishap  befall,  fair 
nephew  ?  "  With  that  he  took  a  deep  draught  of  wine,  and 
shook  his  head  with  much  solemnity  when  his  kinsman  re- 
plied that  his  family  had  been  destroyed  upon  the  festival  of 
St.  June  last  by-past. 

*'  Look  ye  there,''  said  the  soldier,  "  I  said  it  was  all 
chance.  On  that  very  day  I  and  twenty  of  my  comrades 
carried  the  Castle  of  Eoche-Noir  by  storm,  from  Amaury 
Bras-de-Fer,  a  captain  of  free  lances,  whom  you  must  have 
heard  of.  I  killed  him  on  his  own  threshold,  and  gained  as 
much  gold  as  made  this  fair  chain,  which  was  once  twice  as 
long  as  it  now  is  ;  and  that  minds  me  to  send  part  of  it  on 
an  holy  errand.     Here  Andrew — Andrew  !  " 

Andrew,  his  yeoman,  entered,  dressed  like  the  archer  him- 
self in  the  general  equipment,  but  without  the  armor  for 
the  limbs  ;  that  of  the  body  more  coarsely  manufactured  ; 
his  cap  without  a  plume,  and  his  cassock  made  of  serge,  or 
ordinary  cloth,  instead  of  rich  velvet.  Untwining  his  gold 
chain  from  his  neck,  Balafre  twisted  off,  with  his  firm  and 


46  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

strong- set  teeth,  about  four  inches  from  the  one  end  of  it, 
and  said  to  his  attendant,  *'  Here,  Andrew,  carry  this  to  my 
gossip,  jolly  Father  Boniface,  the  monk  of  St.  Martin's  ; 
greet  him  well  from  me,  by  the  same  token  that  he  could 
not  say  '  God  save  ye'  when  we  last  parted  at  midnight. 
Tell  my  gossip  that  my  brother  and  sister,  and  some  others 
of  my  house,  are  all  dead  and  gone,  and  I  pray  him  to  say 
masses  for  their  souls  as  far  as  the  value  of  these  links  will 
carry  him,  and  to  do  on  trust  what  else  may  be  necessary  to 
free  them  from  purgatory.  And  hark  ye,  as  they  were  just- 
living  people,  and  free  from  all  heresy,  it  may  be  that  they 
are  wellnigh  out  of  limbo  already,  so  that  a  little  matter 
may  have  them  free  of  the  fetlocks  :  and  in  khat  case,  look 
ye,  ye  will  say  I  desire  to  take  out  the  balance  of  the  gold  in 
curses  upon  a  generation  called  the  Ogilvies  of  Angusshire, 
in  what  way  soever  the  church  may  best  come  at  them. 
You  understand  all  this,  Andrew  ?  *' 

The  coutelier  nodded. 

"  Then  look  that  none  of  the  links  find  their  way  to  the 
wine-house  ere  the  monk  touches  them  ;  for  if  it  so  chance, 
thou  shalt  taste  of  saddle-girth  and  stirrup-leather,  till  thou 
art  as  raw  as  St.  Bartholomew.  Yet  hold,  I  see  thy  eye 
has  fixed  on  the  wine  measure,  and  thou  shalt  not  go  with- 
out tasting." 

So  saying,  he  filled  him  a  brimful  cup,  which  the  cou- 
telier drank  off,  and  retired  to  do  his  patron's  commission. 

''  And  now,  fair  nephew,  let  us  hear  what  was  your  own 
fortune  in  this  unhappy  matter." 

"  I  fought  it  out  among  those  who  were  older  and  stouter 
than  I  was,  till  we  were  all  brought  down,"  said  Durward, 
*'and  I  received  a  cruel  wound." 

"Not  a  Avorse  slash  than  I  received  ten  years  since  my- 
self," said  Le  Balafre.  ''Look  at  this  now,  my  fair 
nephew,"  tracing  the  dark  crimson  gash  which  was  im- 
printed on  his  face.  "An  Ogilvie's  sword  never  plowed 
so  deep  a  furrow." 

"They  ploughed  deep  enough,"  answered  Quentin, 
sadly  ;  "  but  they  were  tired  at  last,  and  my  mother's  en- 
treaties procured  mercy  for  me,  when  I  was  found  to  retain 
some  spark  of  life  ;  but  although  a  learned  monk  of  Aber- 
brothock,  who  chanced  to  be  our  guest  at  the  fatal  time, 
and  narrowly  escaped  being  killed  in  the  fray,  was  per- 
mitted to  bind  my  wounds,  and  finally  to  remove  me  to  a 
place  of  safety,  it  was  only  on  promise,  given  both  by  my 
mother  and  him,  that  I  should  becomo  a  monk/' 


qUENTIN  B  UR  WARD  47 

"A  monkl''  exclaimed  the  uncle — '^Holy  St.  Andrew! 
that  is  what  never  befell  me.  No  one,  from  my  childhood 
upwards,  ever  so  much  as  dreamed  of  making  me  a  monk. 
And  yet  I  wonder  when  I  think  of  it ;  for  you  will  allow  that, 
bating  the  reading  and  writing,  which  I  could  never  learn  ; 
and  the  psalmody,  which  I  could  never  endure  ;  and  the 
dress,  which,  is  that  of  a  mad  beggar — Our  Lady  forgive 
me !  (here  he  crossed  himself)  ;  and  their  fasts,  which  do 
not  suit  my  appetite,  I  would  have  made  every  whit  as  good 
a  monk  as  my  little  gossip  at  St.  Martin's  yonder.  But  I 
know  not  why,  none  ever  proposed  the  station  to  me.  0  so, 
fair  nephew,  you  were  to  be  a  monk,  then  ;  and  wherefore,  I 
pray  you  ?'* 

''That  my  father's  house  might  be  ended,  either  in  the 
cloister  or  in  the  tomb,''  answered  Quentin,  with  deep  feeling. 

"I  see,"  answered  his  uncle — '' 1  comprehend.  Cun- 
ning rogues — very  cunning  !  They  might  have  been  cheated, 
though  ;  for,  look  ye,  fair  nephew,  I  myself  remember  the 
canon  Robesart  who  had  taken  the  vows,  and  afterwards 
broke  out  of  cloister,  and  became  a  captain  of  Free  Compan- 
ions. He  had  a  mistress,  the  prettiest  wench  I  ever  saw, 
and  three  as  beautiful  children.  There  is  no  trusting 
monks,  fair  nephew, — no  trusting  them  :  they  may  become 
soldiers  and  fathers  when  you  least  expect  it ;  but  on  with 
your  tale." 

"  I  have  little  more  to  tell,"  said  Durward,  *'  except  that, 
considering  my  poor  mother  to  be  in  some  degree  a  pledge 
for  me,  I  was  induced  to  take  upon  me  the  dress  of  a  novice, 
and  conformed  to  the  cloister  rules,  and  even  learned  to  read 
and  write." 

''To  read  and  write!"  exclaimed  Le  Balafre,  who  was 
one  of  that  sort  of  people  who  think  all  knowledge  is  mira- 
culous which  chances  io  exceed  their  own.  "To  write, 
say'st  thou,  and  to  read  !  I  cannot  believe  it  :  never  Dur- 
ward could  write  his  name  that  ever  I  heard  of,  nor  Lesly 
either.  I  can  answer  for  one  of  them  :  I  can  no  more  write 
than  I  can  fly.  Now,  in  St.  Louis's  name,  how  did  they 
teach  it  you  ? 

"  It  was  troublesome  at  first,"  said  Durward,  "but  become 
more  easy  by  use  ;  and  I  was  weak  with  my  wounds  and  loss 
of  blood,  and  desirous  to  gratify  my  preserver.  Father  Peter, 
and  so  I  was  the  more  easily  kept  to  my  task.  But  after 
several  months'  languishing,  my  good  kind  mother  died,  and 
as  my  health  was  now  fully  restored,  I  communicated  to 
my  benefactor,  who  was  also  sub-prior  of  the  convent,  my 


48  WjI  VERLET  no VELS 

reluctance  to  take  the  vows  ;  and  it  was  agreed  between  ns, 
since  my  vocation  lay  not  to  the  cloister,  that  I  should  be 
sent  out  into  the  world  to  seek  my  fortune,  and  that,  to 
save  the  sub-prior  from  the  anger  of  the  Ogilvies,  my  de- 
parture should  have  the  appearance  of  flight ;  and  to  color 
it,  I  brought  off  the  abbot^s  hawk  with  me.  But  I  was  reg- 
ularly dismissed,  as  will  appear  from  the  hand  and  seal  of 
the  abbot  himself/* 

*'  That  is  right — that  is  well/'  said  his  uncle.  *'  Our  king 
cares  little  what  other  theft  thou  mayest  have  made,  but 
hath  a  horror  at  anything  like  a  breach  of  the  cloister.  And, 
I  warrant  thee,  thou  hadst  no  great  treasure  to  bear  thy 
charges  ?" 

"Only  a  few  pieces  of  silver, ^^  said  the  youth  ;  *^for  to 
you,  fair  uncle,  I  must  make  a  free  confession.'^ 

'^Alas!"  repeated  Le  Balafre,  *'that  is  hard.  Now, 
though  I  am  never  a  hoarder  of  my  pay,  because  it  doth  ill 
to  bear  a  charge  about  one  in  these  perilous  times,  yet  I 
always  have — and  I  would  advise  you  to  follow  my  example 
— some  odd  gold  chain,  or  bracelet,  or  carcanet,  that  serves 
for  the  ornament  of  my  person,  and  can  at  need  spare  a  su- 
perfluous link  or  two,  or  it  may  be  a  superfluous  stone,  for 
sale,  that  can  answer  any  immediate  purpose.  But  you  may 
ask,  fair  kinsman,  how  you  are  to  come  by  such  toys  as  this  ? 
(he  shook  his  chain  with  complacent  triumph).  They  hang 
not  on  every  bush;  they  grow  not  in  the  fields  like  the 
daffodils,  with  whose  stalks  children  make  knights'  collars. 
What  then  ?  you  may  get  such  where  I  got  this,  in  the  ser- 
vice of  the  good  King  of  France,  where  there  is  always 
wealth  to  be  found,  if  a  man  has  but  the  heart  to  seek  it,  at 
the  risk  of  a  little  life  or  so." 

'*  I  understand,"  said  Quentin,  evading  a  decision  to  which 
he  felt  himself  as  yet  scarcely  competent,  '^  that  the  Duke 
of  Burgundy  keeps  a  more  noble  state  than  the  King  of 
France,  and  that  there  is  more  honor  to  be  won  under  his 
banners,  that  good  blows  are  struck  there,  and  deeds  of 
arms  done  ;  while  the  Most  Christian  King,  they  say,  gains 
his  victories  by  his  ambassadors'  tongues." 

''You  speak  like  a  foolish  boy,  fair  nephew,"  answered 
he  with  the  scar;  "and  yet,  I  bethink  me,  when  I  came 
hither  I  was  nearly  as  simple  :  I  could  never  think  of  a  king 
but  what  I  supposed  him  either  sitting  under  the  high  deas 
and  feasting  amid  his  high  vassals  and  paladins,  eating  blanc- 
manger,  with  a  great  gold  crown  upon  his  head,  or  else 
charging  at  the  head  of  nis  troops  like  Charlemagne  in  the 


qUENTIN  DUE  WARD  49 

romaunts,  or  like  Kobert  Brace  or  William  Wallace  in  our 
own  true  histories,  such  as  Barbour  and  the  Minstrel.  Hark 
in  thine  ear,  man — it  is  all  moonshine  in  the  water.  Policy 
— policy  does  it  all.  But  what  is  policy,  you  will  say  ?  It 
is  an  art  this  French  king  of  ours  has  found  out,  to  fight 
with  other  men's  swords,  and  to  wage  his  soldiers  out  of 
other  men's  purses.  Ah  !  it  is  the  wisest  prince  that  ever 
put  purple  on  his  back ;  and  yet  he  weareth  not  much  of 
that  neither  :  I  see  him  often  go  plainer  than  I  would  think 
befitted  me  to  do.'' 

"  But  you  meet  not  my  exception,  fair  uncle,"  answered 
young  Durward  ;  "  I  would  serve,  since  serve  I  must  in  a 
foreign  land,  somewhere  where  a  brave  deed,  were  it  my 
hap  to  do  one,  might  work  me  a  name." 

"  I  understand  you,  my  fair  nephew,"  said  the  royal  man- 
at-arms — ^'I  understand  you  passing  well  ;  but  you  are  un- 
ripe in  these  matters.  The  Duke  of  Burgundy  is  a  hot- 
brained,  impetuous,  pudding-headed,  iron-ribbed  dare-all. 
He  charges  at  the  head  of  his  nobles  and  native  knights,  his 
liegemen  of  Artois  and  Hainault ;  think  you,  if  you  were 
there,  or  if  I  were  there  myself,  that  we  could  be  much  far- 
ther forward  than  the  Duke  and  all  his  brave  nobles  of  his 
own  land  ?  If  we  were  not  up  with  them,  we  had  a  chance 
to  be  turned  on  the  provost-marshal's  hands  for  being  slow 
in  making  to  ;  if  we  were  abreast  of  them,  all  would  be 
called  well,  and  we  might  be  thought  to  have  deserved  our 
pay  ;  and  grant  that  I  was  a  spear's-length  or  so  in  the  front, 
which  is  both  difficult  and  dangerous  in  such  a  meUe  where 
all  do  their  best,  why,  my  lord  duke  says,  in  his  Flemish 
tongue,  when  he  sees  a  good  blow  struck,  '*  Ha !  gut  get- 
roffen !  a  good  lance — a  brave  Scot ;  give  him  a  florin  to 
drink  our  health ;  but  neither  rank,  nor  lands,  nor  treas- 
ures come  to  the  stranger  in  such  a  service  :  all  goes  to  the 
children  of  the  soil." 

'^  And  where  should  it  go,  in  Heaven's  name,  fair  uncle  ?  " 
demanded  young  Durward. 

"  To  him  that  protects  the  children  of  the  soil,"  said 
Balafr^,  drawing  up  his  gigantic  height.  *'Thus  says  King 
Louis :  ^'  My  good  French  peasant — mine  honest  Jacques 
Bonhomme — get  you  to  your  tools,  your  plow  and  your 
harrow,  your  pruning-knife  and  your  hoe  ;  here  is  my  gal- 
lant Scot  that  will  fight  for  you,  and  you  shall  only  have 
the  trouble  to  pay  him.  And  you,  my  most  serene  duke, 
my  illustrious  count,  my  most  mighty  marquis,  e'en  rein  up 
your  fiery  courage  till  it  is  wanted,  for  it  is  apt  to  start  out 
4 


50  WA  VERLST  NOVELS 

of  the  course,  and  to  hurt  its  master ;  here  are  my  compa* 
nies  of  ordonnance — here  are  my  French  Guards — here  are, 
above  all,  my  Scottish  Archers,  and  mine  honest  Ludovic 
with  the  Scar,  who  will  fight,  as  well  or  better  than  you, 
with  all  that  undisciplined  valor  which,  in  your  fathers' 
time,  lost  Cressy  and  Azincour/'  Now,  see  you  not  in 
which  of  these  states  a  cavalier  of  fortune  holds  the  highest 
rank,  and  must  come  to  the  highest  honor  ?  " 

"I  think  I  understand  you,  fair  uncle,''  answered  the 
nephew  ;  "  but,  in  my  mind,  honor  cannot  be  won  where 
there  is  no  risk.  Sure,  this  is — I  pray  you  pardon  me — an 
easy  and  almost  slothful  life,  to  mount  guard  round  an 
elderly  man  whom  no  one  thinks  of  harming,  to  spend  sum- 
mer day  and  winter  night  up  in  yonder  battlements,  and 
shut  up  all  the  while  in  iron  cages,  foi-  fear  you  should  de- 
sert your  posts  ;  uncle — uncle,  it  is  but  the  hawk  upon  the 
perch,  who  is  never  carried  out  to  the  fields  !  ^' 

"  Now,  by  St.  Martin  of  Tours,  the  boy  has  some  spirit — 
a  right  touch  of  the  Leslyinhim — much  like  myself,  though 
always  with  a  little  more  folly  in  it !  Hark  ye,  youth — long 
live  the  King  of  France  ! — scarce  a  day  but  there  is  some 
commission  in  hand,  by  which  some  of  his  followers  may  win 
both  coin  and  credit.  Think  not  that  the  bravest  and  most 
dangerous  deeds  are  done  by  daylight.  I  could  tell  you  of 
some,  as  scaling  castles,  making  prisoners,  and  the  like, 
where  one  who  shall  be  nameless  hath  run  higher  risk,  and 
gained  greater  favor,  than  any  desperado  in  the  train  of  des- 
perate Charles  of  Burgundy.  And  if  it  please  his  Majesty 
to  remain  behind  and  in  the  background  while  such  things 
are  doing,  he  hath  the  more  leisure  of  spirit  to  admire,  and 
the  more  liberality  of  hand  to  reward,  the  adventurers, 
whose  dangers,  perhaps,  and  whose  feats  of  arms,  he  can 
better  judge  of  than  if  he  had  personally  shared  them.  0, 
*tis  a  sagacious  and  most  politic  monarch  ! " 

His  nephew  paused,  and  then  said,  in  a  low  but  impres- 
sive tone  of  voice,  "  The  good  Father  Peter  used  often  to 
teach  me  there  might  be  much  danger  in  deeds  by  which 
little  glory  was  acquired.  I  need  not  say  to  you,  fair  uncle, 
that  I  do  in  course  suppose  that  these  secret  commissions 
must  needs  be  honorable." 

*'  For  whom  or  for  what  take  you  me,  fair  nephew  ?  "  said 
Balefr§,  somewhat  sternly;  ^'I  have  not  been  trained,  in- 
deed, in  the  cloister,  neither  can  I  write  nor  read.  But  I 
am  your  mother's  brother  :  I  am  a  loyal  Lesly.  Think  you 
that  I  am  like  to  recommend  to  you  anything  unworthy  ? 


qUENTIN  DURWARD  51 

The  best  knight  in  France,  Du  Guesclin  himself,  if  he  were 
alive  again,  might  be  proud  to  number  my  deeds  among  his 
achievements/' 

"1  cannot  doubt  your  warranty,  fair  uncle,''  said  the 
youth  ;  *'  you  are  the  only  adviser  my  mishap  has  left  me. 
feat  is  it  true,  as  fame  says,  that  this  king  keeps  a  meager 
court  here  at  his  Castle  of  Plessis  ?  No  repair  of  nobles  or 
courtiers,  none  of  his  grand  feudatories  in  attendance,  none 
of  the  high  officers  of  the  crown  ;  half  solitary  sports,  shared 
only  with  the  menials  of  his  household  ;  secret  councils,  to 
w^hich  only  low  and  obscure  men  are  invited  ;  rank  and  no- 
bility depressed,  and  men  raised  from  the  lowest  origin  to 
the  kingly  favor — all  this  seems  unregulated,  resembles  not 
the  manners  of  his  father,  the  noble  Charles,  who  tore  from 
the  fangs  of  the  English  lion  this  more  than  half-conquered 
kingdom  of  France/' 

''You  speak  like  a  giddy  child,"  said  Le  Balafr6  ;  ''and 
even  as  a  child,  you  harp  over  the  same  notes  on  a  new 
string.  Look  you  :  if  the  King  employs  Oliver  Dain,  his 
barber,  to  do  what  Oliver  can  do  better  than  any  peer  of 
them  all,  is  not  the  kingdom  the  gainer  ?  If  he  bids  his 
stout  provost-marshal,  Tristan,  arrest  such  or  such  seditious 
burgher,  take  ofl:  such  or  such  a  turbulent  noble,  the  deed 
is  done  and  no  more  of  it  ;  when,  were  the  commission  given 
to  a  duke  or  peer  of  France,  he  might  perchance  send  the 
King  back  a  defiance  in  exchange.  If,  again,  the  King 
pleases  to  give  to  plain  Ludovic  le  Balafre  a  commission 
which  he  will  execute,  instead  of  employing  the  high  con- 
stable, who  would  perhaps  betray  it,  doth  it  not  show  wis- 
dom ?  Above  all,  doth  not  a  monarch  of  such  conditions 
best  suit  cavaliers  of  fortune,  who  must  go  where  their  ser- 
vices are  most  highly  prized  and  most  frequently  in  de- 
mand ?  No — no,  child,  I  tell  thee  Louis  knows  how  to 
choose  his  confidants,  and  what  to  charge  them  with,  suit- 
ing, as  they  say,  the  burden  to  each  man's  back.  He  is  not 
like  the  King  of  Castile,  who  choked  of  thirst  because  the 
great  butler  was  not  beside  to  hand  his  cup.  But  hark  to 
■*>he  bell  of  St.  Martin's  !  I  must  hasten  back  to  the  castle. 
Farewell ;  make  much  of  yourself,  and  at  eight  to-morrow 
morning  present  yourself  before  the  drawbridge,  and  ask  the 
sentinel  for  me.  Take  heed  you  step  not  off  the  straight 
and  beaten  path  in  appi caching  the  portal !  There  are  such 
traps  and  snap-haunches  aS  may  cost  you  a  limb,  which  you 
will  sorely  miss.  You  shall  see  the  King,  and  learn  to  judge 
him  for  yourself.     Farewell/' 


52  WAVUBLJi:Y  NOVELS 

So  saying,  Balafre  hastily  departed,  forgetting,  in  his 
hurry,  to  pay  for  the  wine  he  had  called  for — a  shortness  of 
memory  incidental  to  persons  of  his  description,  and  which 
his  host,  overawed,  perhaps,  by  the  nodding  bonnet  and 
ponderous  two-handed  sword,  did  not  presume  to  use  any 
efforts  for  correcting. 

It  might  have  been  expected  that,  when  left  alone,  Dur- 
ward  would  have  again  betaken  himself  to  his  turret,  in 
order  to  watch  for  the  repetition  of  those  delicious  sounds 
which  had  soothed  his  morning  reverie.  But  that  was  a 
chapter  of  romance,  and  his  nucleus  conversation  had  opened 
to  him  a  page  of  the  real  history  of  life.  It  was  no  pleasing 
one,  and  for  the  present  the  recollections  and  reflections 
which  it  excited  were  qualified  to  overpower  other  thoughts, 
and  especially  all  of  a  light  and  soothing  nature. 

Quentin  resorted  to  a  solitary  walk  along  the  banks  of  the 
rapid  Cher,  having  previously  inquired  of  his  landlord  for 
one  which  he  might  traverse  without  fear  of  disagreeable 
interruption  from  snares  and  pitfalls,  and  there  endeavored 
to  compose  his  turmoiled  and  scattered  thoughts,  and  con- 
sider his  future  motions,  upon  which  his  meeting  with  his 
uncle  had  thrown  some  dubiety. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE     BOHEMIANS 

Sae  rantingly,  sae  wantonly, 

Sae  dauntingly  g^ed  he, 
He  play'd  a  spring  and  danced  a  round 

Beneath  the  gallows-tree  I 

Old  Song. 

The  manner  in  which  Quentin  Durward  had  been  educated 
was  not  of  a  kind  to  soften  the  heart,  or  perhaps  to  improve 
the  moral  feeling.  He,  with  the  rest  of  his  family,  had  been 
trained  to  the  chase  as  an  amusement,  and  taught  to  con- 
sider war  as  their  only  serious  occupation,  and  that  it  was 
the  great  duty  of  their  lives  stubbornly  to  endure,  and 
fiercely  to  retaliate,  the  attacks  of  their  feudal  enemies,  by 
whom  their  race  had  been  at  last  almost  annihilated.  And 
yet  there  mixed  with  these  feuds  a  spirit  of  rude  chivalry, 
and  even  courtesy,  which  softened  their  rigor ;  so  that  re- 
venge, their  only  justice,  was  still  prosecuted  with  some  re- 
gard to  humanity  and  generosity.  The  lessons  oi  the  worthy 
old  monk,  better  attended  to,  perhaps,  during  a  long  illness 
and  adversity  than  they  might  have  been  in  health  and  suc- 
cess, had  given  young  burward  still  farther  insight  into  the 
duties  of  humanity  towards  others  ;  and,  considering  the 
ignorance  of  the  period,  the  general  prejudices  entertained 
in  favor  of  a  military  life,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  him- 
self had  been  bred,  the  youth  was  disposed  to  feel  more  ac- 
curately the  moral  duties  incumbent  on  his  station  than  was 
usual  at  the  time. 

He  reflected  on  his  interview  with  his  uncle  with  a  sense 
of  embarrassment  and  disappointment.  His  hopes  had  been 
high  ;  for  although  intercourse  by  letters  was  out  of  the 
question,  yet  a  pilgrim,  or  an  adventurous  trafficker,  or  a 
crippled  soldier,  sometimes  brought  Lesly's  name  to  Glen 
Houlakin,  and  all  united  in  praising  his  undaunted  courage, 
and  his  success  in  many  petty  enterprises  which  his  master 
had  entrusted  to  him.  Quentin's  imagination  had  filled  up 
the  sketch  in  his  own  way,  and  assimilated  his  successful 
and  adventurous  uncle  (whose  exploits  probably  lost  nothing 

58 


54  WA  VERLET  NO  VEL8 

in  the  telling)  to  some  of  the  champions  and  knights- errant 
of  whom  minstrels  sang,  and  who  won  crowns  and  kings' 
daughters  by  dint  of  sword  and  lance.  He  was  now  com- 
pelled to  rank  his  kinsman  greatly  lower  in  the  scale  of 
chivalry ;  but,  blinded  by  the  high  respect  paid  to  parents 
and  those  who  approach  that  character,  moved  l)y  every 
early  prejudice  in  his  favor,  inexperienced  besides,  and  pas- 
sionately attached  to  his  mother^s  memory,  he  saw  not,  in 
the  only  brother  of  that  dear  relation,  the  character  he  truly 
held,  which  was  that  of  an-  ordinary  mercenary  soldier, 
neither  much  worse  nor  greatly  better  than  many  of  the 
same  profession  whose  presence  added  to  the  distracted  state 
of  France. 

Without  being  wantonly  cruel,  Le  Balafre  was,  from 
habit,  indifferent  to  human  life  and  human  suffering ;  he 
'was  profoundly  ignorant,  greedy  of  booty,  unscrupulous 
how  he  acquired  it,  and  profuse  in  expending  it  on  the  grat- 
ification of  his  passions.  The  habit  of  attending  exclusively 
to  his  own  wants  and  interests  had  converted  him  into  one 
of  the  most  selfish  animals  in  the  world  ;  so  that  he  was  sel- 
dom able,  as  the  reader  may  have  remarked,  to  proceed  far 
in  any  subject  without  considering  how  it  applied  to  himself, 
or,  as  it  is  called,  making  the  case  his  own,  though  not  upon 
feelings  connected  with  the  golden  rule,  bat  such  as  v/ere 
very  different.  To  this  must  be  added,  that  the  narrow 
round  of  his  duties  and  his  pleasures  had  gradually  circum- 
scribed his  thoughts,  hopes,  and  wishes,  and  quenched  in  a 
great  measure  the  wild  spirit  of  honor,  and  desire  of  dis- 
tinction in  arms,  by  which  his  youth  had  been  once  ani- 
inated.  Balafr6  was,  in  short,  a  keen  soldier,  hardened, 
selfish,  and  narrow-minded ;  active  and  bold  in  the  dis- 
charge of  his  duty,  but  acknowledging  few  objects  beyond 
it,  except  the  formal  observance  of  a  careless  devotion,  re- 
lieved by  an  occasional  debauch  with  Brother  Boniface,  his 
comrade  and  confessor.  Had  his  genius  been  of  a  more 
extended  character,  he  would  probably  have  been  promoted 
to  some  important  command,  for  the  King,  who  knew  every 
soldier  of  his  body-guard  personally,  reposed  much  confi- 
dence in  Balafr^'s  courage  and  fidelity ;  and,  besides,  the 
Scot  had  either  wisdom  or  cunning  enough  perfectly  to  un- 
derstand, and  ably  to  humor,  the  peculiarities  of  that  sover- 
eign. Still,  however,  his  capacity  was  too  much  limited  to 
admit  of  his  rising  to  higher  rank,  and  though  smiled  on 
and  favored  by  Louis  on  many  occasions,  Balafr6  coAtinued 
«  mere  Life-Guardsman,  or  Scottish  Archei*.  ' 


QUENTIN  DUB  WARD  55 

Without  seeing  the  full  scope  of  his  uncle's  character, 
Quentin  felt  shocked  at  his  indifference  to  the  disastrous 
extirpation  of  his  brother-in-law's  whole  family,  and  could 
not  help  being  surprised,  moreover,  that  so  near  a  relative 
had  not  offered  him  the  assistance  of  his  purse,  which,  but 
for  the  generosity  of  Maitre  Pierre,  he  would  have  been  un- 
der the  necessity  of  directly  craving  from  him.  He  wronged 
his  uncle,  however,  in  supposing  that  this  want  of  attention 
to  his  probable  necessities  was  owing  to  avarice.  Not  pre- 
cisely needing  money  himself  at  that  moment,  it  had  not 
occurred  to  Balafre  that  his  nephew  might  be  in  exigencies  ; 
otherv/ise,  he  held  a  near  kinsman  so  much  a  part  of  him- 
self, that  he  would  have  provided  for  the  weal  of  the  living 
nephew,  as  he  endeavored  to  do  for  that  of  his  deceased 
sister  and  her  husband.  But,  whatever  was  the  motive,  the 
neglect  was  very  unsatisfactory  to  young  Durward,  and  he 
wished  more  than  once  he  had  taken  service  with  the  Duke 
of  Burgundy  before  he  quarreled  with  his  forester.  ^'  What- 
ever had  then  become  of  me,''  he  thought  to  himself,  "  I 
should  always  have  been  able  to  keep  up  my  spirits  with  the 
reflection  that  I  had,  in  case  of  the  worst,  a  stout  back-friend 
in  this  uncle  of  mine.  But  now  I  have  seen  him,  and,  woe 
worth  him  !  there  has  been  more  help  in  a  mere  mechanical 
stranger  than  I  have  found  in  my  own  mother's  brother,  my 
countryman  and  a  cavalier.  One  would  think  the  slash,  that 
has  carved  all  comeliness  out  of  his  face,  had  let  at  the  same 
time  every  drop  of  gentle  blood  out  of  his  body." 

Durward  now  regretted  he  had  not  had  an  opportunity  to 
mention  Maitre  Pierre  to  Le  Balafre,  in  the  hope  of  obtain- 
ing some  farther  account  of  that  personage  ;  but  his  uncle's 
questions  had  followed  fast  on  each  other,  and  the  summons 
of  the  great  bell  of  St.  Martin  of  Tours  had  broken  off  their 
conference  rather  suddenly.  ''  That  old  man,"  he  thought  to 
himself,  "  was  crabbed  and  dogged  in  appearance,  sharp  and 
scornful  in  language,  but  generous  and  liberal  in  his  actions  ; 
and  such  a  stranger  is  worth  a  cold  kinsman.  What  says 
our  old  Scottish  proverb  ?  "  Better  kind  f remit  than  f remit 
kindred."  *  ^'  I  will  find  out  that  man,  which,  methinks,  should 
be  no  difficult  task,  since  he  is  so  wealthy  as  mine  host  bespeaks 
him.  He  will  give  me  good  advice  for  my  governance  at 
least ;  and  if  he  goes  to  strange  countries,  as  many  such  do, 
I  know  not  but  his  may  be  as  adventurous  a  service  as  that 
of  those  guards  of  Louis." 

As  Quentin  framed  this  thought,  a  whisper  from  tnoae  re 

*  See  Note  10. 


56  WAVERLEY  NOVeI^ 

cesses  of  the  heart  in  which  lies  much  that  the  owner  does 
not  know  of,  or  will  not  acknowledge  willingly,  suggested 
that,  perchance,  the  lady  of  the  turret,  she  of  the  veil  and 
lute,  might  share  that  adventurous  journey. 

As  the  Scottish  youth  made  these  reflections,  he  met  two 
grave- looking  men,  apparently  citizens  of  Tours,  whom, 
doffing  his  cap  with  tlie  deference  due  from  youth  to  age,  he 
respectfully  asked  to  direct  him  to  the  house  of  Maitre 
Pierre. 

'^  The  house  of  whom,  my  fair  son  ?*'  said  one  of  the  pas- 
sengers. 

"  Of  Maitre  Pierre,  the  great  silk  merchant,  who  planted 
all  the  mulberry-trees  in  the  park  yonder,"  said  Durward. 

*'  Young  man,"  said  one  of  them  who  was  nearest  to  him, 
''you  have  taken  up  an  idle  trade  a  little  too  early." 

"  And  have  chosen  wrong  subjects  to  practise  your  fool- 
eries upon,**  said  the  farther  one,  still  more  gruffly.  ''The 
syndic  of  Tours  is  not  accustomed  to  be  thus  talked  to  by 
strolling  jesters  from  foreign  parts." 

Quentin  was  so  much  surprised  at  the  causeless  offense 
which  these  two  decent-looking  persons  had  taken  at  a  very 
simple  and  civil  question,  that  he  forgot  to  be  angry  at  the 
rudeness  of  their  reply,  and  stood  staring  after  them  as  they 
walked  on  with  amended  pace,  often  looking  back  at  him, 
as  if  they  were  desirous  to  get  as  soon  as  possible  out  of  his 
reach. 

He  next  met  a  party  of  vine- dressers  and  addressed  to  them 
the  same  question  ;  and,  in  reply,  they  demanded  to  know 
whether  he  wanted  Maitre  Pierre  the  schoolmaster,  or  Maitre 
Pierre  the  carpenter,  or  Maitre  Pierre  the  beadle,  or  half  a 
dozen  of  Maitre  Pierres  besides.  When  none  of  these  corre- 
sponded with  the  description  of  the  person  after  whom  he  in- 
quired, the  peasants  accused  him  of  jesting  with  them  imper- 
tinently, and  threatened  to  fall  upon  him  and  beat  him,  in 
guerdon  of  his  raillery.  The  oldest  amongst  them,  who  had 
some  influence  over  the  rest,  prevailed  on  them  to  desist  from 
violence. 

"  You  see  by  his  speech  and  his  fool's  cap,'*  said  he,  "  that 
he  is  one  of  the  foreign  mountebanks  who  are  come  into  the 
country,  and  whom  some  call  magicians  and  soothsayers, 
and  some  jugglers,  and  the  like,  and  there  is  no  knowing 
what  tricks  they  have  amongst  them.  I  have  heard  of  such 
a  one  paying  a  liard  to  eat  his  bellyful  of  grapes  in  a  poor 
man's  vineyard  ;  and  he  ate  as  many  as  would  have  loaded  a 
wain,  and  never  undid  a  button  of  his  jerkin  ;  and  so  let  him 


Q  U  EN  TIN  D  UR  WAB1>  67 

quietly,  and  keep  his  way,  as  we  will  keep  ours.  And 
yon,  friend,  if  you  would  shun  worse,  walk  quietly  on,  in 
the  name  of  God,  our  Lady  of  Marmontier,  and  St.  Martin 
of  Tours,  and  trouble  us  no  more  about  your  Maitre  Pierre, 
which  may  be  another  name,  for  the  devil,  for  aught  we 
know/' 

The  Scot,  finding  himself  much  the  weaker  party,  judged 
it  his  wisest  course  to  walk  on  without  reply  ;  but  the  peas- 
ants, who  at  first  shrunk  from  him  in  horror  at  his  supposed 
talents  for  sorcery  and  grape-devouring,  took  heart  of  grace 
as  he  got  to  a  distance,  and  having  uttered  a  few  cries  and 
curses,  finally  gave  them  emphasis  with  a  shower  of  stones, 
although  at  such  a  distance  as  to  do  little  or  no  harm  to  the 
object  of  their  displeasure.  Quentin,  as  he  pursued  his  walk, 
began  to  think,  in  his  turn,  either  that  he  himself  lay  under 
a  spell  or  that  the  people  of  Tourainc  were  the  most  stupid, 
brutal,  and  inhospitable  of  the  French  peasants.  The  next 
incident  which  came  under  his  observation  did  not  tend  to 
diminish  this  opinion. 

On  a  slight  eminence  rising  above  the  rapid  and  beautiful 
Cher,  in  the  direct  line  of  his  path,  two  or  three  large  chest- 
nut trees  were  so  happily  placed  as  to  form  a  distinguished 
and  remarkable  group  ;  and  beside  them  stood  three  or  four 
peasants,  motionless,  with  their  eyes  turned  upwards,  and 
fixed,  apparently,  upon  some  object  amongst  the  branches 
of  the  tree  next  to  them.  The  meditations  of  youth  are 
seldom  so  profound  as  not  to  yield  to  the  slightest  impulse 
of  curiosity,  as  easily  as  the  lightest  pebble,  dropped  casually 
from  the  hand,  breaks  the  surface  of  a  limpid  pool.  Quentin 
hastened  his  pace,  and  ran  lightly  up  the  rising  ground, 
time  enough  to  witness  the  ghastly  spectacle  which  attracted 
the  notice  of  these  gazers — which  was  nothing  less  than  the 
body  of  a  man,  convulsed  by  the  last  agony,  suspended  on 
one  of  the  branches. 

^'  Why  do  you  not  cut  him  down  ?*'  said  the  young  Scot, 
whose  hand  was  as  ready  to  assist  affliction  as  to  maintain  his 
own  honor  when  he  deemed  it  assailed. 

One  of  the  peasants,  turning  on  him  an  eye  from  which 
fear  had  banished  all  expression  but  its  own,  and  a  face  as 
pale  as  clay,  pointed  to  a  mark  cut  upon  the  bark  of  the  tree, 
having  the  same  rude  resemblance  to  a  fleur-de-lys  which 
certain  talismanic  scratches,  well  known  to  our  revenue 
officers,  bear  to  a  broad  arrow.  Neither  understanding  nor 
heeding  the  import  of  this  symbol,  young  Durward  sprung 
lightly  as  the  ounce  up  into  the  tree,  drew  from  his  pouch 


58  •  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

that  most  necessary  implement  of  a  Highlander  or  woods- 
man, the  trusty  skeiie  dhu,*  and  calling  to  those  below  to 
receive  the  body  on  their  hands,  cut  the  rope  asunder  in  less 
than  a  minute  after  he  had  perceived  the  exigency. 

But  his  humanity  was  ill  seconded  by  the  bystanders.  So 
far  from  rendering  Durward  any  assistance,  they  seemed 
terrified  at  the  audacity  of  his  action,  and  took  to  flight  with 
one  consent,  as  if  they  feared  their  merely  looking  on  might 
have  been  construed  into  accession  to  his  daring  deed.  The 
body,  unsupported  from  beneath,  fell  heavily  to  earth,  in 
such  a  manner  that  Quentin,  who  presently  afterwards 
jumped  down,  had  the  mortification  to  see  that  the  last 
sparks  of  life  were  extinguished.  He  gave  not  up  his  chari- 
table purpose,  however,  without  farther  efforts.  He  freed 
the  wretched  man's  neck  from  the  fatal  noose,  undid  the 
doublet,  threw  water  on  the  face,  and  practised  the  other 
ordinary  remedies  resorted  to  for  recalling  suspended 
animation. 

While  he  was  thus  humanely  engaged,  a  mild  clamor  of 
tongues,  speaking  a  language  which  he  knew  not,  arose 
around  him  ;  and  he  had  scarcely  time  to  observe  that  he 
was  surrounded  by  several  men  and  women  of  a  singular  and 
foreign  appearance,  when  he  found  himself  roughly  seized 
by  both  arms,  while  a  naked  knife  at  the  same  moment  was 
oifered  to  his  throat. 

"  Pale  slave  of  Eblis  ! "  said  a  man,  in  imperfect  French, 
**  are  you  robbing  him  you  have  murdered  ?  But  we  have 
you,  and  shall  abye  it." 

There  were  knives  drawn  on  every  side  of  him  as  these  words 
were  spoken,  and  the  grim  and  distorted  countenances  which 
glared  on  him  were  like  those  of  wolves  rushing  on  their 
prey. 

Still  the  young  Scot's  courage  and  presence  of  mind  bore 
him  out.  ''What  mean  ye,  my  masters?'*  he  said.  "If 
that  be  your  friend's  body,  I  have  just  now  cut  him  down  in 
pure  charity,  and  you  will  do  better  to  try  to  recover  his  lifo 
than  to  misuse  an  innocent  stranger  to  whom  he  owes  his 
chance  of  escape." 

The  women  had  by  this  time  taken  possession  of  the  dead 
body,  and  continued  the  attempts  to  recover  animation  which 
Durward  had  been  making  use  of,  though  with  the  like  bad 
success  ;  so  that,  desisting  from  their  fruitless  efforts,  they 
seemed  to  abandon  themselves  to  all  the  Oriental  expressions 
of  grief ;  the  women  making  a  piteous  wailing,  and  tearing 

*S©QNot«U. 


Qtl^NTlN  DUE W Ann  59 

their  long  black  hair,  wliile  the  men  seemed  to  rend  their 
garments  and  to  sprinkle  dust  upon  their  heads.  They 
gradually  became  so  much  engaged  in  their  mourning  rites, 
that  they  bestowed  no  longer  any  attention  on  Durward,  of 
ivhose  innocence  they  were  probably  satisfied  from  circum- 
stances. It  would  certainly  have  been  his  wisest  plan  to 
have  left  these  wild  people  to  their  own  courses,  but  he  had 
been  bred  in  almost  reckless  contempt  of  danger,  and  felt  all 
the  eagerness  of  youthful  curiosity. 

The  singular  assemblage,*  both  male  and  female,  wore 
turbans  and  caps,  more  similar,  in  general  appearance,  to 
his  own  bonnet  than  to  the  hats  commonly  worn  in  France. 
Several  of  the  men  had  curled  black  beards,  and  the  com- 
plexion of  all  was  nearly  as  dark  as  that  of  Africans.  One 
or  two,  who  seemed  their  chiefs,  had  some  tawdry  orna- 
ments of  silver  about  their  necks  and  in  their  ears,  and  wore 
showy  scarfs  of  yellow,  or  scarlet,  or  light  green  ;  but  their 
legs  and  arms  were  bare,  and  the  whole  troop  seemed 
wretched  and  squalid  in  appearance.  There  were  no  weapons 
among  them  that  Durward  saw,  except  the  long  knives  with 
which  they  had  lately  menaced  him,  and  one  short  crooked 
saber,  or  Moorish  sword,  which  was  worn  by  an  active-look- 
ing young  man,  who  often  laid  his  hand  upon  the  hilt,  while 
he  surpassed  the  rest  of  the  party  in  his  extravagant  ex- 
pressions of  grief,  and  seemed  to  mingle  with  them  threats 
of  vengeance. 

The  disordered  and  yelling  group  were  so  different  in 
appearance  from  any  beings  whom  Quentin  had  yet  seen, 
that  he  was  on  the  point  of  concluding  them  to  be  a  party 
of  Saracens,  of  those  ^'heathen  hounds''  who  were  the  op- 
ponents of  gentle  knights  and  Christian  monarchs  in  all  the 
romances  which  he  had  heard  or  read,  and  was  about  to 
withdraw  himself  from  a  neighborhood  so  perilous,  when  a 
galloping  of  horse  was  heard,  and  the  supposed  Saracens, 
who  had  raised  by  this  time  the  body  of  their  comrade  apon 
their  shoulders,  were  at  once  charged  by  a  party  of  French 
soldiers. 

This  sudden  apparition  changed  the  measured  wailing  of 
the  mourners  into  irregular  shrieks  of  terror.  The  body 
was  thrown  to  the  ground  in  an  instant,  and  those  who  were 
around  it  showed  the  utmost  and  most  dexterous  activity  in 
escaping,  under  the  bellies  as  it  were  of  the  horses,  from  the 
point  of  the  lances  which  were  leveled  at  them  with  ex- 
clamations of  '*  Down  with  the  accursed  heathen  thieves— 

•  See  Gipaies  or  Bohemians.    Note  12. 


ao  wavehlet  novels 

take  and  kill — bind  them  like  beasts — spear  them  like 
wolves  ! " 

These  cries  were  accompanied  with  corresponding  acts  of 
violence  ;  but  such  was  the  alertness  of  the  fugitives,  the 
ground  being  rendered  unfavorable  to  the  horsemen  by 
thickets  and  bushes,  that  only  two  were  struck  down  and 
made  prisoners,  one  of  whom  was  the  young  fellow  with  the 
sword,  who  had  previously  offered  some  resistance.  Quentin, 
whom  fortune  seemed  at  this  period  to  have  chosen  for  the 
butt  of  her  shafts,  was  at  the  same  time  seized  by  the  soldiers, 
and  his  arms,  in  spite  of  his  remonstrances,  bound  down 
with  a  cord  ;  those  who  apprehended  him  showing  a  readiness 
and  despatch  in  the  operation  which  proved  them  to  be  no 
novices  in  matters  of  police. 

Looking  anxiously  to  the  leader  of  the  horsemen,  from 
whom  he  hoped  to  obtain  liberty,  Quentin  knew  not  exactly 
whether  to  be  pleased  or  alarmed  upon  recognizing  in  him 
the  down-looking  and  silent  companion  of  Ma'tre  Pierre. 
True,  whatever  crime  these  strangers  might  be  accused  of, 
this  officer  might  know,  from  the  history  of  the  morning, 
that  he,  Durward,  had  no  connection  with  them  whatever ; 
but  it  was  a  more  difficult  question  whether  this  sullen  man 
would  be  either  a  favorable  judge  or  a  willing  witness  in  his 
behalf,  and  he  felt  doubtful  whether  he  would  mend  his 
condition  by  making  any  direct  application  to  him. 

But  there  was  little  leisure  for  hesitation.  "Trois- 
Eschelles  and  Petit-Andre,^'  said  the  down-looking  officer 
to  two  of  his  band,  '^  these  same  trees  stand  here  quite  con- 
venient. I  will  teach  these  misbelieving,  thieving  sorcerers 
to  interfere  with  the  King's  justice,  when  it  has  visited  any 
of  their  accursed  race.  Dismount,  my  children,  and  do  your 
office  briskly." 

Trois-Eschelles  and  Petit- Andre  were  in  an  instant  on  foot, 
and  Quentin  observed  that  they  had  each,  at  the  crupper 
and  pommel  of  his  saddle,  a  coil  or  two  of  ropes,  which  they 
hastily  undid,  and  showed  that,  in  fact,  each  coil  formed  a 
halter,  with  the  fatal  noose  adjusted,  ready  for  execution. 
The  blood  ran  cold  in  Quentin's  veins  when  he  saw  three 
cords  selected,  and  perceived  that  it  was  proposed  to  put  one 
around  his  own  neck.  He  called  on  the  officer  loudly,  re- 
minded him  of  their  meeting  that  morning,  claimed  the 
right  of  a  free-born  Scotsman,  in  a  friendly  and  allied  coun- 
trv,  and  denied  any  knowledge  of  the  persons  along  with 
wtom  he  was  seized,  or  of  their  misdeeds. 

The  officer  whom  Durward  thus  addressed  scarce  deigned 


QUENTIN  DUE  WARD  61 

to  look  at  him  while  he  was  speaking,  and  took  no  notice 
whatever  of  the  claim  he  preferred  to  prior  acquaintance. 
He  barely  turned  bo  one  or  two  of  the  peasants  who  were 
now  come  forward,  either  to  volunteer  their  evidence  against 
the  prisoners  or  out  of  curiosity,  and  said  gruffly,  "Was 
yonder  young  fellow  with  the  vagabonds  ?  *' 

*'  That  he  was,  sir,  and  it  please  your  noble  provostship," 
answered  one  of  the  clowns  ;  ''  he  was  the  very  first  blas- 
phemously to  cut  down  the  rascal  whom  his  Majesty's  justice 
most  deservedly  hung  up,  as  we  told  your  worship/' 

''  ril  swear  by  God  and  St.  Martin  of  Tours  to  have  seen 
him  with  their  gang,''  said  another,  ''  when  they  pillaged 
our  met  air  ie." 

*'Nay,  but,  father,"  said  a  boy,  "yonder  heathen  was 
black,  and  this  youth  is  fair  ;  yonder  one  had  short  curled 
hair,  and  this  hath  long  fair  locks." 

"  Ay,  child,"  said  the  peasant,  "and perhaps  you  will  say 
yonder  one  had  a  green  coat  and  this  a  gray  jerkin.  But 
his  worship,  the  provost,  knows  that  they  can  change  their 
complexions  as  easily  as  their  jerkins,  so  that  I  am  still 
minded  he  was  the  same." 

"  It  is  enough  that  you  have  seen  him  intermeddle  with 
the  course  of  the  King's  justice,  by  attempting  to  recover 
an  executed  traitor,"  said  the  officer.  "  Trois-Eschelles  and 
Petit-Andre,  despatch." 

"  Stay,  seignior  officer  !"  exclaimed  the  youth,  in  mortal 
agony — "hear  me  speak — let  me  not  die  guiltlessly;  my 
blood  will  be  required  of  you  by  my  countrymen  in  this 
world,  and  by  Heaven's  justice  in  that  which  is  to  follow." 

"  I  will  answer  for  my  actions  in  both,"  said  the  provost, 
coldly,  and  made  a  sign  with  his  left  hand  to  the  execution- 
ers ;  then,  with  a  smile  of  triumphant  malice,  touched  v/ith 
his  forefinger  his  right  arm,  which  hung  suspended  in  a 
scarf,  disabled  probably  by  the  blow  which  Durward  had 
dealt  him  that  morning. 

"Miserable,  vindictive  wretch  !"  answered  Quentin,  per- 
suaded by  that  action  that  private  revenge  was  the  sole 
motive  of  this  mai  ^s  rigor,  and  that  no  mercy  whatever  was 
to  be  expected  from  him. 

"  The  poor  youth  raves,"  said  the  functionary  ;  "  speak  a 
word  of  comfort  to  him  ere  he  make  his  transit,  Trois- 
Eschelles  ;  thou  art  a  comfortable  man  in  such  cases,  when 
a  confessor  is  not  to  be  had.  Give  him  one  minute  of  ghostly 
advice,  and  despatch  matters  in  the  next.  I  must  proceed 
on  the  roundg.    Soldiers,  follow  me  I " 


62  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

The  provost  rode  on,  followed  by  his  guard,  excepting  two 
or  three  who  were  left  to  assist  in  the  execution.  The  un- 
happy youth  cast  after  him  an  eye  almost  darkened  by  de- 
spair, and  thought  he  heard,  in  every  tramp  of  his  horse's 
retreating  hoofs,  the  last  slight  chance  of  his  safety  vanish. 
He  looked  around  him  in  agony,  and  was  surprised,  even  in 
that  moment,  to  see  the  stoical  indifference  of  his  fellow- 
prisoners.  They  had  previously  testified  every  sign  of  fear, 
and  made  every  effort  to  escape  ;  but  now,  when  secured, 
and  destined  apparently  to  inevitable  death,  they  awaited  its 
arrival  with  the  utmost  composure.  The  scene  of  fate  be- 
fore them  gave,  perhaps,  a  more  yellow  tinge  to  their  swar- 
thy cheeks ;  but  it  neither  agitated  their  features  nor 
quenched  the  stubborn  haughtiness  of  their  eye.  They 
seemed  like  foxes,  which,  after  all  their  wiles  and  artful  at- 
tempts at  escape  are  exhausted,  die  with  a  silent  and  sullen 
fortitude,  which  wolves  and  bears,  the  fiercer  objects  of  the 
chase,  do  not  exhibit. 

They  were  undaunted  by  the  conduct  of  the  fatal  execu- 
tioners, who  went  about  their  work  with  more  deliberation 
than  their  master  had  recommended,  and  which  probably 
arose  from  their  haviug  acquired  by  habit  a  kind  of  pleasure 
in  the  discharge  of  their  horrid  office.  We  pause  an  instant 
to  describe  tliem,  because  under  a  tyranny,  whether  despotic 
or  popular,  the  character  of  the  hangman  becomes  a  subject 
of  grave  importance. 

These  functionaries  were  essentially  different  in  their  ap- 
pearance and  manners.  Louis  used  to  call  them  Democritus 
and  Heraclitus,  and  their  master,  the  provost,  termed  them 
Jean  qui  pleure  and  Jean  qui  rit. 

Trois-Eschelles  was  a  tall,  thin,  ghastly  man,  with  a 
peculiar  gravity  of  visage,  and  a  large  rosary  round  his  neck, 
the  use  of  which  he  was  accustomed  piously  to  offer  to  those 
sufferers  on  whom  he  did  his  duty.  He  had  one  or  two 
Latin  texts  continually  in  his  mouth  on  the  nothingness  and 
vanity  of  human  life  ;  and,  had  it  been  regular  to  have  en- 
joyed such  a  plurality,  he  might  have  held  the  office  of  con- 
fessor to  the  jail  in  commendam  with  that  of  executioner. 
Petit- Andre,  on  the  contrary,  was  a  joyous-looking,  round, 
active  little  fellow,  who  rolled  about  in  execution  of  his  duty 
as  if  it  were  the  most  diverting  occupation  in  the  world. 
He  seemed  to  have  a  sort  of  fond  affection  for  his  victims, 
and  always  spoke  of  them  in  kindly  and  affectionate  terms. 
They  were  his  poor  honest  fellows,  his  pretty  dears,  his  gos- 
sips,  his  good  old  fathers,  as  their  age  or  sex  might  be ;  and 


qUENTIN  DURWABD  63 

as  Trois-Eschelles  endeavored  to  inspire  them  with  a  philo- 
sophical or  religious  regard  to  futurity.  Petit- Andr6  seldom 
failed  to  refresh  them  with  a  jest  or  two,  as  if  to  induce 
them  to  pass  from  life  as  something  that  was  ludicrous,  con- 
temptible, and  not  worthy  of  serious  consideration. 

I  cannot  tell  why  or  wherefore  it  was,  but  these  two  excel- 
lent persons,  notwithstanding  the  variety  of  their  talents  and 
the  rare  occurrence  of  such  among  persons  of  their  profession, 
were  both  more  utterly  destested  than,  perhaps,  any  crea- 
tures of  their  kind,  whether  before  or  since  ;  and  the  only 
doubt  of  those  who  knew  aught  of  them  was,  whether  the 
grave  and  pathetic  Trois-Eschelles  or  the  frisky,  comic,  alert 
Petit- Andre  *  was  the  object  of  the  greatest  fear  or  of  the 
deepest  execration.  It  is  certain  they  bore  the  palm  in  both 
particulars  over  every  hangman  in  France,  unless  it  were  per- 
haps their  master,  Tristan  THermite,  the  renowned  provost- 
marshal,  or  his  master,  Louis  XI. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  these  reflections  were  of 
Quentin  Durward's  making.  Life,  death,  time,  and  eternity 
were  swimming  before  his  eyes — a  stunning  and  overwhelm- 
ing prospect,  from  which  human  nature  recoiled  in  its  weak- 
ness, though  human  pride  would  fain  have  borne  up.  He 
addressed  himself  to  the  God  of  his  fathers ;  and  when  he 
did  so,  the  little  rude  and  unroofed  chapel,  which  now  held 
almost  all  his  race  but  himself,  rushed  on  his  recollection. 
**  Our  feudal  enemies  gave  my  kindred  graves  in  our  own 
land,"  he  thought,  **but  I  must  feed  the  ravens  and  kites  of 
a  foreign  land,  like  an  excommunicated  felon  ! "  The  tears 
gushed  involuntarily  from  his  eyes.  Trois-Eschelles,  touch- 
mg  one  shoulder,  gravely  congratulated  him  on  his  Heavenly 
disposition  for  death,  and  pathetically  exclaiming,  ^'Beati 
qui  in  Domiiio  moriuntur ,'*  remarked  the  soul  was  happy 
that  left  the  body  while  the  tear  was  in  the  eye.  Petit- 
Andre,  slapping  the  other  shoulder,  called  out,  *'  Courage, 
my  fair  son  !  since  you  must  begin  the  dance,  let  the  ball 
open  gaily,  for  all  the  rebecs  are  in  tune,"  twitching  the  hal- 
ter at  the  same  time,  to  give  point  to  his  joke.  As  the 
youth  turned  his  dismayed  looks  first  on  one  and  then  on  the 
other,  they  made  their  meaning  plainer  by  gently  urging  him 
forward  to  the  fatal  tree,  and  bidding  him  be  of  good 
courage,  for  it  would  be  over  in  a  moment. 

In  this  fatal  predicament,  the  youth  cast  a  distracted  look 
around  him.  *'  Is  there  any  good  Christian  who  hears  me,'* 
he  said,  "  that  will  tell  Ludovic  Lesly  of  the  Scottish  Guard, 

*  See  Note  13. 


34  WA  VERLET  NO  VEL8, 

called  in  this  country  Le  Balafre,  that  his  nephew  is  here 
basely  murdered  ?  " 

The  words  were  spoken  in  good  time,  for  an  archer  of  the 
Scottish  Guard,  attracted  by  the  preparations  for  the  execu- 
tion, was  standing  by,  with  one  or  two  other  chance  passen- 
gers, to  witness  what  was  passing. 

"  Take  heed  what  you  do,'^  he  said  to  the  executioners  ; 
*'  if  this  young  man  be  of  Scottish  birth,  I  will  not  permit  him 
to  have  foul  play/' 

^'  Heaven  forbid,  sir  cavalier,"  said  Trois-Eschelles  ;  ^'  but 
we  must  obey  our  orders,"  drawing  Durward  forward  by  one 
arm. 

"  The  shortest  play  is  ever  the  fairest,"  said  Petit- Andre, 
pulling  him  onward  by  the  other. 

But  Quentin  had  heard  words  of  comfort,  and,  exerting 
his  strength,  he  suddenly  shook  off  both  the  finishers  of  the 
law,  and,  with  his  arms  still  bound,  ran  to  the  Scottish 
archer.  *^  Stand  by  me,  countryman,"  he  said  in  his  own 
language,  "  for  the  love  of  Scotland  and  St.  Andrew  !  I  am 
innocent — I  am  your  own  native  landsman.  Stand  by  me, 
as  you  shall  answer  at  the  last  day  ! " 

''^  By  St.  Andrew  !  they  shall  make  at  you  through  me/^ 
said  the  archer,  and  unsheathed  his  sword. 

^'  Cut  my  bonds,  countryman,"  said  Quentin,  **  and  I  will 
do  something  for  myself." 

This  was  done  with  a  touch  of  the  archer's  weapon  ;  and 
the  liberated  captive,  springing  suddenly  on  one  of  the 
provost's  guard,  wrested  from  him  a  halberd  with  which 
he  was  armed.  ''And  now,"  he  said,  "come  on,  if  you 
dare!" 

The  two  officers  whispered  together. 

"Ride  thou  after  the  provost-marshal,"  said  Trois-Es- 
chelles, "  and  I  will  detain  them  here,  if  I  can.  Soldiers  of 
the  provost's  guard,  stand  to  your  arms." 

Petit- Andre  mounted  his  horse  and  left  the  field,  and  the 
other  marshals-men  in  attendance  drew  together  so  hastily  at 
the  command  of  Trois-Eschelles,  that  they  suffe-red  the  other 
two  prisoners  to  make  their  escape  during  the  confusion. 
Perhaps  they  were  not  very  anxious  to  detain  them  ;  for 
they  had  of  late  been  sated  with  the  blood  of  such  wretches, 
and,  like  other  ferocious  animals,  were,  through  long  slaugh- 
ter, become  tired  of  carnage.  But  the  pretext  was,  that 
they  thought  themselves  immediately  called  upon  to  attend 
to  the  safety  of  Trois-Eschelles  ;  for  there  was  a  jealousy 
which  occasionally  led  to  open  quarrels  betwixt  the  Scot- 


*'*And  now,'  he  said,  *  come  on,  if  you  iatc* 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  65 

tish  Archers  and  the  marshaFs  guards,  who  executed  the 
orders  of  their  provost. 

^^We  are  strong  enough  to  beat  the  proud  Scots  twice 
over,  if  it  be  your  pleasure/'  said  one  of  the  soldiers  to  Trois- 
Eschelles. 

But  that  cautious  official  made  a  sign  to  him  to  remain 
quiet,  and  addressed  the  Scottish  archer  with  great  civility. 
*'  Surely,  sir,  this  is  a  great  insult  to  the  provost-marshal, 
that  you  should  presume  to  interfere  with  the  course  of  the 
King's  justice,  duly  and  lawfully  committed  to  his  charge  ; 
and  it  is  no  act  of  justice  to  me,  who  am  in  lawful  possession 
of  my  criminal.  Neither  is  it  a  well-meant  kindness  to  the 
youth  himself,  seeing  that  fifty  opportunities  of  hanging  him 
may  occur,  without  his  being  found  in  so  happy  a  state  of 
preparation  as  he  was  before  your  ill-advised  interference." 

''If  my  young  countryman,"  said  the  Scot,  smiling,  ''be 
of  opinion  I  have  done  him  an  injury,  I  will  return  him  to 
your  charge  without  a  word  more  dispute." 

"No,  no! — for  the  love  of  Heaven,  no!"  exclaimed 
Quentin.  "  I  would  rather  you  swept  my  head  off  with  your 
long  sword  ;  it  would  better  become  my  birth  than  to  die  by 
the  hands  of  such  a  foul  churl." 

"  Hear  how  he  revileth  ! "  said  the  finisher  of  the  law. 
"  Alas  !  how  soon  our  best  resolutions  pass  away  !  He  was 
in  a  blessed  frame  for  departure,  but  now,  and  in  two  min- 
utes he  has  become  a  contemner  of  authorities." 

"  Tell  me  at  once,"  said  the  archer,  "  what  has  this  young 
man  done  ?  " 

"  Interfered,"  answered  Trois-Eschelles,  with  some  earn- 
estness, "  to  take  down  the  dead  body  of  a  criminal,  when 
the Jleur-de-lys  was  marked  on  the  tree  where  he  was  hung 
with  my  own  proper  hand." 

'*  How  is  this,  young  man  ?  "  said  the  archer  ;  "  how  came 
you  to  have  committed  such  an  offense  ?  " 

"As  I  desire  your  protection,"  answered  Durward,  "I  will 
tell  you  the  truth  as  if  I  were  at  confession.  I  saw  a  man 
struggling  on  the  tree,  and  I  went  to  cut  him  down  out  of 
mere  humanity.  I  thought  neither  of  jleur-de-lys  nor  of 
clove-gilliflower,  and  had  no  more  idea  of  offending  the  King 
of  France  than  our  father  the  Pope." 

"  What  a  murrain  had  you  to  do  with  the  dead  body, 
then  ?  "  said  the  archer.  "  You'll  see  them  hanging,  in  the 
rear  of  this  gentleman,  like  grapes  on  every  tree,  and  you  will 
have  enough  to  do  in  this  country  if  you  go  a-gleaning  after 
the  hangman.     However,  I  will,  not  q^uit  a  countryman'^ 


86  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

cause  if  I  can  help  it.     Hark  ye,  master  marshals- man,  you 
see  this  is  entirely  a  mistake.     You  should  have  some  com- 

Eassion  on  so  young  a  traveler.     In  our  country  at  home  he 
as  not  accustomed  to  see  such  active  proceedings  as  yours 
and  your  master's." 

*'  Not  for  want  of  need  of  them,  seignior  archer, '^  said 
Petit- Andre,  who  returned  at  this  moment.  "  Stand  fast, 
Trois-Eschelles,  for  here  comes  the  provost- marshal  ;  we 
shall  presently  see  how  he  will  relish  having  his  work  taken 
out  of  his  hand  before  it  is  finished." 

*' And  in  good  time,"  said  the  archer,  "  here  come  some 
of  my  comrades." 

Accordingly,  as  the  Provost  Tristan  rode  up  with  his 
patrol  on  one  side  of  the  little  hill  which  was  the  scene  of 
the  altercation,  four  or  five  Scottish  Archers  came  as  hastily 
up  on  the  other,  and  at  their  head  the  Balafre  himself. 

Upon  this  urgency,  Leslie  showed  none  of  that  indifference 
towards  his  nephew  of  which  Quentin  had  in  his  heart  accused 
him  ;  for  he  no  sooner  saw  his  comrade  and  Durward  stand- 
ing upon  their  defense  than  lie  exclaimed,  "  Cunningham, 
I  thank  thee.  Gentleman — comrades,  lend  me  your  aid.  It 
is  a  young  Scottish  gentleman — my  nephew.  Lindesay — 
Guthrie — ^Tyrie,  draw  and  strike  in  ! " 

There  was  now  every  prospect  of  a  desperate  scuffle  be- 
tween the  parties,  who  were  not  so  disproportioned  in  num- 
bers but  that  the  better  arms  of  the  Scottish  cavaliers  gave 
them  an  equal  chance  of  victory.  But  the  provost-marshal, 
either  doubting  the  issue  of  the  conflict  or  aware  that  it 
would  be  disagreeable  to  the  King,  made  a  sign  to  his  fol- 
lowers to  forbear  from  violence,  while  he  demanded  of  Bal- 
afre, who  now  put  himself  forward  as  the  head  of  the  other 
party,  "  What  he,  a  cavalier  of  the  King's  Body-Guard,  pur- 
posed by  opposing  the  execution  of  a  criminal  ?  " 

*'  I  deny  that  I  do  so,"  answered  the  Balafre.  ''  St. 
Martin  !  there  is,  I  think,  some  difference  between  the  ex- 
ecution of  a  criminal  and  the  slaughter  of  my  own  nephew  ?  " 

"  Your  nephew  may  be  a  criminal  as  well  as  another,  seig- 
nior," said  the  provost-marshal;  "aud  every  stranger  in 
France  is  amenable  to  the  laws  of  France." 

"  Yes,  but  we  have  privileges,  we  Scottish  Archers,"  said 
Balafre  ;  **  have  we  not,  comrades  ?" 

''  Yes — yes,"  they  all  exclaimed  together.  '^  Privileges — 
privileges  !  Long  live  King  Louis — ^long  live  the  bold  Bal- 
afre— long  live  the  Scottish  Guard — and  death  to  all  who 
yould  infringe  our  privileges  ! " 


Q  VtlNTlN  t)  UR  WA  ttt>  tt 

'*  Take  reason  with  you,  gentlemen  cavaliers/'  said  the 
provost-marshal ;  "  consider  my  commission/' 

"  We  will  have  no  reason  at  your  hand/'  said  Cunning- 
ham ;  ^'  our  own  officer  shall  do  us  reason.  We  will  be 
judged  by  the  King's  grace,  or  by  our  own  captain,  now  that 
the  Lord  High  Constable  is  not  in  presence/' 

^'And  we  will  be  hanged  by  none/'  said  Lindesay,  ''but 
Sandie  Wilson,  the  auld  marshals-man  of  our  ain  body/' 

"It would  be  a  positive  cheating  of  Sandie,  who  is  as 
Qonest  a  man  as  ever  tied  noose  upon  hemp,  did  we  give  way 
to  any  other  proceeding,  "said  the  Balafre.  "  Were  I  to  be 
nanged  myself,  no  other  should  tie  tippet  about  my  craig/' 

"But  here  ye,"  said  the  provost-marshal,  "this  young 
lellow  belongs  not  to  you,  and  cannot  share  what  you  call 
your  privileges/' 

"  What  we  call  our  privileges  all  shall  admit  to  be  such," 
said  Cunningham. 

"  We  will  not  hear  them  questioned  !"  was  the  universal 
cry  of  the  archers. 

"  Ye  are  mad,  my  masters,"  said  Tristan  I'Hermite.  "  No 
one  disputes  your  priveliges ;  but  this  youth  is  not  one  of 

"  He  is  my  nephew,"  said  the  Balafre,  with  a  triumphant 
air. 

"  But  no  Archer  of  the  Guard,  I  think,"  retorted  Tristan 
I'Hermite. 

The  archers  looked  on  each  other  in  some  uncertainty. 

"  Stand  to  it  yet,  comrade,"  whispered  Cunningham  to 
Balafr6.     ''Say  he  is  engaged  with  us." 

"  St.  Martin  I  you  say  well,  fair  countryman,"  answered 
Lesly  ;  and,  raising  his  voice,  swore  that  he  had  that  day  en- 
rolled his  kinsman  as  one  of  his  own  retinue. 

This  declaration  was  a  decisive  argument. 

"  It  is  well,  gentlemen,"  said  the  Provost  Tristan,  who 
was  aware  of  the  King's  nervous  apprehension  of  disaffection 
creeping  in  among  his  Guards.  "You  know,  as  you  say, 
your  privileges,  and  it  is  not  my  duty  to  have  brawls  with 
the  King's  Guards,  if  it  is  to  be  avoided.  But  I  will  report 
this  matter  for  the  King's  own  decision  ;  and  I  would  have 
you  to  be  aware  that,  in  doing  so,  I  act  more  mildly  than 
perhaps  my  duty  warrants  me." 

So  saying  he  put  his  troop  into  motion,  while  the  archers, 
remaining  on  the  spot,  held  a  hasty  consultation  what  was 
next  to  be  done. 

*'We  must  report  the    matter  to  Lord   Crawford,   our 


68  1VAVt:ltLEt  NOV^L^ 

captain,  in  the  first  place,  and  have  the  young  fellow's  name 

put  on  the  roll." 

*'  But,  gentlemen,  and  my  worthy  friends  and  preservers,'* 
said  Quentin,  with  some  hesitation,  ^'  I  have  not  yet  deter- 
mined whether  to  take  service  with  you  or  no." 

"  Then  settle  in  your  own  mind,"  said  his  uncle,  *'  whether 
you  choose  to  do  so  or  be  hanged  ;  for  I  promise  you  that, 
nephew  of  mine  as  you  are,  I  see  no  other  chance  of  your 
'scaping  the  gallows." 

This  was  an  unanswerable  argument,  and  reduced  Quentin 
at  once  to  acquiesce  in  what  he  might  have  otherwise  con- 
sidered as  no  very  agreeable  proposal ;  but  the  recent  escape 
from  the  halter,  which  had  been  actually  around  his  neck, 
would  probably  have  reconciled  him  to  a  worse  alternative 
than  was  proposed. 

"  He  must  go  home  with  us  to  our  caserne"  said  Cunning- 
ham ;  "  there  is  no  safety  for  him  out  of  our  bounds,  whilst 
these  man  hunters  are  prowling  about." 

*'May  I  not  then  abide  for  this  night  at  the  hostelry  where 
I  breakfasted,  fair  uncle  ?  "  said  the  youth,  thinking,  per- 
haps, like  many  a  new  recruit,  that  even  a  single  night  of 
freedom  was  something  gaind. 

''Yes,  fair  nephew,"  answered  his  uncle,  ironically,  *'  that 
we  may  have  the  pleasure  of  fishing  you  out  of  some  canal 
or  moat,  or  perhaps  out  of  a  loop  of  the  Loire,  knit  up  in  a 
sack,  for  the  greater  convenience  of  swimming,  for  that  is 
like  to  be  the  end  on't.  The  provost-marshal  smiled  on  us 
when  we  parted,"  continued  he,  addressing  Cunningham, 
*'  and  that  is  a  sign  his  thoughts  were  dangerous." 

"  I  care  not  for  his  danger,"  said  Cunningham  ;  "  such 
game  as  we  are  beyond  his  bird-bolts.  But  I  would  have  thee 
tell  the  whole  to  the  Devil's  Oliver,  who  is  always  a  good 
friend  to  the  Scottish  Guard,  and  will  see  Father  Louis  be- 
fore the  provost  can,  for  he  is  to  shave  him  to-morrow." 

"But  hark  you,"  said  Balafre,  ''it  is  ill  going  to  Oliver 
empty  handed,  and  I  am  as  bare  as  the  birch  in  December." 

''  So  are  we  all,"  said  Cunningham  ;  "  Oliver  must  not 
scruple  to  take  our  Scottish  words  for  once.  "We  will  make 
up  something  handsome  among  us  against  the  next  pay-day  ; 
and  if  he  expects  to  share,  let  me  tell  you,  the  pay-day  will 
come  about  all  the  sooner." 

''And  now  for  the  chdteau,"  said  Balafr6  ;  "and  my 
nephew  shall  tell  us  by  the  way  how  he  brought  the  provost- 
marshal  on  his  shoulders,  that  we  may  know  how  to  frame 
our  report  both  to  Crawford  and  Oliver." 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  ENROLMENT 

Justice  of  Peace.    Here,  hand  me  down  the  statute- 
read  the  articles — 
Swear,  kiss  the  book — subscribe,  and  be  a  hero  ; 
Drawing  a  portion  from  the  public  stock 
For  deeds  of  valor  to  be  done  hereafter — 
Sixpence  per  day,  subsistence  and  arrears. 

2  he  Recruiting  Officer, 

An  attendant  upon  the  archers  having  been  dismounted, 
Quentin  Durward  was  accommodated  with  his  horse,  and,  in 
company  of  his  martial  countrymen,  rode  at  a  round  pace 
towards  the  Castle  of  Plessis,  about  to  become,  although  on 
his  own  part  involuntarily,  an  inhabitant  of  that  gloomy 
fortress,  the  outside  of  which  had,  that  morning,  struck  him 
with  so  much  surprise. 

In  the  meanwhile,  in  answer  to  his  uncle's  repeated  inter- 
rogations, he  gave  him  an  exact  account  of  the  accident 
which  had,  that  morning,  brought  him  into  so  much  danger. 
Although  he  himself  saw  nothing  in  his  narrative  save  what 
was  affecting,  he  found  it  was  received  with  much  laughter 
by  his  escort. 

''  And  yet  it  is  no  good  jest  either,"  said  his  uncle,  ''  for 
what,  in  the  devil's  name,  could  lead  the  senseless  boy  to 
meddle  with  the  body  of  a  cursed  misbelieving  Jewish  Moor- 
ish pagan  ! '' 

'^  Had  he  quarreled  with  the  marshals-men  about  a  pretty 
wench,  as  Michael  of  Moffat  did,  there  had  been  more  sense 
in  it,"  said  Cunningham. 

''  But  I  think  it  touches  our  honor,  that  Tristan  and  his 
people  pretend  to  confound  our  Scottish  bonnets  with  these 
pilfering  vagabonds'  tocques  and  turbands,  as  they  call 
them,"  said  Lindesay.  ''  If  they  have  not  eyes  to  see  the 
difference,  they  must  be  taught  by  rule  of  hand.  But  it's  my 
belief,  Tristan  but  pretends  to  mistake,  that  he  may  snap 
up  the  kindly  Scots  that  come  over  to  see  their  kinsfolks." 

''May  I  ask,  kinsman,"  said  Quentin,  "what  sort  of 
people  these  are  of  whom  you  speak  ?  " 

"  In  troth  you  may  ask^"  said  his  uncle,  "  but  I  know  not, 


70  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

fair  nephew,  who  is  able  to  answer  you.  Not  I,  I  am  sure, 
although  I  know  it  may  be,  as  much  as  other  people  ;  but 
they  have  appeared  in  this  land  within  a  year  or  two,  just  as 
a  flight  of  locusts  might  do/* 

*' Ay/' said  Lindesay,  ^' and  Jacques  Bonhomme — that  is 
our  name  for  the  peasant,  young  man — you  will  learn  our 
way  of  talk  in  time — honest  Jacques,  I  say,  cares  little  what 
wind  either  brings  them  or  the  locusts,  so  he  but  knows  any 
gale  that  would  carry  them  away  again/' 

''  Do  they  do  so  much  evil  ?  "  asked  the  young  man. 

"  Evil !  why,  boy,  they  are  heathens,  or  Jews,  or  Mahom- 
medans  at  the  least,  and  neither  worship  Our  Lady  nor  the 
saints  (crossing  himself),  and  steal  what  they  can  lay  hands 
on,  and  sing,  and  tell  fortunes,''  added  Cunningham. 

'*  And  they  say  there  are  some  goodly  wenches  amongst 
these  women,"  said  Guthrie  ;  '*  but  Cunningham  knows  that 
best." 

'*  How,  brother  ! "  said  Cunningham  ;  *'  I  trust  ye  mean  me 
no  reproach  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  said  ye  none,"  answered  Guthrie. 

'^  I  will  be  judged  by  the  company,"  said  Cunningham. 
'*  Ye  said  as  much  as  that  I,  a  Scottish  gentleman,  and  living 
within  pale  of  holy  church,  had  a  fair  friend  among  these 
off-scourings  of  heathenesse." 

"Nay — nay,"  said  Balafre,  "he  did  but  jest.  We  will 
have  no  quarrels  among  comrades/' 

"We  must  have  no  such  jesting  then,"  said  Cunningham, 
murmuring  as  if  he  had  been  speaking  to  his  own  beard. 

"  Be  there  such  vagabonds  in  other  lands  than  France  ?" 
said  Lindesay. 

"  Ay,  in  good  sooth,  are  there  :  tribes  of  them  have  ap- 
peared in  Germany,  and  in  Spain,  and  in  England,"  answered 
Balafr^.  "  By  the  blessing  of  good  St.  Andrew,  Scotland 
is  free  of  them  yet." 

"Scotland,"  said  Cunningham,  "is  too  cold  a  country  for 
locusts,  and  too  poor  a  country  for  thieves." 

"  Or  perhaps  John  Highlander  will  suffer  no  thieves  to 
thrive  there  but  his  own,"  said  Guthrie. 

"  I  let  you  all'  know,"  said  Balafre,  "  that  I  come  from  the 
braes  of  Angus,  and  have  gentle  Highland  kin  in  Glen  Isla, 
and  I  will  not  have  the  Highlanders  slandered." 

"You  will  not  deny  that  they  are  cattle  lif ters  ? "  said 
Guthrie. 

**  To  drive  a  spreagh  or  so  is  no  thievery,"  said  Balafre, 
*'  and  that  I  will  maintain  when  and  how  you  dare/' 


QUENTIN  BUR  WARD  71 

''For  shame,  comrade/*  said  Cunningham,  "who  quarrels 
now  ?  The  young  man  should  not  see  suoli  mad  miscon- 
Btruction.  Come,  here  we  are  at  the  chateau.  I  will  hestow 
a  runlet  of  wine  to  have  a  rouse  in  friendship,  and  drink  to 
Scotland,  Highland'  and  Lowland  both,  if  you  will  meet  me 
at  dinner  at  my  quarters/' 

*'x\greed — agreed,^'  said  Balafre  ;  "and  I  will  bestow 
another,  to  wash  away  unkindness,  and  to  drink  a  health  to 
my  nephew  on  his  lirst  entrance  to  our  corps." 

At  their  approach,  the  wicket  was  opened  and  the  draw- 
bridge fell.  One  by  one  they  entered  ;  but  when  Quentin 
appeared,  the  sentinels  crossed  their  pikes,  and  commanded 
him  to  stand,  while  bows  were  bent,  and  harquebusses  aimed 
at  him  from  the  walls — a  rigor  of  vigilance,  used  notwith- 
standing that  the  young  stranger  came  in  company  of 
a  party  of  the  garrison,  nay  of  the  very  body  which  furnished 
the  sentinels  who  were  then  upon  duty. 

Le  Balafre,  who  had  remained  by  his  nephew's  side  on 
purpose,  gave  the  necessary  explanations,  and,  after  some 
considerable  hesitation  and  delay,  the  youth  was  conveyed 
under  a  strong  guard  to  the  Lord  Crawford's  apartment. 

This  Scottish  nobleman  was  one  of  the  last  relics  of  the 
gallant  band  of  Scottish  lords  and  knights  who  had  so  long 
and  so  truly  served  Charles  VI.  in  those  bloody  wars  which 
decided  the  independence  of  the  French  crown  and  the  ex- 
pulsion of  the  English.  He  had  fought,  when  a  boy,  abreast 
with  Douglas  and  with  Buchan,  had  ridden  beneath  the 
banner  of  the  Maid  of  Arc,  and  was  perhaps  one  of  the  last 
of  those  associates  of  Scottish  chivalry  who  had  so  willingly 
drawn  their  swords  for  the  fleur-de-lys  against  their  ''auld 
enemies  of  England.''  Changes  which  had  taken  place  in  the 
Scottish  kingdom,  and  perhaps  his  having  become  habituated 
to  French  climate  and  manners,  had  induced  the  old  baron 
to  resign  all  thoughts  of  returning  to  his  native  country,  the 
rather  that  the  high  office  which  he  held  in  the  household  of 
Louis,  and  his  own  frank  and  loyal  character,  had  gained  a 
considerable  ascendency  over  the  King,  who,  though  in 
general  no  ready  believer  in  human  virtue  or  honor,  trusted 
and  confided  in  those  of  the  Lord  Crawford,  and  allowed 
him  the  greater  influence,  because  he  was  never  known 
to  interfere  excepting  in  matters  which  concerned  his 
charge. 

Balafre  and  Cunningham  followed  Durward  and  the  guard 
to  the  apartment  of  their  officer,  by  whose  dignified  appear- 
ance, as  well  as  with  the  respect  paid  to  him  by  these  proud 


72  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

soldiers,  who  seemed  to  respect  no  one  else,  the  young  man 
was  much  and  strongly  impressed. 

Lord  Crawford  was  tall,  and  through  advanced  age  had 
become  gaunt  and  thin  ;  yet  retaining  in  his  sinews  the 
strength,  at  least,  if  not  the  elasticity,  of  youth,  he  was  able 
to  endure  the  weight  of  his  armor  during  a  march  as  well  as 
the  youngest  man  who  rode  in  his  band.  He  was  hard- 
favored,  with  a  scarred  and  weather-beaten  countenance,  and 
an  eye  that  had  looked  upon  death  as  his  playfellow  in  thirty 
pitched  battles,  but  which  nevertheless  expressed  a  calm 
contempt  of  danger,  rather  than  the  ferocious  courage  of  a 
mercenary  soldier.  His  tall,  erect  figure  was  at  present 
wrapped  in  a  loose  chamber-gown,  secured  around  him  by 
his  bulf  belt,  in  which  was  suspended  his  richly-hilted  pon- 
iard. He  had  round  his  neck  the  collar  and  badge  of  the  order 
of  St.  Michael.  He  sat  upon  a  couch  covered  with  deer's 
hide,  and  with  spectacles  on  his  nose  (then  a  recent  inven- 
tion) was  laboring  to  read  a  huge  manuscript,  called  the 
Hosier  de  la  Guerre — a  code  of  military  and  civil  policy  which 
Louis  had  compiled  for  the  benefit  of  his  son  the  Dauphin, 
and  upon  which  he  was  desirous  to  have  the  opinion  of  the 
experienced  Scottish  warrior. 

Lord  Crawford  laid  the  book  somewhat  peevishly  aside 
upon  the  entrance  of  these  unexpected  visitors,  and  de- 
manded, in  his  broad  national  dialect,  ''  What,  in  the  foul 
fiend's  name,  they  lacked  now  ?  " 

Le  Balafre,  with  more  respect  than  perhaps  he  would 
have  showfl  to  Louis  himself,  stated  at  full  length  the  cir- 
cumstances in  which  his  nephew  was  placed,  and  humbly 
requested  his  lordship's  protection.  Lord  Crawford  listened 
very  attentively.  He  could  not  but  smile  at  the  simplicity 
with  which  the  youth  had  interfered  in  behalf  of  the  hanged 
criminal,  but  he  shook  his  head  at  the  account  which  he 
received  of  the  ruffle  betwixt  the  Scottish  Archers  and  the 
provost-marshal's  guard.* 

"  How  often,"  he  said,  "  will  you  bring  me  such  ill-winded 
pirns  to  ravel  out  ?  How  often  must  I  tell  you,  and  espe- 
cially both  you,  Ludovic  Lesly,  and  you,  Archie  Cunning- 
ham, that  the  foreign  soldier  should  bear  himself  modestly 
and  decorously  towards  the  people  of  the  country,  if  you 
would  not  have  the  whole  dogs  of  the  town  at  your  heels  ? 
However,  if  you  must  have  a  bargain, f  I  would  rather  it 
were  with  that  loon  of  a  provost  than  any  one  else ;  and  I 

*  See  Quarrels  of  Scottish  Arohers.    Note  14, 
t  A  quarrel,  videlipet. 


qVENTlN  DURWAttD  73 

blame  you  less  for  this  onslaught  than  for  other  frays  that 
you  have  made,  Ludovic,  for  it  was  but  natural  and  kind- 
like to  help  your  young  kinsman.  This  simple  bairn  must 
come  to  no  skaith  neither ;  so  give  me  the  roll  of  the 
company  yonder  down  from  the  shelf,  and  we  will  even  add 
his  name  to  the  troop,  that  he  may  enjoy  the  privileges/' 

'*  May  it  please  your  lordship/'  said  Durward 

'*  Is  the  lad  crazed  !  "  exclaimed  his  uncle.  ''  Would  you 
speak  to  his  lordship  without  a  question  asked  ?" 

"  Patience,  Ludovic,''  said  Lord  Crawford,  '^  and  let  us 
hear  what  the  bairn  has  to  say." 

"Only  this,  if  it  may  please  your  lordship,"  replied 
Quentin,  "  that  I  told  my  uncle  formerly  I  had  some  doubts 
about  entering  this  service.  I  have  now  to  say  that  they  are 
entirely  removed,  since  I  have  seen  the  noble  and  experienced 
commander  under  whom  I  am  to  serve ;  for  there  is  author- 
ity in  your  look." 

"  Weel  said,  my  bairn,"  said  the  old  lord,  not  insensible  to 
the  compliment ;  "  we  have  had  some  experience,  had  God 
sent  us  grace  to  improve  by  it,  both  in  service  and  in 
command.  There  you  stand,  Quentin,  in  our  honorable 
corps  of  Scottish  Body-Guards,  as  esquire  to  your  uncle,  and 
serving  under  his  lance.  I  trust  you  will  do  well,  for  you 
should  be  a  right  man-at-arms,  if  all  be  good  that  is  upcome,* 
and  you  are  come  of  a  gentle  kindred.  Ludovic,  you  will 
see  that  your  kinsman  follow  his  exercise  diligently,  for  we 
will  have  spears-breaking  one  of  these  days." 

''By  my  hilts,  and  I  am  glad  of  it,  my  lord ;  this  peace 
makes  cowards  of  us  all.  I  myself  feel  a  sort  of  decay  of 
spirit,  closed  up  in  this  cursed  dungeon  of  a  castle." 

'^  Well,  a  bird  whistled  in  my  ear,"  continued  Lord 
Crawford,  '*  that  the  old  banner  will  be  soon  dancing  in  the 
field  again/' 

"  I  will  drink  a  cup  the  deeper  this  evening  to  that  very 
tune,"  said  Balafr6. 

*'  Thou  wilt  drink  to  any  tune,"  said  Lord  Crawford  ; 
''  and  I  fear  me,  Ludovic,  you  will  drink  a  bitter  browst  of 
your  own  brewing  one  day." 

Lesly,  a  little  abashed,  replied,  ''  That  it  had  not  been  his 
wont  for  many  a  day  ;  but  his  lordship  knew  the  use  of  the 
company  to  have  a  carouse  to  the  health  of  a  new  com- 
rade/' 

"  True,"  said  the  old  leader,  ''  I  had  forgot  the  occasion. 
I  will  send  a  few  stoups  of  wine  to  assist  your  carouse  ;  but 

•  That  is,  if  your  courage  corresponds  with  your  personal  appearauodt 


74  WA  VERLE  Y  NO  VELS 

let  it  be  over  by  sunset.  And,  hark  ye — ^let  the  soldiers  foi 
duty  be  carefully  pricked  off  ;  and  see  that  none  of  them  be 
more  or  less  partakers  of  your  debauch." 

"  Your  lordship  shall  be  lawfully  obeyed,"  said  Ludovic  ; 
'*  and  your  health  duly  remembered." 

* '  Perhaps,"  said  Lord  Crawford,  "  I  may  look  in  myself 
upon  your  mirth,  just  to  see  that  all  is  carried  decently." 

'*  Your  lordship  shall  be  most  dearly  welcome,"  said  Lu- 
dovic ;  and  the  whole  party  retreated  in  high  spirits  to  pre- 
pare for  their  military  banquet,  to  which  Lesly  invited  about 
a  score  of  his  comrades,  who  were  pretty  much  in  the  habit 
of  making  their  mess  together. 

A  soldier's  festival  is  generally  a  very  extempore  affair, 
providing  there  is  enough  of  meat  and  drink  to  be  had  ;  but 
on  the  present  occasion  Ludovic  bustled  about  to  procure 
some  better  wine  than  ordinary,  observing,  that  the  '^  old 
lord  was  the  surest  gear  in  their  aught,  and  that,  while  he 
preached  sobriety  to  them,  he  himself,  after  drinking  at  the 
royal  table  as  much  wine  as  he  could  honestly  come  by,  never 
omitted  any  creditable  opportunity  to  fill  up  the  evening 
over  the  wine-pot.  So  you  must  prepare,  comrades,"  he  said, 
*'to  hear  the  old  histories  of  the  battles  of  Vernoil  and 
Beaug6."* 

The  Gothic  apartment  in  which  they  generally  met  was, 
therefore,  hastily  put  into  the  best  order  :  their  grooms  were 
despatched  to  collect  green  rushes  to  spread  upon  the  floor ; 
and  banners,  under  which  the  Scottish  Guard  had  marched 
to  battle,  or  which  they  had  taken  from  the  enemies'  ranks, 
were  displayed,  by  way  of  tapestry,  over  the  table,  and 
around  the  walls  of  the  chamber. 

The  next  point  was  to  invest  the  young  recruit  as  hastily 
as  possible  with  the  dress  and  appropriate  arms  of  the  Guard, 
that  he  might  appear  in  every  respect  the  sharer  of  its  im- 
portant privileges,  in  virtue  of  which,  and  by  the  support  of 
his  countrymen,  he  might  freely  brave  the  power  and  the 
displeasure  of  the  provost-marshal,  although  the  one  was 
known  to  be  as  formidable  as  the  other  was  unrelenting. 

The  banquet  was  joyous  in  the  highest  degree  ;  and  the 
guests  gave  vent  to  the  whole  current  of  their  national 
partiality  on  receiving  into  their  ranks  a  recruit  from  their 
beloved  fatherland.  Old  Scottish  songs  were  sung,  old  tales 
of  Scottish  heroes  told  ;  the  achievements  of  their  fathers, 
and  the  scenes  in  which  they  were  wrought,  were  recalled  to 
mind ;  and  for  a  time  the  rich  plains  of  Touraine  seemed 

*See  Scottish  Auxiliaries.    Note  IS. 


QUENTIN  BURWABD  76 

converted  into  the  mountainous  and  sterile  regions  of  Cale- 
donia. 

When  their  enthusiasm  was  at  high  flood,  and  each  was 
endeavoring  to  say  something  to  enhance  the  dear  remem- 
brance of  Scotland,  it  received  a  new  impulse  from  the  ar- 
rival of  Lord  Crawford,  who,  as  Le  Balafre  had  well  proph- 
esied, sat  as  it  were  on  thorns  at  the  royal  board  until  an 
opportunity  occurred  of  making  his  escape  to  the  revelry  of 
his  own  countrymen.  A  chair  of  state  had  been  reserved 
for  him  at  the  upper  end  of  the  table  ;  for,  according  to  the 
manners  of  the  age,  and  the  constitution  of  that  body,  al- 
though their  leader  and  commander  under  the  King  and 
High  Constable,  the  members  of  the  corps,  as  wc  should  now 
say,  the  privates,  being  all  ranked  as  noble  by  birth,  their 
captain  sat  with  them  at  the  same  table  without  impropriety, 
and  might  mingle  when  he  chose  in  their  festivity,  without 
derogation  from  his  dignit}^  as  commander. 

At  present,  however.  Lord  Crawford  declined  occupying 
the  seat  prepared  for  him,  and  bidding  them  "  hold  them- 
selves merry,  ^' stood  looking  on  the  revel  with  a  countenance 
which  seemed  greatly  to  enjoy  it. 

*'  Let  him  alone,"  whispered  Cunningham  to  Lindesay,  as 
the  latter  offered  the  wine  to  their  noble  captain — '*let  him 
alone — hurry  no  man's  cattle — let  him  take  it  of  his  own 
accord.*' 

In  fact,  the  old  lord,  who  at  first  smiled,  shook  his  head, 
and  placed  the  untasted  wine-cup  before  him,  began  pres- 
ently, as  if  it  were  in  absence  of  mind,  to  sip  a  little  of  the 
contents,  and,  in  doing  so,  fortunately  recollected  that  it 
would  be  ill-luck  did  he  not  drink  a  draught  to  the  health  of 
the  gallant  lad  who  had  joined  them  this  day.  The  pledge 
was  filled  and  answered,  as  may  be  well  supposed,  with  many 
a  joyous  shout,  when  the  old  leader  proceeded  to  acquaint 
them  that  he  had  possessed  Master  Oliver  with  an  account 
of  what  had  passed  that  day.  ''  And  as,*'  he  said,  "  the 
scraper  of  chins  hath  no  great  love  for  the  stretcher  of 
throats,  he  has  joined  me  in  obtaining  from  the  King  an 
order  commanding  the  provost  to  suspend  all  proceedings, 
under  whatever  pretense,  against  Quentin  Durward,  and  to 
respect,  on  all  occasions,  the  privileges  of  the  Scottish 
Guard/' 

Another  shout  broke  forth,  the  cups  were  again  filled  till 
the  wine  sparkled  on  the  brim,  and  there  was  an  acclaim  to 
the  health  of  the  noble  Lord  Crawford,  the  brave  con- 
aervator  of  the  privileges  and  rights  of  his  countrymen.     Th€ 


76  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

good  old  lord  could  not  but  in  courtesy  do  reason  to  this 
pledge  also,  and  gliding  into  the  ready  chair,  as  it  were 
without  reflecting  what  he  was  doing,  he  caused  Quentin  to 
come  up  beside  him,  and  assailed  him  with  many  more 
questions  concerning  the  state  of  Scotland,  and  the  great 
families  there,  than  he  was  well  able  to  answer  ;  while  ever 
and  anon,  in  the  course  of  his  queries,  the  good  lord  kissed 
the  wine-cup  by  way  of  parenthesis,  remarking  that  sociality 
became  Scottish  gentlemen,  but  that  young  men  like  Quen- 
tin ought  to  practise  it  cautiously,  lest  it  might  degenerate 
into  excess  ;  upon  which  occasion  he  uttered  many  excel- 
lent things,  until  his  own  tongue,  although  employed  in  the 
praises  of  temperance,  began  to  articulate  something  thicker 
than  usual.  It  was  now  that,  while  the  military  ardor  of 
the  company  augmented  with  each  flagon  which  they  emp- 
tied, Cunningham  called  on  them  to  drink  the  speedy 
hoisting  of  the  Oriflamme,  the  royal  banner  of  France. 

**^And  a  breeze  of  Burgundy  to  fan  it  I"  echoed  Lindesay. 

'^  With  all  the  soul  that  is  left  in  this  worn  body  do  I  ac- 
cept the  pledge,  bairns,"  echoed  Lord  Crawford ;  "  and  as 
old  as  I  am,  I  trust  I  may  see  it  flutter  yet.  Hark  ye,  my 
mates  (for  wine  had  made  him  something  communicative), 
ye  are  all  true  servants  to  the  French  crown,  and  where- 
fore should  ye  not  know  there  is  an  envoy  come  from 
Duke  Charles  of  Burgundy,  with  a  message  of  an  angry 
favor." 

"  I  saw  the  Count  of  Crevecoeur's  equipage,  horses  and 
retinue,*'  said  another  of  the  guests,  ''down  at  the  inn 
yonder,  at  the  Mulberry  Grove.  They  say  the  King  will  not 
admit  him  into  the  castle." 

''Now,  Heaven  send  him  an  ungracious  answer!*'  said 
Guthrie  ;  "  but  what  is  it  he  complains  of  ?  " 

"A  world  of  grievances  upon  the  frontier,"  said  Lord  Craw- 
ford ;  "and  latterly,  that  the  King  hath  received  under  his 
protection  a  lady  of  his  land,  a  young  countess,  who  hath  fled 
from  Dijon  because,  being  a  ward  of  the  Duke,  he  would 
have  her  marry  his  favorite,  Campo-basso." 

"And  hath  she  actually  come  hither  alone,  my  lord?"  said 
Lindesay. 

"  Nay,  not  altogether  alone,  but  with  the  old  countess, 
her  kinswoman,  who  hath  yielded  to  her  cousin's  wishes  in 
this  matter." 

"And  will  the  King,"  said  Cunningham,  "  he  being  the 
Duke's  feudal  sovereign,  interfere  between  the  Duke  and  his 
ward,  oyer  whom  Charles  hath  the  same  right  which,  were 


qUENTtN  DUViWABt)  ft 

he  himself  dead,  the  King  would  have  over  the  heiress  of 
Burgundy  ?" 

''  The  King  will  be  ruled,  as  he  is  wont,  by  rules  of  policy  ; 
and  you  know,*'  continued  Crawford,  *'that  he  hath  not 
publicly  received  these  ladies, nor  placed  them  under  the  pro- 
tection of  his  daughters,  the  Lady  of  Beaujeau  or  the  Prin- 
cess Joan,  so,  doubtless,  he  will  be  guided  by  circumstances. 
He  is  our  master ;  but  it  is  no  treason  to  say,  he  will  chase 
with  the  hounds  and  run  with  the  hare  with  any  prince  in 
Christendom." 

^'Bnt  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  understands  no  such  doub- 
ling," said  Cunningham. 

'^  No,"  answered  the  old  lord  ;  ^'  and,  therefore,  it  is  likely 
to  make  work  between  them." 

''Well— St.  Andrew  further  the  fray!"  said  Le  Balafr6. 
*'  I  had  it  foretold  me  ten,  ay,  twenty  years  since,  that  I  was 
to  make  the  fortune  of  my  house  by  marriage.  Who  knows 
what  may  happen,  if  once  we  come  to  fight  for  honor  and 
ladies*  love,  as  they  do  in  the  old  romaunts  ?" 

*'  TJiou  name  ladies^  love,  with  such  a  trench  in  thy 
visage  ! "  said  Guthrie. 

''As  well  not  love  at  all,  as  love  a  Bohemian  woman  of 
heathenesse,"  retorted  La  Balafre. 

"  Hold  there,  comrades,"  said  Lord  Crawford  :  "  no  tilting 
with  sharp  weapons,  no  jesting  with  keen  scoffs — friends  all. 
And  for  the  lady,  she  is  too  wealthy  to  fall  to  a  poor  Scottish 
lord,  or  I  would  put  in  my  own  claim,  fourscore  years  and 
all,  or  not  very  far  from  it.  But  here  is  her  health,  never- 
theless, for  they  say  she  is  a  lamp  of  beauty." 

"I  think  I  saw  her,"  said  another  soldier,  "when  I  was 
upon  guard  this  morning  at  the  inner  barrier ;  but  she  was 
more  like  a  dark  lantern  than  a  lamp,  for  she  and  another 
were  brought  into  the  chdteau  in  close  litters." 

"Shame! — shame!  Arnot!"  said  Lord  Crawford;  "a 
soldier  on  duty  should  say  naught  of  what  he  sees.  Besides," 
he  added  after  a  pause,  his  own  curiosity  prevailing  over  the 
show  of  discipline  which  he  had  thought  it  necessary  to 
exert,  "why  should  these  litters  contain  this  very  same 
Countess  Isabelle  de  Croye  ?" 

"Nay,  my  lord,"  replied  Arnot,  "I  know  nothing  of  it 
save  this,  that  my  coutelier  was  airing  my  horses  in  the  road 
to  the  village,  and  fell  in  with  Doguin  the  muleteer  who 
brought  back  the  litters  to  the  inn,  for  they  belong  to  the 
fellow  of  the  Mulberry  Grove  yonder — he  of  the  Fleur-de- 
Lys,  I  mean — and  so  Doguin  asked  Saunders  Steed  to  take  4 


76  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

cnp  of  wine,  as  they  were  acquainted,  which  he  was  no  doubt 
willing  enough  to  do " 

*'  No  doubt — no  doubt,''  said  the  old  lord,  "  it  is  a  thing 
I  wish  were  corrected  among  you,  gentlemen  ;  but  all  your 
grooms  and  couteliers,  and  jackmen,  as  we  should  call  them 
m  Scotland,  are  but  too  ready  to  take  a  cup  of  wine  with 
any  one.  It  is  a  thing  perilous  in  war,  and  must  be  amended. 
But  Andrew  Arnot,  this  is  a  long  tale  of  yours,  and  we  will 
cut  it  with  a  drink,  as  the  Highlander  says  SJceoch  dock  nan 
skial  * — and  that's  good  Gaelic.  Here  is  to  the  Countess 
Isabelle  of  Croye,  and  a  better  husband  to  her  than  Campo- 
basso,  who  is  a  base  Italian  cullion  !  And  now,  Andrew 
Arnot,  what  said  the  muleteer  to  this  yeoman  of  thine  ?  " 

"  Why  he  told  him  in  secrecy,  if  it  please  your  lordship," 
continued  Arnot,  "  that  these  two  ladies  whom  he  had  pres- 
ently before  convoyed  up  to  the  castle  in  the  close  litters 
were  great  ladies,  who  had  been  living  in  secret  at  his  mas- 
ter's house  for  some  days,  and  that  the  King  had  visited  them 
more  than  once  very  privately,  and  had  done  them  great 
honor ;  and  that  they  had  fled  up  to  the  castle,  as  he  believed 
for  fear  of  the  Count  de  Crevecoeur,  the  Duke  of  Burgundy's 
ambassador,  whose  approach  was  just  announced  by  an  ad- 
vance courier." 

''Ay,  Andrew,  come  you  there  to  me?"  said  Guthrie; 
*'  then  I  will  be  sworn  it  was  the  Countess  whose  voice  I 
heard  singing  to  the  lute,  as  I  came  even  now  through  the 
inner  court.  The  sound  came  from  the  bay-windows  of  the 
Dauphin's  Tower  ;  and  such  melody  was  there  as  no  one  ever 
heard  before  in  the  Castle  of  Plessis  of  the  Park.  By  mv 
faith,  I  thought  it  was  the  music  of  the  fairy  Melusina  s 
making.  There  I  stood,  though  I  knew  your  board  was  cov- 
ered and  that  you  were  all  impatient — there  I  stood  like " 

"  Like  an  ass,  Johnny  Guthrie,"  said  his  commander ; 
"  thy  long  nose  smelling  the  dinner,  thy  long  ears  hearing 
the  music,  and  thy  short  discretion  not  enabling  thee  to 
decide  which  of  them  thou  didst  prefer.  Hark  !  is  not  that 
the  cathedral  bell  tolling  to  vespers  ?  Sure  it  cannot  be 
that  time  yet  ?  The  mad  old  sexton  has  toll'd  evensong  an 
hour  too  soon." 

"  In  faith,  the  bell  rings  but  too  justly  the  hour,"  said 
Cunningham  ;  "  yonder  the  sun  is  sinking  on  the  west  side 
of  the  fair  ^lain.'^ 

'*  Ay,"  said  the  Lord  Crawford,  ''  is  it  even  so  ?    Well, 

*  **  Cut  a  tale  with  a  drink,"  an  expression  used  when  a  maa 
pr«aoheB  over  his  liquor,  as  bons  vivanta  say  in  England. 


Q  UEN  TIN  D  UR  WA  ED  ^9 

lads,  we  must  live  within  compass.  Fair  and  soft  goes  far 
— slow  fire  makes  sweet  malt — to  be  merry  and  wise  is  a 
sound  proverb.  One  other  rouse  to  the  weal  of  old  Scotland, 
and  then  each  man  to  his  duty." 

The  parting-cup  was  emptied,  and  the  guests  dismissed  ; 
the  stately  old  baron  taking  the  Balafre's  arm,  under  pre- 
tense of  giving  him  some  instructions  concerning  his  nephew, 
but  perliaps,  in  reality,  lest  his  own  lofty  pace  should  seem 
in  the  public  eye  less  steady  than  became  his  rank  and  high 
command.  A  serious  countenance  did  he  bear  as  he  passed 
through  the  two  courts  which  separated  his  lodgings  from 
the  festal  chamber,  and  solemn  as  the  gravity  of  a  hogshead 
was  the  farewell  caution  with  which  he  prayed  Ludovic  to 
attend  his  nephew's  motions,  especially  in  the  matter  of 
wenches  and  wine-cups. 

Meanwhile,  not  a  word  that  was  spoken  concerning  the 
beautiful  Countess  Isa belle  had  escaped  the  young  Durward, 
who,  conducted  into  a  small  cabin,  which  he  was  to  share 
with  his  uncle's  page,  made  his  new  and  lowly  abode  the 
scene  of  much  high  musing.  The  reader  will  easily  imagine 
that  the  young  soldier  should  build  a  fine  romance  on  such  a 
foundation  as  the  supposed,  or  rather  assumed,  identification 
of  the  maiden  of  the  turret,  to  whose  lay  he  had  listened 
with  so  much  interest,  and  the  fair  cup-bearer  of  Maitre 
Pierre,  with  a  fugitive  countess  of  rank  and  wealth,  flying 
from  the  pursuit  of  a  hated  lover,  the  favorite  of  an  oppressive 
guardian,  who  abused  his  feudal  power.  There  was  an  inter- 
lude in  Quentin's  vision  concerning  Maitre  Pierre,  who 
seemed  to  exercise  such  authority  even  over  the  formidable 
officer  from  whose  hands  he  had  that  day,  with  much  diffi- 
culty, made  his  escape.  At  length  the  youth's  reveries, 
which  had  been  respected  by  little  Will  Harper,  the  compan- 
ion of  his  cell,  were  broken  in  upon  by  the  return  of  his 
uncle,  who  commanded  Quentin  to  bed,  that  he  might  arise 
betimes  in  the  morning,  and  attend  him  to  his  Majesty's 
ante-chamber,  to  which  he  was  called  by  his  hour  of  duty, 
along  with  five  of  his  comrades. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE    ENVOY 

Be  thou  as  lightning  in  thee  yes  of  France ; 
For  ere  thou  canst  report  I  will  be  there, 
The  thunder  of  my  cannon  shall  be  heard. 
So,  hence  !    Be  thou  the  trumpet  of  our  wrath. 

King  John. 

Had  sloth  been  a  temptation  by  which  Durward  was  easily 
beset,  the  noise  with  which  the  caserne  of  the  guards  re- 
sounded after  the  first  toll  of  primes  had  certainly  banished 
the  siren  from  his  couch  ;  but  the  discipline  of  his  father's 
tower  and  of  the  convent  of  Aberbrothock  had  taught  him 
to  start  with  the  dawn  ;  and  he  did  on  his  clothes  gaily,  amid 
the  sounding  of  bugles  and  the  clash  of  armor,  which  an- 
nounced the  change  of  the  viligant  guards — some  of  whom 
were  returning  to  barracks  after  their  nightly  duty,  whilst 
some  were  marching  out  to  that  of  the  morning  ;  and  others, 
again,  amongst  whom  was  his  uncle,  were  arming  for  im- 
mediate attendance  upon  the  person  of  Louis.  Quentin 
Durward  soon  put  on,  with  the  feelings  of  so  young  a  man 
on  such  an  occasion,  the  splendid  dress  and  arms  appertain- 
ing to  his  new  situation  ;  and  his  uncle,  who  looked  with 
great  accuracy  and  interest  to  see  that  he  was  completely 
fitted  out  in  every  respect,  did  not  conceal  his  satisfaction 
at  the  improvement  which  had  been  thus  made  in  his  neph- 
ew's appearance.  ''  If  thou  dost  prove  as  faithful  and  bold 
as  thou  art  well-favored,  I  shall  have  in  thee  one  of  the 
handsomest  and  best  esquires  in  the  guard,  which  cannot 
but  be  an  honor  to  thy  mother's  family.  Follow  me  to  the 
presence-chamber  ;  and  see  thou  keep  close  at  my  shoulder, 

So  saying,  he  took  up  a  partizan,  large,  weighty,  and 
beautifully  inlaid  and  ornamented,  and  directing  his  nephew 
to  assume  a  lighter  weapon  of  a  similar  description,  they 
proceeded  to  the  inner  court  of  the  palace,  where  their  com- 
rades, who  were  to  form  the  guard  of  the  interior  apart- 
ments, were  already  drawn  up  and  under  arms — the  squires 
each  standing  behind  their  masters,  to  whom  they  thus 
formed  a  second  rank.     Here  were  also  in  attendance  many 

80 


QUtlNTIN  nURWABD  BX 

yeomen-prickers,  with  gallant  horses  and  noble  dogs,  on 
which  Quentin  looked  with  such  inquisitive  delight  that  his 
uncle  was  obliged  more  than  once  to  remind  him  that  the 
animals  were  not  there  for  his  private  amusement,  but  for 
the  King's,  who  had  a  strong  passion  for  the  chase,  one  of 
the  few  inclinations  which  he  indulged,  even  when  coming 
in  competition  with  his  course  of  policy  ;  being  so  strict  a 
proctector  of  the  game  in  the  royal  forests,  that  it  was  cur- 
rently said  you  might  kill  a  man  with  greater  impunity 
than  a  stag. 

On  a  signal  given,  the  guards  were  put  into  motion  by  the 
command  of  Le  Balafre,  who  acted  as  oflficer  upon  the  oc- 
casion ;  and,  after  some  minutiae  of  word  and  signal,  which 
all  served  to  show  the  extreme  and  punctilious  jealousy 
with  which  their  duty  was  performed,  they  marched  into  the 
hall  of  audience,  where  the  King  was  immediately  expected. 

New  as  Quentin  was  to  scenes  of  splendor,  the  effect  of 
that  which  was  now  before  him  rather  disappointed  the  ex- 
pectations which  he  had  formed  of  the  brilliancy  of  a  court. 
There  were  household  officers,  indeed,  richly  attired,  there 
were  guards  gallantly  armed,  and  there  were  domestics  of 
various  degrees  ;  but  he  saw  none  of  the  ancient  counselors 
of  the  kingdom,  none  of  the  high  officers  of  the  crown  ; 
heard  none  of  the  names  which  in  those  days  sounded  an 
alarm  to  chivalry  ;  saw  none  either  of  those  generals  or  lead- 
ers who,  possessed  of  the  full  prime  of  manhood,  were  the 
strength  of  France,  or  of  the  more  youthful  and  fiery  nobles, 
those  early  aspirants  after  honor,  who  were  her  pride.  The 
jealous  habits,  the  reserved  manners,  the  deep  and  artful 
policy  of  the  King,  had  estranged  this  splendid  circle  from 
the  throne,  and  they  were  only  called  around  it  upon  cer- 
tain stated  and  formal  occasions,  when  they  went  reluc- 
tantly, and  returned  joyfully,  as  the  animals  in  the  fable 
are  supposed  to  have  approached  and  left  the  den  of  the 
lion. 

The  very  few  persons  who  seemed  to  be  there  in  the  char- 
acter of  counselors  were  mean  looking  men,  whose  counte- 
nances sometimes  expressed  sagacity,  but  whose  manners 
showed  they  were  called  into  a  sphere  for  which  their  pre- 
vious education  and  habits  had  qualified  them  but  indif- 
ferently. One  or  two  persons,  however,  did  appear  to  Dur- 
ward  to  possess  a  more  noble  mien,  and  the  strictness  of  the 
present  duty  was  not  such  as  to  prevent  his  uncle  commu- 
nicating the  names  of  those  whom  he  thus  distinguished. 

With  the  Lord  Crawford,  who  was  in  attendance,  dressed 
6 


§2  WA  VEELEY  NO  V^L& 

in  the  rich  habit  of  his  office,  and  holding  a  leading  staff  of 
silver  in  his  hand,  Qiientin,  as  well  as  the  reader,  was  already 
acquainted.  Among  others  who  seemed  of  quality,  the  most 
remarkable  was  the  Count  de  Dunois,  the  son  of  that  cele- 
brated Dunois,  known  by  the  name  of  the  Bastard  of  Or- 
leans, who,  fighting  under  the  banner  of  Jeanne  d'Arc,  acted 
such  a  distinguished  part  in  liberating  France  from  the 
English  yoke.  His  son  well  supported  the  high  renown 
which  had  descended  to  him  from  such  an  honored  source  : 
and,  notwithstanding  his  connection  with  the  royal  family, 
and  his  hereditary  popularity  both  with  the  nobles  and  the 
people,  Dunois  had,  upon  all  occasions,  manifested  such  an 
open,  frank  loyalty  of  character  that  he  seemed  to  have 
escaped  all  suspicion,  even  on  the  part  of  the  jealous  Louis, 
who  loved  to  see  him  near  his  person,  and  sometimes  even 
called  him  to  his  councils.  Although  accounted  complete 
in  all  the  exercises  of  chivalry,  and  possessed  of  much  of 
the  character  of  what  was  then  termed  a  perfect  knight,  the 
person  of  the  count  was  far  from  being  a  model  of  romantic 
beauty.  He  was  under  the  common  size,  though  very  strongly 
built,  and  his  legs  rather  curved  outwards  into  that  make 
which  is  more  convenient  for  horseback  than  elegant  in  a 
pedestrian.  His  shoulders  were  broad,  his  hair  black,  his 
complexion  swarthy,  his  arms  remarkably  long  and  nervous. 
The  features  of  his  countenance  were  irregular,  even  to  ugli- 
ness ;  yet,  after  all,  there  was  an  air  of  conscious  worth  and 
nobility  about  the  Count  de  Dunois  which  stamped,  at  the 
first  glance,  the  character  of  the  high-born  nobleman  and 
the  undaunted  soldier.  His  mien  was  bold  and  upright,  his 
step  free  and  manly,  and  the  harshness  of  his  countenance 
was  dignified  by  a  glance  like  an  eagle  and  a  frown  like  a 
lion.  His  dress  was  a  hunting-suit,  rather  sumptuous  than 
gay,  and  he  acted  on  most  occasions  as  Grand  Huntsman, 
though  we  are  not  inclined  to  believe  that  he  actually  held 
the  office. 

Upon  the  arm  of  his  relation  Dunois,  walking  with  a  step 
so  slow  and  melancholy  that  he  seemed  to  rest  on  his  kins- 
man and  supporter,  came  Louis  Duke  of  Orleans,  the  first 
Erince  of  the  blood  royal  (afterwards  King,  by  the  name  of 
louis  XII.),  and  to  whom  the  guards  and  attendants  ren- 
dered their  homage  as  such.  The  jealously-watched  object 
of  Louis's  suspicions,  this  prince,  who,  failing  the  King's 
offspring,  was  heir  to  the  kingdom,  was  not  suffered  to  ab- 
sent himself  from  court,  and,  while  residing  there,  was  alike 
denied  employment  and  countenance.     The  dejection  which 


qUENTIN  DUEWARD  83 

his  degraded  and  almost  captive  state  naturally  impressed  on 
the  deportment  of  this  unfortunate  prince  was  at  this  mo- 
ment greatly  increased  by  his  consciousness  that  the  King 
meditated,  with  respect  to  him,  one  of  the  most  cruel  and 
unjust  actions  which  a  tyrant  could  commit,  by  compelling 
him  to  give  his  hand  to  the  Princess  Joan  of  France,  the 
younger  daughter  of  Louis,  to  whom  he  had  been  contracted 
m  infancy,  but  whose  deformed  person  rendered  the  insist- 
ing upon  such  an  agreement  an  act  of  abominable  rigor.* 

The  exterior  of  this  unhappy  prince  was  in  no  respect  dis- 
tinguished by  personal  advantages  ;  and  in  mind  he  was  of  a 
gentle,  mild,  and  beneficent  disposition,  qualities  which  were 
visible  even  through  the  veil  of  extreme  dejection  with  which 
his  natural  character  was  at  present  obscured.  Quentin  ob- 
served that  the  Duke  studiously  avoided  even  looking  at  the 
Royal  Guards,  and  when  he  returned  their  salute,  that  he 
kept  his  eyes  bent  on  the  ground,  as  if  he  feared  the  King's 
jealousy  might  have  construed  that  gesture  of  ordinary 
courtesy  as  arising  from  the  purpose  of  establishing  a 
separate  and  personal  interest  among  them. 

Very  different  was  the  conduct  of  the  proud  cardinal  and 
prelate,  John  of  Balue,  the  favorite  minister  of  Louis  for  the 
time,  whose  rise  and  character  bore  as  close  a  resemblance  to 
that  of  Wolsey  as  the  difference  betwixt  the  crafty  and  politic 
Louis  and  the  headlong  and  rash  Henry  VIII.  of  England 
would  permit.  The  former  had  raised  his  minister  from  the 
lowest  rank  to  the  dignity,  or  at  least  to  the  emoluments,  of 
Grand  Almoner  of  France,  loaded  him  with  benefices,  and 
obtained  for  him  the  hat  of  a  cardinal ;  and  although  he  was 
too  cautious  to  repose  in  the  ambitious  Balue  the  unbounded 
power  and  trust  which  Henry  placed  in  Wolsey,  yet  he  was 
more  influenced  by  him  than  by  any  other  of  his  avowed 
counselors.  The  cardinal,  accordingly,  had  not  escaped  the 
error  incidental  to  those  who  are  suddenly  raised  to  power 
from  an  obscure  situation,  for  he  entertained  a  strong  per- 
suasion, dazzled  doubtless  by  the  suddenness  of  his  elevation, 
that  his  capacity  was  equal  to  intermeddling  with  affairs  of 
every  kind,  even  those  most  foreign  to  his  profession  and 
studies.  Tan  and  ungainly  in  his  person,  he  affected  gallan- 
try and  admiration  of  the  fair  sex,  although  his  manners 
rendered  his  pretensions  absurd,  and  his  profession  marked 
them  as  indecorous.  Some  male  or  female  flatterer  had,  in 
evil  hour,  possessed  him  with  the  idea  that  there  was  much 
beauty  of  contour  in  a  pair  of  huge,  substantial  legs,  which 

'    ♦See  Note  19,  p.  440. 


84  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

he  had  derived  from  his  father,  a  carman  of  Limoges,  or 
according  to  otlier  authorities,  a  miller  of  Verdun  ;  and  with 
this  idea  he  had  become  so  infatuated,  that  he  always  had 
his  cardinal's  robe  a  little  looped  up  o;:i  one  side,  that  the 
sturdy  proportion  of  his  limbs  might  not  escape  observation. 
As  he  swept  through  the  stately  apartment  in  his  crimson 
dress  and  rich  cope,  he  stopped  repeatedly  to  look  at  the 
arms  and  appointments  of  the  cavaliers  on  guard,  asked  them 
several  questions  in  an  authoritative  tone,  and  took  upon 
him  to  censure  some  of  them  for  what  he  termed  irregular- 
ities of  discipline,  in  language  to  which  these  experienced 
soldiers  dared  no  reply,  although  it  was  plain  they  listened 
to  it  with  impatience  and  with  contempt. 

'^  Is  the  King  aware,"  said  Dunois  to  the  cardinal,  "  that 
the  Burgnndian  envoy  is  peremptory  in  demanding  an  audi- 
ence ?  " 

*'  He  is,"  answered  the  cardinal  ;  ^'  and  here,  as  I  think, 
comes  the  all-sufficient  Oliver  Dain  *  to  let  us  know  the  royal 
pleasure." 

As  he  spoke,  a  remarkable  person,  who  then  divided  the 
favor  of  Louis  with  the  proud  cardinal  himself,  entered 
from  the  inner  apartment,  but  without  any  of  that  import- 
ant and  consequential  demeanor  which  marked  the  full- 
blown dignity  of  the  churchman.  On  the  contrary,  this 
was  a  little,  pale,  m.eager  man,  whose  black  silk  jerkin  and 
hose,  without  either  coat,  cloak,  or  cassock,  formed  a  dress 
ill  qualified  to  set  off  to  advantage  a  very  ordinary  person. 
He  carried  a  silver  basin  in  his  hand,  and  a  napkin  flung 
over  his  arm  indicated  his  menial  capacity.  His  visage  was 
penetrating  and  quick,  although  he  endeavored  to  banish 
such  expression  from  his  features,  by  keeping  his  eyes  fixed 
on  the  ground,  while,  with  the  stealthy  and  quiet  pace  of  a 
cat,  he  seemed  modestly  rather  to  glide  than  to  walk  through 
the  apartment.  But,  though  modesty  may  easily  obscure 
worth,  it  cannot  hide  court  favor  :  and  all  attempts  to  steal 
unperceived  through  the  presence-chamber  were  vain  on  the 
part  of  one  known  to  have  such  possession  of  the  King's 
ear  as  had  been  attained  by  his  celebrated  barber  and  groom 
of  the  chamber,  Oliver  le  Dain,  called  sometimes  Oliver  le 
Mauvais,  and  sometimes  Oliver  le  Diable — epithets  derived 
from  the  unscrupulous  cunning  with  which  he  assisted  in 
the  execution  of  the  schemes  of  his  master's  tortuous  policy. 
At  present  he  spoke  earnestly  for  a  few  moments  with  the 
Count  de  Dunois,  who  instantly  left  the  chamber,  while  the 

*  See  Note  16. 


Qtr£!NTIN  DURWARD  86 

tonsor  glided  quietly  back  towards  the  royal  apartment 
whence  he  had  issued,  every  one  giving  place  to  him  ;  which 
civility  he  only  acknowledged  by  the  most  humble  in- 
clination of  the  body,  excepting  in  a  very  few  instances, 
where  he  made  one  or  two  persons  the  subject  of  envy  to  all 
the  other  courtiers  by  whispering  a  single  word  in  their  ear  ; 
and  at  the  same  time  muttering  something  of  the  duties  of 
his  place,  he  escaped  from  their  replies,  as  well  as  from  the 
eager  solicitations  of  those  who  wished  to  attract  his  notice. 
Ludovic  Lesly  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  one  of  the  indi- 
viduals who,  on  the  present  occasion,  was  favored  by  Oliver 
with  a  single  word,  to  assure  him  that  his  matter  was  for- 
tunately terminated. 

Presently  afterwards,  he  had  another  proof  of  the  same 
agreeable  tidings  ;  for  Quentin's  old  acquaintance,  Tristan 
THermite,  the  provost-marshal  of  the  royal  household,  en- 
tered the  apartment,  and  came  straight  to  the  place  where 
Le  Balafre  was  posted.  This  formidable  officer's  uniform, 
which  was  very  rich,  had  only  the  effect  of  making  his  sin- 
ister countenance  and  bad  mien  more  strikingly  remarkable, 
and  the  tone  which  he  meant  for  conciliatory  was  like  noth- 
ing so  much  as  the  growling  of  a  bear.  The  import  of  his 
words,  however,  was  more  amicable  than  the  voice  in  which 
they  were  pronounced.  He  regretted  the  mistake  which 
had  fallen  between  them  on  the  preceding  day,  and  observed 
it  was  owing  to  the  Sieur  Le  Balafre's  nephew  not  wearing 
the  uniform  of  his  corps,  or  announcing  himself  as  belong- 
ing to  it,  which  had  led  him  into  the  error  for  which  he 
now  asked  forgiveness. 

Ludovic  Lesly  made  the  necessary  reply,  and  as  soon  as 
Tristan  had  turned  away,  observed  to  his  nephew  that  they 
had  now  the  distinction  of  having  a  mortal  enemy  from 
henceforward  in  the  person  of  this  dreaded  officer.  ''  But 
we  are  above  his  votee  :  a  soldier,''  said  he,  "  who  does  his 
duty  may  laugh  at  the  provost-marshal." 

Quentin  could  not  help  being  of  his  uncle's  opinion,  for 
as  Tristan  parted  from  them,  it  was  with  the  look  of  an- 
gry defiance  which  the  bear  casts  upon  the  hunter  whose 
spear  has  wounded  him.  Indeed,  even  when  less  strongly 
moved,  the  sullen  eye  of  this  official  expressed  a  malevolence 
of  purpose  which  made  men  shudder  to  meet  hi?  gla-cc  ; 
and  the  thrill  of  the  young  Scot  was  the  deeper  and  more 
abhorrent,  that  he  seemed  to  himself  still  to  feel  on  his 
shoulders  the  grasp  of  the  two  deathdoing  functionaries  of 
thig  fatal  officer. 


86  WAVBRLEY  NOVELS 

Meanwhile,  Oliver,  after  he  had  prowled  around  the  room 
in  the  stealthy  manner  which  we  have  endeavored  to  describe 
— all,  even  the  highest  officers,  making  way  for  him,  and  load- 
ing him  with  their  ceremonious  attentioi/f;,  which  his  modesty 
seemed  desirous  to  avoid — again  entered  the  inner  apartment, 
the  doors  of  which  were  presently  thrown  open,  and  King 
Louis  entered  the  presence-chamber. 

Quentin,  like  all  others,  turned  his  eyes  upon  him ;  and 
started  so  suddenly  that  he  almost  dropt  his  weapon,  when  he 
recognized  in  the  King  of  France  that  silk-merchant,  Maitre 
Pierre,  who  had  been  the  companion  of  his  morning  walk. 
Singular  suspicions  respecting  the  real  rank  of  this  person 
had  at  different  times  crossed  his  thoughts  ;  but  this,  the 
proved  reality,  was  wilder  than  his  wildest  conjecture. 

The  stern  look  of  his  uncle,  offended  at  this  breach  of  the 
decorum  of  his  office,  recalled  him  to  himself  ;  but  not  a  little 
was  he  astonished  when  the  King,  whose  quick  eye  had  at 
once  discovered  him,  walked  straight  to  the  place  where  he 
was  posted,  without  taking  notice  of  any  one  else.  '^  So,"  he 
said,  "  young  man,  I  am  told  you  have  been  brawling  on  your 
first  arrival  in  Touraine  ;  but  I  pardon  you,  as  it  was  chiefly 
the  fault  of  a  foolish  old  merchant,  who  thought  your  Cale- 
donian blood  required  to  be  heated  in  the  morning  with  vin 
de  Beaulne.  If  I  can  find  him,  I  will  make  him  an  example 
to  those  who  debauch  my  Guards.  Balaf  re,"  he  added,  speak- 
ing to  Lesly,  *'  your  kinsman  is  a  fair  youth,  though  a  fiery. 
We  love  to  cherish  such  spirits,  and  mean  to  make  more  than 
e"\'er  we  did  of  the  brave  men  who  are  around  us.  Let  the 
year,  day,  hour,  and  minute  of  your  nephew's  birth  be  writ- 
ten down  and  given  to  Oliver  Dain." 

Le  Balafre  bowed  to  the  ground  and  reassumed  his  erect 
military  position,  as  one  who  would  show  by  his  demeanor  his 
promptitude  to  act  in  the  King's  quarrel  or  defence.  Quen- 
tin, in  the  meantime,  recovered  from  his  first  surprise,  stud- 
ied the  King's  appearance  more  attentively,  and  was  surprised 
to  find  how  differently  he  now  construed  his  deportment  and 
features  than  he  had  done  at  their  first  interview. 

These  were  not  much  changed  in  exterior,  for  Louis,  al- 
ways a  scorner  of  outward  show,  wore  on  the  present  occa- 
sion, an  old  dark-blue  hunting-dress,  not  much  better  than 
the  plain  burgher-suit  of  the  preceding  day,  and  garnished 
with  a  huge  rosary  of  ebony,  which  had  been  sent  to  him  by 
no  less  a  personage  than  the  Grand  Seignior,  with  an  attes- 
tation that  it  had  been  used  by  a  Coptic  hermit  on  Mount 
Lebanon,  a  personage  of  profound  sanctity.     And  instead  of 


QUEJSTTIN  DUE  WARD  87 

his  cap  with  a  single  image,  he  now  wore  a  hat  the  band  of 
which  was  garnished  with  at  least  a  dozen  of  little  paltry 
figures  of  saints  stamped  in  lead.  But  those  eyes  which,  ac- 
cording to  Quentin^s  former  impression,  only  twinkled  with 
the  love  of  gain,  had,  now  that  they  were  known  to  be  the 
property  of  an  able  and  powerful  monarch,  a  piercing  and 
majestic  glance  ;  and  those  wrinkles  on  the  brow, which  he  had 
supposed  were  formed  during  a  long  series  of  petty  schemes 
of  commerce,  seemed  now  the  furrows  which  sagacity  had 
worn  while  toiling  in  meditation  upon  the  fate  of  nations. 

Presently  after  the  King's  appearance,  the  Princesses  of 
France,  with  the  ladies  of  their  suite,  entered  the  apartment. 
With  the  eldest,  afterwards  married  to  Peter  of  Bourbon,  and 
known  in  French  history  by  the  name  of  the  Lady  of  Beau- 
leau,  our  story  has  but  little  to  do.  She  was  tall,  and  rather 
handsome,  possessed  eloquence,  talent,  and  much  of  her 
father's  sagacity,  who  reposed  great  confidence  in  her,  and 
loved  her  as  well  perhaps  as  he  loved  any  one. 

The  younger  sister,  the  unfortunate  Joan,  the  destined 
bride  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  advanced  timidly  by  the  side  of 
her  sister,  conscious  of  a  total  want  of  those  external  qualities 
which  women  are  most  desirous  of  possessing,  or  being  thought 
to  possess.  She  was  pale,  thin,  and  sickly  in  her  complex- 
ion ;  her  shape  visibly  bent  to  one  side,  and  her  gait  so  un- 
equal that  she  might  be  called  lame.  A  fine  set  of  teeth,  and 
eyes  which  were  expressive  of  melancholy,  softness,  and  res- 
ignation, with  a  quantity  of  light  brown  locks,  were  the  only 
redeeming  points  which  flattery  itself  could  have  dared  to 
number  to  counteract  the  general  homeliness  of  her  face  and 
figure.  To  complete  the  picture,  it  was  easy  to  remark,  from 
the  Princess's  negligence  in  dress  and  the  timidity  of  her 
manner,  that  she  had  an  unusual  and  distressing  conscious- 
ness of  her  own  plainness  of  appearance,  and  did  not  dare  to 
make  any  of  those  attempts  to  mend  by  manners  or  by  art 
what  nature  had  left  amiss,  or  in  any  other  way  to  exert  a 
power  of  pleasing.  The  King,  who  loved  her  not,  stepped 
nastily  to  her  as  she  entered.  ''  How  now  ! "  he  said,  "  our 
world-contemning  daughter.  Are  you  robed  for  a  hunting- 
party  or  for  the  convent  this  morning  ?    Speak — answer." 

'^  For  which  your  Highness  pleases,  sire,"  said  the  Princess, 
scarce  raising  her  voice  above  her  breath. 

"  Ay,  doubtless  you  would  persuade  me  it  is  your  desire 
to  quit  the  court,  Joan,  and  renounce  the  world  and  its 
vanities.  Ha  !  maiden,  wouldst  thou  have  it  thought  that 
we,  the  first-born  of  holy  church,  would  refuse  our  dau^htei 


68  WA  VERLEY  NO VELlS 

to  Heaven  ?  Our  Lady  and  St.  Martin  forbid  we  should 
refuse  the  offering,  were  it  worthy  of  the  altar,  or  were  thy 
vocation  in  truth  thitherward  !  " 

So  saying,  the  King  crossed  himself  devoutly,  looking,  in 
the  meantime,  as  appeared  to  Quentin,  very  like  a  cunning 
vassal,  who  was  depreciating  the  merit  of  something  which 
he  was  desirous  to  keep  to  himself,  in  order  that  he  might 
stand  excused  for  not  offering  it  to  his  chief  or  superior. 
*'  Dares  he  thus  play  the  hypocrite  with  Heaven,^'  thought 
Durward,  '^  and  sport  with  God  and  the  saints,  as  he  may 
safely  do  with  men,  who  dare  not  search  his  nature  too 
closely  ?  " 

Louis  meantime  resumed,  after  a  moment's  mental  devo- 
tion— "'^0,  fair  daughter,  I  and  another  know  your  real 
mind  better.  Ha  !  fair  cousin  of  Orleans,  do  we  not  ? 
Approach,  fair  sir,  and  lead  this  devoted  vestal  of  ours  to  her 
horse.'* 

Orleans  started  when  the  King  spoke,  and  hastened  to 
obey  him  ;  but  with  such  precipitation  of  step  and  confusion 
that  Louis  called  out,  '*Nay,  cousin,  rein  your  gallantry, 
and  look  before  you.  Why,  what  a  headlong  matter  a  gal- 
lant's haste  is  on  some  occasions  !  You  had  wellnigh  taken 
Anne's  hand  instead  of  her  sister's.  Sir,  must  I  give  Joan's 
to  you  myself  ?  " 

The  unhappy  prince  looked  up,  and  shuddered  like  a  child, 
when  forced  to  touch  something  at  which  it  has  instinctive 
horror ;  then  making  an  effort,  took  the  hand,  which  the 
Princess  neither  gave  nor  yet  withheld.  As  they  stood,  her 
cold  damp  fingers  inclosed  in  his  trembling  hand,  with  their 
eyes  looking  on  the  ground,  it  would  have  been  difficult  to 
cay  which  of  these  two  youthful  beings  was  rendered  more 
utterly  miserable — the  duke,  who  felt  himself  fettered  to  the 
object  of  his  aversion  by  bonds  which  he  durst  not  tear' 
asunder,  or  the  unfortunate  young  woman,  who  too  plainly 
saw  that  she  was  an  object  of  abhorrence  to  him  to  gain 
whose  kindness  she  would  willingly  have  died. 

^'  And  now  to  horse,  gentlemen  and  ladies.  We  will  our- 
selves lead  forth  our  daughter  of  Beaujeau,"  said  the  King ; 
"  and  God's  blessing  and  St.  Hubert's  be  on  our  morning 
sport ! " 

*'  I  am,  I  fear,  doomed  to  interrupt  it,  sire,"  said  the 
Compte  de  Dunois — "the  Burgundian  envoy  is  before  the 
gates  of  the  castle,  and  demands  an  audience." 

'*  Demands  an  audience,  Dunois  ! "  replied  the  King. 
**  Did  ^''^u  nob  answer  him,  as  we  sent  you  word  by  Oliver, 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  89 

that  we  were  not  at  leisure  to  see  him  to-day  ;  and  that  to- 
morrow was  the  festival  of  St.  Martin,  which,  please  Heaven, 
we  would  disturb  by  no  earthly  thoughts  ;  and  that  on  the 
succeeding  day  we  were  designed  for  Amboise  ;  but  that  we 
would  not  fail  to  appoint  him  as  early  an  audience,  when 
we  returned,  as  our  pressing  affairs  would  permit  f 

**  All  this  I  said,"  answered  Dunois  ;  **  but  yet,  sire " 

"  Pasques-dieu !  man,  what  is  it  that  thus  sticks  in  thy 
throat  ?  said  the  King.  ''This  Burgundian's  terms  must 
have  been  hard  of  digestion." 

"  Had  not  my  duty,  your  Grace's  commands,  and  his 
character  as  an  envoy  restrained  me,"  said  Dunois,  'Mie 
should  have  tried  to  digest  them  himself  ;  for,  by  our  Lady 
of  Orleans,  I  had  more  mind  to  have  made  him  eat  his  own 
words  than  to  have  brought  them  to  your  Majesty." 

"  Body  of  me,  Dunois,"  said  the  King,  "  it  is  strange  that 
thou,  one  of  the  most  impatient  fellows  alive,  shouldst  have 
so  little  sympathy  with  the  like  infirmity  in  our  blunt  and 
fiery  cousin,  Charles  of  Burgundy.  Why,  man,  I  mind  his 
blustering  messages  no  more  than  the  towers  of  this  castle 
regard  the  whistling  of  the  northeast  wind,  which  comes 
from  Flanders,  as  well  as  this  brawling  envoy." 

'*Know  then,  sire,"  replied  Dunois,  ''that  the  Count  of 
Cr^vecceur  tarries  below,  with  his  retinue  of  pursuivants 
and  trumpets,  and  says  that,  since  j^^our  Majesty  refuses  him 
the  audience  which  his  master  has  instructed  him  to  demand, 
upon  matters  of  most  pressing  concern,  he  will  remain  there 
till  midnight,  and  accost  your  Majesty  at  whatever  hour 
you  are  pleased  to  issue  from  your  castle,  whether  for  busi- 
ness, exercise,  or  devotion  ;  and  that  no  consideration,  except 
the  use  of  absolute  force,  shall  compel  him  to  desist  from 
this  resolution." 

"He  is  a  fool,"  said  the  King,  with  much  composure. 
"  Does  the  hot-headed  Hainaulter  think  it  any  penance  for 
a  man  of  sense  to  remain  for  twenty-four  hours  quiet  within 
the  walls  of  his  castle,  when  he  hath  the  affairs  of  a  kingdom 
to  occupy  him  ?  These  impatient  coxcombs  think  that  all 
men,  like  themselves,  are  miserable,  save  when  in  saddle 
and  stirrup.  Let  the  dogs  be  put  up  and  well  looked  to, 
gentle  Dunois.  We  will  hold  council  to  day,  instead  of 
hunting." 

"My  liege,"  answered  Dunois,  "you  will  not  thus  rid 
yourself  of  Cr^vecceur ;  for  his  master's  instructions  are, 
that,  if  he  hath  not  this  audience  which  he  demands,  he 
shall  nail  his  gauntlet  to  the  palisades  before  the  castle,  in 


90  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

token  of  mortal  defiance  on  the  part  of  his  master,  shall 
renounce  the  Duke's  fealty  to  France,  and  declare  instant 
war/' 

*'Ay,"  said  Louis,  without  any  perceptible  alteration  of 
voice,  but  frowning  until  his  piercing  dark  eyes  became  al- 
most invisible  under  his  shaggy  eyebrows,  *'  is  it  even  so  ? — 
will  our  ancient  vassal  prove  so  masterful — our  dear  cousin 
treat  us  thus  unkindly  ?  Nay  then,  Dunois,  we  must  unfold 
the  Orijiamme,  and  cry  '  Denis  Montejoye  I ' " 

*'  Marry  and  amen,  and  in  a  most  happy  hour  !  '^  said  the 
martial  Dunois ;  and  the  guards  in  the  hall,  unable  to  resist 
the  same  impulse,  stirred  each  upon  liis  post,  so  as  to  pro- 
duce a  low  but  distinct  sound  of  clashing  arms.     The  Kin 
cast  his  eye  proudly  round,  and  for  a  moment  thought  an 
looked  like  his  heroic  father. 

But  the  excitement  of  the  moment  presently  gave  way  to 
the  host  of  political  considerations  which,  at  that  conjunc- 
ture, rendered  an  open  breach  with  Burgundy  so  peculiarly 
perilous.  Edward  IV.,  a  brave  and  victorious  king,  who 
had  in  his  own  person  fought  thirty  battles,  was  now  estab- 
lished on  the  throne  of  England,  was  brother  to  the  Duchess 
of  Burgundy,  and,  it  might  well  be  supposed,  waited  but  a 
rupture  between  his  near  connection  and  Louis  to  carry  into 
France,  through  the  ever-open  gate  of  Calais,  those  arms 
which  had  been  triumphant  in  the  English  civil  wars,  and 
to  obliterate  the  recollection  of  internal  dissensions  by  that 
most  popular  of  all  occupations  amongst  the  English,  an  in- 
vasion of  France.  To  this  consideration  was  added  the  un- 
certain faith  of  the  Duke  of  Bretagne  and  other  weighty 
subjects  of  reflection.  So  that,  after  a  deep  pause,  when 
Louis  again  spoke,  although  in  the  same  tone,  it  was  with 
an  altered  spirit.  *'  But  God  forbid,"  he  said,  "  that  aught 
less  than  necessity  should  make  us,  the  Most  Christian  King, 
give  cause  to  the  effusion  of  Christian  blood,  if  anything 
short  of  dishonor  may  avert  such  a  calamity.  We  tender 
our  subjects'  safety  dearer  than  the  ruffle  which  our  own 
dignity  may  receive  from  the  rude  breath  of  a  malapert  am- 
bassador, who  hath  perhaps  exceeded  the  errand  with  which 
he  was  charged.  Admit  the  envoy  of  Burgundy  to  our 
presence.'' 

*'  Beati  pacifici"  said  the  Cardinal  Balue. 

"  True  ;  and  your  eminence  knoweth  that  they  who  hum- 
ble themselves  shall  be  exalted,"  added  the  King. 

The  cardinal  spoke  an  *^  Amen,"  to  which  few  assented  ; 
for  even  the  pale  cheek  of  Orleans  kindled  with  shame,  and 


QUENTIN  DURIVAB1> 


91 


Balafr6  suppressed  his  feelings  so  little  as  to  let  the  butt-end 
of  his  partizan  fall  heavily  on  the  floor — a  movement  of  impa- 
tience for  which  he  underwent  a  bitter  reproof  from  the  car- 
dinal, with  a  lecture  on  the  mode  of  handling  his  arms  when 
in  presence  of  the  sovereign.  The  King  himself  seemed  un- 
usually embarrassed  at  the  silence  around  him.  '^  You  are 
pensive,  Dunois,"  he  said.  "  You  disapprove  of  our  giving 
way  to  this  hot-headed  envoy. '^ 

"  By  no  means,"  said  Dunois  :  ''  I  meddle  not  with  mat- 
ters beyond  my  sphere.  1  was  but  thinking  of  asking  a 
boon  of  your  Majesty.''' 

*'  A  boon,  Dunois — what  is  it  ?  You  are  an  unfrequent 
suitor,  and  may  count  on  our  favor." 

^'I  would,  then,  your  Majesty  would  send  me  to  Evreux 
to  regulate  the  clergy,"  said  Dunois,  with  military  frank- 
ness. 

''That  were  indeed  beyond  thy  sphere,"  replied  the  King, 
smiling. 

"  I  might  order  priests  as  well,"  replied  the  count,  ''  as 
my  Lord  Bishop  of  Evreux,  or  my  lord  cardinal,  if  he  likes 
the  title  better,  can  exercise  the  soldiers  of  your  Majesty's 
Guard."  ... 

The  King  smiled  again,  and  more  mysteriously,  while  he 
whispered  Dunois,  ''  The  time  may  come  when  you  and  I 
will  regulate  the  priests  together.  But  this  is  for  the  pres- 
ent a  good  conceited  animal  of  a  bishop.  Ah,  Dunois  ! 
Rome — Rome  puts  him  and  other  burdens  upon  us.  But 
patience,  cousin,  and  shuffle  the  cards,  till  our  hand  is  a 
stronger  one."* 

The  flourish  of  trumpets  in  the  courtyard  now  announced 
fthe  arrival  of  the  Burgundian  nobleman.  All  in  the  pres- 
ience-chamber  made  haste  to  arrange  themselves  according 
ho  their  proper  places  of  precedence,  the  King  and  his  daugh- 
^ters  remaining  in  the  center  of  the  assembly. 

The  Count  of  Cr^vecoeur,  a  renowned  and  undaunted 
■warrior,  entered  the  apartment  ;  and,  contrary  to  the  usage 
famong  the  envoys  of  friendly  powers,  he  appeared  all  armed, 
^excepting  his  head,  in  a  gorgeous  suit  of  the  most  superb 
'Milan  armor,  made  of  steel,  inlaid  and  embossed  with  gold, 
'Which  was  wrought  into  the  fantastic  taste  called  the  ara- 
libesque.  Around  his  neck,  and  over  his  polished  cuirass, 
^hung  his  master's  order  of  the  Golden  Fleece,  f  one  of  the 
imost  honored  associations  of  chivalry  then  known  in  Chris- 

♦  See  Card-Playing.     Note  17. 

t  See  Note  18.  ,.,i 


^  WA V^RL^Y  NOVELS 

tendom.  A  handsome  page  bore  his  helmet  behind  him  ,  a 
herald  preceded  him,  bearing  his  letters  of  credence,  which 
he  offered  on  his  knee  to  the  King ;  while  the  ambassador 
himself  paused  in  the  midst  of  the  hall,  as  if  to  give  all  pres- 
ent time  to  admire  his  lofty  look,  commanding  stature,  and 
undaunted  composure  of  countenance  and  manner.  The 
rest  of  his  attendants  waited  in  the  ante-chamber,  or  court- 
yard. 

''  Approach,  Seignior  Count  de  Crdvecoeur,"  said  Louis, 
after  a  moment's  glance  at  his  commission  ;  '*  we  need  not 
our  cousin's  letters  of  credence  either  to  introduce  to  us  a 
warrior  so  well  known  or  to  assure  us  of  your  highly  de- 
served credit  with  your  master.  We  trust  that  your  fair 
partner,  who  shares  some  of  our  ancestral  blood,  is  in  good 
health.  Had  you  brought  her  in  your  liand,  seignior  count, 
we  might  have  thought  you  wore  your  armor,  on  this  un- 
wonted occasion,  to  maintain  the  superiority  of  her  charms 
against  the  amorous  chivalry  of  France.  As  it  is,  we  can- 
not guess  the  reason  of  this  complete  panoply.  ■*' 

*'  Sire,"  replied  the  ambassador,  ^'  the  Count  of  Creve- 
coeur  must  lament  his  misfortune,  and  entreat  your  forgive- 
ness, that  he  cannot,  on  this  occasion,  reply  with  such 
humble  deference  as  is  due  to  the  royal  courtesy  with  which 
your  Majesty  has  honored  him.  But,  although  it  is  only 
the  voice  of  Philip  Cr^vecoeur  de  Cordes  which  speaks,  the 
words  which  he  utters  must  be  those  of  his  gracious  lord 
and  sovereign  the  Duke  of  Burgundy. '* 

*'  And  what  has  Crevecoeur  to  say  in  the  words  of  Bur- 
gundy ?  "  said  Louis,  with  an  assumption  of  sufficient  dig- 
nity. '^  Yet  hold — remember,  that  in  this  presence  Philip 
Crevecoeur  de  Cordes  speaks  to  him  who  is  his  sovereign's 
sovereign." 

Crdvecoeur  bowed,  and  then  spoke  aloud:  ''King  of 
France,  the  mighty  Duke  of  Burgundy  once  more  sends 
you  a  written  schedule  of  the  wrongs  and  oppressions  com- 
mitted on  his  frpntiers  by  your  Majesty's  garrisons  and  offi- 
cers ;  and  the  first  point  of  inquiry  is,  whether  it  is  your 
Majesty's  purpose  to  make  him  amends  for  these  injuries  ?" 

The  King,  looking  slightly  at  the  memorial  which  the 
herald  delivered  to  him  upon  his  knee,  said,  "These  mat- 
ters have  been  already  long  before  our  council.  Of  the  in- 
juries complained  of,  some  are  in  requital  of  those  sustained 
by  my  subjects,  some  are  affirmed  without  any  proof,  some 
have  been  retaliated  by  the  Duke's  garrisons  and  soldiers  ; 
and  if  there  remain  any  which  fall  under  none  of  those  pre- 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  83 

dicaments,  we  are  not,  as  a  Christian  prince,  averse  to  make 
satisfaction  for  wrongs  actually  sustained  by  our  neighbor, 
though  committed  not  only  without  our  countenance  but 
against  our  express  order." 

*'  I  will  convey  your  Majesty's  answer,"  said  the  ambas- 
sador, "  to  my  most  gracious  master  ;  yet,  let  me  say  that, 
as  it  is  in  no  degree  different  from  the  evasive  replies  which 
have  already  been  returned  to  his  just  complaints,  I  cannot 
hope  that  it  will  afford  the  means  of  re-establishing  peace 
and  friendship  betwixt  France  and  Burgundy." 

*'  Be  that  at  God's  pleasure,"  said  the  King.  ^^  It  is  not 
for  dread  of  thy  master's  arms,  but  for  the  sake  of  peace 
only,  that  I  return  so  temperate  an  answer  to  his  injurious 
reproaches.     Proceed  with  thine  errand." 

''My  master's  next  demand,"  said  the  ambassador,  *^'is, 
that  your   Majesty  will  cease  your  secret  and  underhand 
dealings  with  his  towns  of  Ghent,  Liege,  and  Malines.     He 
requests  that  your  Majesty  will  recall  the  secret  agents  by 
whose  means  the  discontents  of  his  good  citizens  of  Flanders 
are  inflamed  ;  and  dismiss  from  your  Majesty's  dominions, 
or  rather  deliver  up  to  the  condign  punishment  of  their 
liege  lord,  those  traitorous  fugitives  who,  having  fled  from 
the  scene  of  their  machinations,  have  found  too  ready  a  ref- 
uge in  Paris,  Orleans,  Tours,  and  other  French  cities." 
"  Say  to   the   Duke   of   Burgundy,"   replied   the   King, 
that  I  know  of  no  such  indirect  practises  as  those  with 
^hich   he   injuriously  charges    me ;   that   my   subjects   of 
Vance  have  frequent  intercourse  with  the  good  cities  of 
'landers,  for  the  purpose  of  mutual  benefit  by  free  traffic, 
which  it  would  be  as  much  contrary  to  the  Duke's  interest 
as  mine  to  interrupt ;  and  that  many  Flemings  have  resi- 
dence in  my  kingdom,  and  enjoy  the  protection  of  my  laws, 
for  the  same  purpose  ;  but  none,  to  our  knowledge,  for  those 
of  treason  or  mutiny  against  the  Duke.     Proceed  with  your 
message  ;  you  have  heard  my  answer." 

"As  formerly,  sire,  with  pain,"  replied  the  Count  of 
Cr^vecceur ;  ''  it  not  being  of  that  direct  or  explicit  na- 
ture which  the  Duke,  my  master,  will  accept,  in  atone- 
ment for  a  long  train  of  secret  machinations,  not  the  less 
certain  though  now  disavowed  by  your  Majesty.  But  I 
proceed  with  my  message.  The  Duke  of  Burgundy  further 
requires  the  King  of  France  to  send  back  to  his  domin- 
ions without  delay,  and  under  a  secure  safeguard,  the 
persons  of  Isabelle  Countess  of  Croye,  and  of  her  rela- 
tion and  guardian  the   Countess  Hameline^  of  the  same 


94  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

family,  in  respect  the  said  Countess  Isabelle,  being,  by  the 
law  of  the  coiiiury  and  the  feudal  tenure  of  her  estates,  the 
ward  of  the  said  Duke  of  Burgundy,  hath  fled  from  his 
dominions,  and  from  the  charge  which  he,  as  a  careful 
guardian,  was  willing  to  extend  over  her,  and  is  here  main- 
tained in  secret  by  the  King  of  France,  and  by  him  fortified 
in  her  contumacy  to  the  Duke,  her  natural  lord  and  guardian, 
contrary  to  the  laws  of  God  and  man,  as  they  ever  have  been 
acknowledged  in  civilized  Europe.  Once  more  I  pause  for 
your  Majesty's  reply." 

"  You  did  well,  Count  de  Cr^vecoeur/'  said  Louis,  scorn- 
fully, '*  to  begin  your  embassy  at  an  early  hour  ;  for  if  it  be 
your  purpose  to  call  on  me  to  account  for  the  flight  of  every 
vassal  whom  your  master's  heady  passion  may  have  driven 
from  his  dominions,  the  bead-roll  may  last  till  sunset.  Who 
can  affirm  that  these  ladies  are  in  my  dominions  ?  Who  can 
presume  to  say,  if  it  be  so,  that  I  have  eitlier  countenanced 
their  flight  hither  or  have  received  them  with  offers  of  pro- 
tection ?  N'dj,  who  is  it  will  assert  that,  if  they  are  in 
France,  their  place  of  retirement  is  within  my  knowledge  ?*' 

"  Sire,"  said  Crevecceur,  ^'  may  it  please  your  Majesty,  I 
was  provided  with  a  witness  on  this  subject — one  who  be- 
held these  fugitive  ladies  in  the  inn  called  the  Fleur-de-Lys, 
not  far  from  this  castle  ;  one  who  saw  your  Majesty  in  their 
company,  though  under  the  unworthy  disguise  of  a  burgess 
of  Tours ;  one  who  received  from  them,  in  your  royal  pres- 
ence, messages  and  letters  to  their  friends  in  Flanders — all 
which  he  conveyed  to  the  hand  and  ear  of  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy." 

^' Bring  him  forward,"  said  the  King;  '^  place  the  man 
before  my  face  who  dares  maintain  these  palpable  false- 
hoods." 

*'  You  speak  in  triumph,  sire  ;  for  you  are  well  aware  that 
this  witness  no  longer  exists.  When  he  lived,  he  was  called 
Zamet  Maugrabin,  by  birth  one  of  those  Bohemian  wanderers. 
He  was  yesterday,  as  1  have  learned,  executed  by  a  party  of 
your  Majesty's  provost-marshal,  to  prevent,  doubtless, "his 
standing  here  to  verify  what  he  said  of  this  matter  to  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy,  in  presence  of  his  council,  and  of  me, 
Philip  Crevecceur  de  Cordes." 

"Inow,  by  our  Lady  of  Embrun  ! "  said  the  King,  "so 

fross  are  these  accusations,  and  so  free  of  consciousness  am 
of  aught  that  approaches  them,  that,  by  the  honor  of  a 
king,  I  laugh  rather  than  am  wroth  at  them.  My  provost- 
guard  daily  put  to  death,  as  is  their  duty,  thieves  and  vaga* 


QUENTIN  BURWABB  95 

oonds ;  and  is  my  crown  to  be  slandered  with  whatever 
these  thieves  and  vagabonds  may  have  said  to  our  hot  cousin 
of  Burgundy  and  his  wise  counselors  ?  I  pray  you,  tell  my 
kind  cousin,  if  he  loves  such  companions,  he  had  best  keep 
them  in  his  own  estates  ;  for  here  they  are  like  to  meet  short 
shrift  and  a  tight  cord/' 

^'  My  master  needs  no  such  subjects,  sir  king,"  answered 
the  count,  in  a  tone  more  disrespectful  than  he  had  yet  per- 
mitted himself  to  make  use  of ;  ^'^forthe  noble  Duke  uses 
not  to  inquire  of  witches,  wandering  Egyptians,  or  others 
upon  the  destiny  and  fate  of  his  neighbors  and  allies." 

"We  have  had  patience  enough  and  to  spare,"  said  the 
King,  interrupting  him ;  "and  since  thy  sole  errand  here 
seems  to  be  for  the  purpose  of  insult,  we  will  send  some  one 
in  our  name  to  the  Duke  of  Burgundy — convinced,  in  thus 
demeaning  thyself  towards  us,  thou  hast  exceeded  thy  com- 
mission, whatever  that  may  have  been." 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  Crdvecoeur,  "I  have  not  yet 
acquitted  myself  of  it.  Hearken,  Louis  of  Valois,  King  of 
France.  Hearken,  nobles  and  gentlemen  who  may  be 
present.  Hearken,  all  good  and  true  men.  And  thou, 
Toison  d'Or,"  addressing  the  herald,  "  make  proclamation 
after  me,  I,  Philip  Cr^vecoeur  of  Cordes,  Count  of  the 
Empire,  and  Knight  of  the  honorable  and  princely  Order  of 
the  Golden  Fleece,  in  the  name  of  the  most  puissant  Lord 
and  Prince,  Charles,  by  the  grace  of  God,  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy and  Lotharingia,  of  Brabant  and  Limbourg,  of  Lux- 
embourg and  of  Gueldres,  Earl  of  Flanders  and  of  Artois, 
Count  Palatine  of  Hainault,  of  Holland,  Zealand,  Namur, 
and  Zutphen,  Marquis  of  the  Holy  Empire,  Lord  of  Frieze- 
land,  Salines,  and  Malines,  do  give  you,  Louis,  King  of 
France,  openly  to  know,  that,  you  having  refused  to  remedy 
the  various  griefs,  wrongs,  and  offenses  done  and  wrought 
by  you,  or  by  and  through  your  aid,  suggestion,  and  insti- 
gation, against  the  said  Duke  and  his  loving  subjects,  he, 
by  my  mouth,  renounces  all  allegiance  and  fealty  towards 
your  crown  and  dignity,  pronounces  you  false  and  faithless, 
and  defies  you  as  a  prince  and  as  a  man.  There  lies  my 
gage,  in  evidence  of  what  I  have  said.'' 

So  saying,  he  plucked  the  gauntlet  off  his  right  hand  and 
flung  it  down  on  the  floor  of  the  hall. 

Until  this  last  climax  of  audacity,  there  had  been  a  deep 
silence  in  the  royal  apartment  during  the  extraordinary 
scene ;  but  no  sooner  had  the  clash  of  the  gauntlet,  when 
cast  down,  been  echoed  by  the  deep  voice  of  Toison  d'Or, 


M  WAVERLEV  NOVELS 

the  Burgimdian  herald,  with  the  ejaculation,  ''  Vive  Bour- 
ffogne '' than  there  was  a  general  tumult.  While  Dunois, 
Orleans,  old  Lord  Crawford,  and  one  or  two  others,  whose 
rank  authorized  their  interference,  contended  which  should 
lift  up  the  gauntlet,  the  others  in  the  hall  exclaimed, 
*' Strike  him  down  !  Cut  him  to  pieces!  Comes  he  here 
to  insult  the  King  of  France  in  his  own  palace  ?  " 

But  the  King  appeased  the  tumult  by  exclaiming,  in  a 
voice  like  thunder,  which  overawed  and  silenced  every  other 
sound,  "  Silence,  my  lieges  !  lay  not  a  hand  on  the  man, 
not  a  finger  on  the  gage.  And  you,  sir  count,  of  what  is 
your  life  composed  or  how  is  it  warranted,  that  you  thus 
place  it  on  the  cast  of  a  die  so  perilous  ?  Or  is  your  duke 
made  of  a  different  metal  from  other  princes,  since  he  thus 
asserts  his  pretended  quarrel  in  a  manner  so  unusual  ?  " 

"He  is  indeed  framed  of  a  different  and  more  noble  metal 
than  the  other  princes  of  Europe, '^  said  the  undaunted 
Count  of  Crevecoeur ;  "  for,  when  not  one  of  them  dared  to 
give  shelter  to  you — to  you,  I  say.  King  Louis — when  you 
were  yet  only  Dauphin,  an  exile  from  France,  and  pursued 
by  the  whole  bitterness  of  your  father's  revenge  and  all  the 
power  of  his  kingdom,  you  were  received  and  protected  like 
a  brother  by  my  noble  master,  whose  generosity  of  disposi- 
tion you  have  so  grossly  misused.  Farewell,  sire,  my  mis- 
sion is  discharged.'' 

So  saying,  the  Count  de  Crevecoeur  left  the  apartment 
abruptly,  and  without  farther  leave-taking. 

*'  After  him — after  him — take  up  the  gauntlet  and  after 
him  \"  said  the  King.  ''I  mean  not  you,  Dunois,  nor  you, 
my  Lord  of  Crawford,  who,  methinks,  may  be  too  old  for 
such  hot  frays  ;  nor  you,  cousin  of  Orleans,  who  are  too 
young  for  them.  My  lord  cardinal — my  Lord  Bishop  of 
Auxerre — it  is  your  holy  office  to  make  peace  among  princes  ; 
do  you  lift  the  gauntlet,  and  remonstrate  with  Count  Creve- 
ceceur  on  the  sin  he  has  committed,  in  thus  insulting  a  great 
monarch  in  his  own  court,  and  forcing  us  to  bring  the 
miseries  of  war  upon  his  kingdom  and  that  of  his  neighbor." 

Upon  this  direct  personal  appeal,  the  Cardinal  Balue  pro- 
ceeded to  lift  the  gauntlet,  with  such  precaution  as  one 
would  touch  an  adder — so  great  was  apparently  his  aversion 
to  this  symbol  of  war — and  preseritly  left  the  royal  apart- 
ment to  hasten  after  the  challenger^ 

Louis  paused  and  looked  round  the  circle  of  his  courtiers, 
most  of  whom,  except  such  as  we  have  already  distinguished, 
being  men  of  low  hirth,  and  raised  to  their  rank  in  thi 


QUENTIN  DURWABD  VI 

King's  household  for  other  gifts  than  courage  or  feats  of 
arms,  looked  pale  on  each  other,  and  had  obviously  received 
an  unpleasant  impression  from  the  scene  which  had  been 
just  acted.  Louis  gazed  on  them  with  contempt,  and  then 
said  aloud,  '^Although  the  Count  of  Crevecoeur  be  pre- 
sumptuous and  overweening,  it  must  be  confessed  that  in 
him  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  hath  as  bold  a  servant  as  ever 
bore  message  for  a  prince.  I  would  I  knew  where  to  find  as 
faithful  an  envoy  to  carry  back  my  answer.^' 

"  You  do  your  French  nobles  injustice,  sire,"  said  Dunois  ; 
''not  one  of  them  but  would  carry  a  defiance  to  Burgundy 
on  the  point  of  his  sword." 

''And,  sire,"  said  old  Crawford,  "you  wrong  also  the 
Scottish  gentlemen  who  serve  you.  I,  or  any  of  my  fol- 
lowers, being  of  meet  rank,  would  not  hesitate  a  moment  to 
call  yonder  proud  count  to  a  reckoning  ;  my  own  arm  is  yet 
strong  enough  for  the  purpose,  if  I  had  but  your  Majesty's 
permission." 

"But  your  Majesty,"  continued  Dunois,  "  will  employ  us 
in  no  service  through  which  we  may  win  honor  to  ourselves, 
to  your  Majesty,  or  to  France." 

"  Say,  rather,"  said  the  King,  "  that  I  will  not  give  way, 
Dunois,  to  the  headlong  impetuosity  which,  on  some  punc- 
tilio of  chivalry,  would  wreck  yourselves,  the  throne, 
France,  and  all.  There  is  not  one  of  you  who  knows  not 
how  precious  every  hour  of  peace  is  at  this  moment,  when  so 
necessary  to  heal  the  wounds  of  a  distracted  country  ;  yet 
there  is  not  one  of  you  who  would  not  rush  into  war  on  account 
of  the  tale  of  a  wandering  gipsy,  or  of  some  errant  damosel, 
whose  reputation,  perhaps,  is  scarce  higher.  Here  comes 
the  cardinal,  and  we  trust  with  more  pacific  tidings.  How 
now,  my  lord — have  you  brought  the  count  to  reason  and  to 
temper  ?" 

"  Sire,"  said  Balue,  "  my  task  hath  been  difficult.  I  put 
it  to  yonder  proud  count,  how  he  dared  to  use  towards  your 
Majesty  the  presumptuous  reproach  with  which  his  audience 
had  broken  up,  and  which  must  be  understood  as  proceed- 
ing, not  from  his  master,  but  from  his  own  insolence,  and 
as  placing  him  therefore  in  your  Majesty's  discretion,  for 
what  penalty  you  might  think  proper." 

"  You  said  right,"  replied  the  King  ;  "and  what  was  his 
answer  ?" 

"  The  count,"  continued  the  cardinal,  "  had  at  that  mo- 
ment his  foot  in  the  stirrup,  ready  to  mount ;  and,  on  hear- 
ing my  expostulation^  he  turned  his  head  without  altering 
7 


98  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

his  position.  ''  Had  I,"  said  he,  '^  been  fifty  leagues  distant, 
and  had  heard  by  report  that  a  question  vituperative  of  my 
prince  had  been  asked  by  the  King  of  France,  I  had,  even  at 
that  distance,  instantly  mounted,  and  returned  to  disburden 
my  mind  of  the  answer  which  I  gave  him  but  now/' 

*'  I  said,  sirs,"  said  the  King,  turning  around,  without  any 
show  of  angry  emotion,  *Hhat  in  the  Count  Philip  of  Crd- 
vecoeur,  our  cousin  the  Duke  possesses  as  worthy  a  servant 
as  ever  rode  at  a  prince's  right  hand.  But  you  prevailed 
with  him  to  stay  ?  " 

"  To  stay  for  twenty-four  hours  ;  and  in  the  meanwhile  to 
receive  again  his  gage  of  defiance,"  said  the  cardinal  :  *'  he 
has  dismounted  at  the  Fleur-de-Lys." 

"  See  that  he  be  nobly  atttended  and  cared  for  at  our 
charges,"  said  the  King;  '^such  a  servant  is  a  jewel  in  a 
a  prince's  crown.  *^  Twenty-four  hours  !  "  he  added,  mut- 
tering to  himself,  and,  looking  as  if  he  were  stretching  his 
eyes  to  see  into  futurity — "  twenty-four  hours  !  'tis  of  the 
shortest.  Yet  twenty-four  hours,  ably  and  skilfully  em- 
ployed, may  be  worth  a  year  in  the  hand  of  indolent  or  in- 
capable agents.  Well.  To  the  forest — to  the  forest,  my 
gallant  lords  !  Orleans,  my  fair  kinsman,  lay  aside  that 
modesty,  though  it  becomes  you  ;  mind  not  my  Joan's 
coyness.  The  Loire  may  as  soon  avoid  mingling  with  the 
Cher  as  she  from  favoring  your  suit,  or  you  from  preferring 
it,"  he  added,  as  the  unhappy  prince  moved  slowly  on  after 
his  betrothed  bride.  "  And  now  for  your  boar-spears,  gen 
tlemen  ;  for  AUegre,  my  pricker,  hath  harbored  one  that 
that  will  try  both  dog  and  man.  Dunois,  lend  me  your 
spear  ;  take  mine,  it  is  too  weighty  for  me  ;  but  when  did 
you  complain  of  such  a  fault  in  your  lance  ?  To  horse — to 
horse,  gentlemen." 

And  all  the  chase  rode  on. 


^^iiU'ro'.*  ,•  :'-,ji  /;  .^e; 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE   BOAK-HUNT 

I  will  converse  with  un respective  boys 
And  iron-witted  fools.     None  are  for  me 
That  look  into  me  with  suspicious  eyes. 

King  Richard. 

All  the  experience  which  the  cardinal  had  been  able  to  col- 
lect of  his  master's  disposition  did  not,  upon  the  present 
occasion,  prevent  his  falling  into  a  great  error  of  policy. 
His  vanity  induced  him  to  think  that  he  had  been  more  suc- 
cessful in  prevailing  upon  the  Count  of  Crevecoeur  to  remain 
at  Tours  than  any  other  moderator  whom  the  King  might 
have  employed  would,  in  all  probability,  have  been.  And  as 
he  wa?  well  aware  of  the  importance  which  Louis  attached 
to  the  postponement  of  a  war  with  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  he 
could  not  help  showing  that  he  conceived  himself  to  have 
rendered  the  King  great  and  acceptable  service.  He  pressed 
nearer  to  the  King's  person  than  he  was  wont  to  do,  and  en- 
deavored to  engage  him  in  conversation  on  the  events  of  the 
morning. 

This  was  injudicious  in  more  respects  than  one  ;  for 
princes  love  not  to  see  their  subjects  approach  them  with 
an  air  conscious  of  deserving,  and  thereby  seeming  desir- 
ous to  extort  acknowledgment  and  recompense  for  their 
services  ;  and  Louis,  the  most  jealous  monarch  that  ever 
lived,  was  peculiarly  averse  and  inaccessible  to  any  one  who 
seemed  either  to  presume  upon  service  rendered  or  to  pry 
into  his  secrets. 

Yet,  hurried  away,  as  the  most  cautious  sometimes  are, 
by  the  self-satisfied  humor  of  the  moment,  the  cardinal  con- 
tinued to  ride  on  the  King's  right  hand,  turning  the  dis- 
course, whenever  it  was  possible,  upon  Crevecoeur  and  his 
embassy  ;  which,  although  it  might  be  the  matter  at  that 
moment  most  in  the  King's  thoughts,  was  nevertheless  pre- 
cisely that  which  he  was  least  willing  to  converse  on.  At 
length  Louis,  who  had  listened  to  him  with  attention,  yet 
without  having  returned  any  answer  which  could  tend  to 

90 


100  WA  VERLEY  NO VELS 

prolong  the  conversation,  signed  to  Dunois,  who  rode  at  no 
great  distance,  to  come  up  on  the  other  side  of  his  horse. 

**  We  came  hither  for  sport  and  exercise,"  said  he,  "  but 
the  reverend  father  here  would  have  us  hold  a  council  of  state." 

'^  I  hope  your  Highness  will  excuse  my  assistance,"  said 
Dunois  ;  ^^  I  am  born  to  fight  the  battles  of  France,  and  have 
heart  and  hand  for  that,  but  I  have  no  head  for  her  councils." 

''  My  lord  cardinal  hath  a  head  turned  for  nothing  else, 
Dunois,"  answered  Louis  ;  ^*  he  hath  confessed  Crevecoeur 
at  the  castle  gate,  and  he  hath  communicated  to  us  his 
whole  shrift.  Said  you  not  the  whole  9  "  he  continued,  with 
an  emphasis  on  the  word,  and  a  glance  at  the  cardinal, 
which  shot  from  betwixt  his  long  dark  eyelashes,  as  a  dagger 
gleams  when  it  leaves  the  scabbard. 

The  cardinal  trembled,  as,  endeavoring  to  reply  to  the 
King's  jest,  he  said,  "  That  though  his  order  were  obliged 
to  conceal  the  secrets  of  their  penitents  in  general,  there 
was  no  sigillum  confessionis  which  could  not  be  melted  at 
his  Majesty's  breath." 

'^  And  as  his  Eminence,"  said  the  King,  ''^is  ready  to 
communicate  the  secrets  of  others  to  us,  he  naturally  ex- 
pects that  we  should  be  equally  communicative  to  him  ;  and, 
in  order  to  get  upon  this  reciprocal  footing,  he  is  very 
reasonably  desirous  to  know  if  these  two  Ladies  of  Croye  be 
actually  in  our  territories.  We  are  sorry  we  cannot  indulge 
his  curiosity,  not  ourselves  knowing  in  what  precise  place 
errant  damsels,  disguised  princesses,  distressed  countesses, 
may  lie  leaguer  within  our  dominions,  which  are,  we  thank 
God  and  our  Lady  of  Embrun,  rather  too  extensive  for  us 
to  answer  easily  his  Eminence's  most  reasonable  inquiries. 
But  supposing  they  were  with  us,  what  say  you,  Dunois,  to 
our  cousin's  peremptory  demand  ?" 

^'  I  will  answer  you,  my  liege,  if  you  will  tell  me  in  sin- 
cerity whether  you  want  war  or  peace,"  replied  Dunois,  with 
a  frankness  which,  while  it  arose  out  of  his  own  native  open- 
ness and  intrepidity  of  character,  made  him  from  time  to 
time  a  considerable  favorite  with  Louis,  who,  like  all  astu- 
cious  persons,  was  as  desirous  of  looking  into  the  hearts  of 
others  as  of  concealing  his  own. 

"By  my  halidome,"  said  he,  ''  I  should  be  as  well  con- 
tented as  thyself,  Dunois,  to  tell  thee  my  purpose,  did  I 
myself  but  know  it  exactly.  But  say  I  declared  for  war, 
what  should  I  do  with  this  beautiful  and  wealthy  young 
heiress,  supposing  her  to  be  in  my  dominions  ?" 

"Bestow  her  in  marriage  on  one  of  your  own  gallant  fol- 


QUENTIN  DURWABD  101 

lowers,  who  has  a  heart  to  love  and  an  arm  to  protect  her/' 
said  Diinois. 

"Upon  thyself,  ha?^'  said  the  King.  "  Fasques-dieu ! 
thou  art  more  politic  than  I  took  thee  for,  with  all  thy 
bluutness/' 

'*Nay,  sire,"  answered  Dunois,  "  I  am  aught  except  pol- 
itic. By  our  Lady  of  Orleans,  I  come  to  the  point  at  once, 
as  I  ride  my  horse  at  the  ring.  Your  Majesty  owes  the 
house  of  Orleans  at  least  one  happy  marriage.'" 

''  And  I  will  pay  it,  count — Pasques-dieu,  I  will  pay  it ! 
See  you  not  yonder  fair  couple  ?" 

The  King  pointed  to  the  unhappy  Duke  of  Orleans  and 
the  Princess,  who,  neither  daring  to  remain  at  a  greater  dis- 
tance from  the  King  nor  in  his  sight  appear  separate  from 
each  other,  were  riding  side  by  side,  yet  with  an  interval  of 
two  or  three  yards  betwixt  them — a  space  which  timidity  on 
the  one  side  and  aversion  on  the  other  prevented  them  from 
diminishing,  while  neither  dared  to  increase  it. 

Dunois  looked  in  the  direction  of  the  King's  signal,  and 
as  the  situation  of  his  unfortunate  relative  and  the  destined 
bride  reminded  him  of  nothing  so  much  as  of  two  dogs, 
which,  forcibly  linked  together,  remain  nevertheless  as 
widely  separated  as  the  length  of  their  collars  will  permit, 
he  could  not  help  shaking  his  head,  though  he  ventured  not 
on  any  other  reply  to  the  hypocritical  tyrant.  Louis  seemed 
to  guess  his  thoughts. 

"  It  will  be  a  peaceful  and  quiet  household  they  will  keep 
— not  much  disturbed  with  children,  I  should  augur.*  But 
these  are  not  always  a  blessing.'' 

It  was,  perhaps,  the  recollection  of  his  own  filial  ingrati- 
tude that  made  the  King  pause  as  he  uttered  the  last  reflec- 
tion, and  which  converted  the  sneer  that  trembled  on  his 
lip  into  something  resembling  an  expression  of  contrition. 
But  he  instantly  proceeded  in  another  tone. 

"  Frankly,  my  Dunois,  much  as  I  revere  the  holy  sacra- 
ment of  matrimony  (here  he  crossed  himself),  I  would  rather 
the  house  of  Orleans  raised  for  me  such  gallant  soldiers  as 
thy  father  and  thyself,  who  share  the  blood-royal  of  France 
without  claiming  its  rights,  than  that  the  country  should  be 
torn  to  pieces,  like  to  England,  by  wars  arising  from  the 
rivalry  of  legitimate  candidates  for  the  crown.  The  lion 
should  never  have  more  than  cub." 

Dunois  sighed  and  was  silent,  conscious  that  contradicting 
his  arbitrary  sovereign  might  well  hurt  his  kinsman's  inter- 
*  See  Louis  and  his  daughter.    Note  19. 


102  WA  VERLEY  lY  O  VELS 

ests,  but  could  do  him  no  service ;  yet  he  could  not  forheai 
adding,  in  the  next  moment — 

"  Since  your  Majesty  has  alluded  to  the  birth  of  my  father, 
I  must  needs  own  that,  setting  the  frailty  of  his  parents  on 
one  side,  he  might  be  termed  happier,  and  more  fortunate, 
as  the  son  of  lawless  love  than  of  conjugal  hatred/^ 

^*  Thou  art  a  scandalous  fellow,  Dunois,  to  speak  thus  of 
holy  wedlock/'  answered  Louis,  jestingly.  *'  But  to  the 
devil  with  the  discourse,  for  the  boar  is  unharbored.  Lay  on 
the  dogs,  in  the  name  of  the  holy  St.  Hubert  !  Ha  !  ha  ! 
tra-la-la-lira-la  !  "  And  the  King^s  horn  rung  merrily  through 
the  woods  as  he  pushed  forward  on  the  chase,  followed  by 
two  or  three  of  his  guards,  amongst  whom  was  our  friend 
Quentin  Durward.  And  here  it  was  remarkable  that,  even 
in  the  keen  prosecution  of  his  favorite  sport,  the  King,  in 
indulgence  of  his  caustic  disposition,  found  leisure  to  amuse 
himself  by  tormenting  Cardinal  Balue. 

It  was  one  of  that  able  statesman's  weaknesses,  as  we  have 
elsewhere  hinted,  to  suppose  himself,  though  of  low  rank  and 
limited  education,  qualified  to  play  the  courtier  and  the  man 
of  gallantry.  He  did  not,  indeed,  actually  enter  the  lists  of 
chivalrous  combat,  like  Becket,  or  levy  soldiers  like  Wolsey. 
But  gallantry,  in  which  they  also  were  proficients,  was  his  pro- 
fessed pursuit ;  and  he  likewise  affected  great  fondness  for  the 
martial  amu  sement  of  the  chase.  Yet,  however  well  he  might 
succeed  with  certain  ladies,  to  whom  his  power,  his  wealth, 
and  his  influence  as  a  statesman  might  atone  for  deficiencies 
in  appearance  and  manners,  the  gallant  horses,  which  he  pur- 
chased at  almost  any  price,  were  totally  insensible  to  the 
dignity  of  carrying  a  cardinal,  and  paid  no  more  respect  to 
him  that  they  would  have  done  to  his  father,  the  carter, 
miller,  or  tailor,  whom  he  rivaled  in  horsemanship.  The 
King  knew  this,  and,  by  alternately  exciting  and  checking 
his  own  horse,  he  brought  that  of  the  cardinal,  whom  he 
kept  close  by  his  side,  into  such  a  state  of  mutiny  against 
his  rider  that  it  became  apparent  they  must  soon  part  com- 
pany ;  and  then,  in  the  midst  of  its  starting,  bolting,  rearing, 
and  lashing  out  alternately,  the  royal  tormentor  rendered 
the  rider  miserable,  by  questioning  him  upon  many  affairs 
of  importance,  and  hinting  his  purpose  to  take  that  oppor- 
tunity of  communicating  to  him  some  of  those  secrets  of  state 
which  the  cardinal  had  but  a  little  while  before  seemed  so 
anxious  to  learn.* 

A  more  awkward  situation  could  hardly  be  imagined  than 

*  See  Balue's  Horsemanship.    Note  ^0. 


Quentin  Durwanl. 


qUENTIN  DUB  WARD  103 

that  of  a  privy-coimcilor  forced  to  listen  to  and  reply  to  his 
sovereign  while  each  fresh  gambade  of  his  unmanageable 
horse  placed  him  in  a  new  and  more  precarious  attitude — his 
violet  robe  flying  loose  in  every  direction,  and  nothing  se- 
curing him  from  an  instant  and  perilous  fall  save  the  depth 
of  the  saddle,  and  its  height  before  and  behind.  Dunois 
laughed  without  restraint ;  while  the  King,  who  had  a  pri- 
vate mode  of  enjoying  his  jest  inwardly,  without  laughing 
aloud,  mildly  rebuked  his  minister  on  his  eager  passion  for 
the  chase,  which  would  not  permit  him  to  dedicate  a  few 
moments  to  business.  "  I  will  no  longer  be  your  hinderance 
to  a  course,"  continued  he,  addressing  the  terrified  cardinal, 
and  giving  his  own  horse  the  rein  at  the  same  time. 

Before  Balue  could  utter  a  word  by  way  of  answer  or  apo- 
logy, his  horse,  seizing  the  bit  with  his  teeth,  went  forth  at 
an  uncontrollable  gallop,  soon  leaving  behind  the  King  and 
Dunois,  who  followed  at  a  more  regulated  pace,  enjoying  the 
statesman's  distressed  predicament.  If  any  of  our  readers 
has  chanced  to  be  run  away  with  in  his  time,  as  we  ourselves 
have  in  ours,  he  will  have  a  full  sense  at  once  of  the  pain, 
peril,  and  absurdity  of  the  situation.  Those  four  limbs  of 
the  quadruped,  which,  no  way  under  the  rider's  control,  nor 
sometimes  under  that  of  the  creature  they  more  properly  be- 
long to,  fly  at  such  a  rate  as  if  the  hindermost  meant  to  over- 
take the  foremost ;  those  clinging  legs  of  the  biped  which 
we  so  often  wish  safely  planted  on  the  greensward,  but  which 
now  only  augment  our  distress  by  pressing  the  animal's  sides; 
the  hands  which  have  forsaken  the  bridle  for  the  mane  ;  the 
body  which,  instead  of  sitting  upright  on  the  center  of  gra- 
vity, as  old  Angelo  used  to  recommend,  or  stooping  forward 
like  a  jockey's  at  Newmarket,lies,  rather  than  hangs, crouched 
upon  the  back  of  the  animal,  with  no  better  chance  of 
saving  itself  than  a  sack  of  corn — combine  to  make  a  picture 
more  than  sufficiently  ludicrous  to  spectators,  however  un- 
comfortable to  the  exhibiter.  But  add  to  this  some  singu- 
larity of  dress  or  appearance  on  the  part  of  the  unhappy 
cavalier — a  robe  of  office,  a  splendid  uniform,  or  any  other 
peculiarity  of  costume — and  let  the  scene  of  action  be  a  race- 
course, a  review,  a  procession,  or  any  other  place  of  con- 
course and  public  display,  and  if  the  poor  wight  would  escape 
being  the  object  of  a  shout  of  inextinguishable  laughter,  he 
must  contrive  to  break  a  limb  or  two,  or,  which  will  be  more 
effectual,  to  be  killed  on  the  spot  ;  for  on  no  slighter  condi- 
tion will  his  fall  excite  anything  like  serious  sympathy.  On 
the  present  occ^ion,  th^  short  violet- colored  gown  of  the 


104  WA  VERLEY  NO  V^ELS 

cardinal,  which  he  used  as  a  riding-dress  (having  changed 
his  long  robes  before  he  lef  b  the  castle),  his  scarlet  stockings 
and  scarlet  hat,  with  the  long  strings  hanging  down,  together 
with  his  utter  helplessness,  gave  infinite  zest  to  his  exhi- 
bition of  horsemanship. 

The  horse,  having  taken  matters  entirely  into  his  own  hand, 
flew  rather  than  galloped  up  a  long  green  avenue,  overtook 
the  pack  in  hard  pursuit  of  the  boar,  and  then,  having  over- 
turned one  or  two  yeomen-prickers,  who  little  expected  to 
be  charged  in  the  rear,  having  ridden  down  several  dogs,  and 
greatly  confused  the  chase,  animated  by  the  clamorous  ex- 
postulations and  threats  of  the  huntsman,  carried  the  terrified 
cardinal  past  the  formidable  animal  itself,  which  was  rushing 
on  at  a  speedy  trot,  furious  and  embossed  with  the  foam  which 
he  churned  around  his  tusks.  Balue,  on  beholding  himself 
so  near  the  boar,  set  up  a  dreadful  cry  for  help,  which,  or 
perhaps  the  sight  of  the  boar,  produced  such  an  effect  on  his 
horse,  that  the  animal  interrupted  its  headlong  career  by 
suddenly  springing  to  one  side  ;  so  that  the  cardinal,  who  had 
long  kept  his  seat  only  because  the  motion  was  straight  for- 
ward, now  fell  heavily  to  the  ground.  The  conclusion  of 
Balue^s  chase  took  place  so  near  the  boar  that,  had  not  the 
animal  been  at  that  moment  too  much  engaged  about  his 
own  affairs,  the  vicinity  might  have  proved  as  fatal  to  the 
cardinal  as  it  is  said  to  have  done  to  Favila,  king  of  the 
Visigoths,  of  Spain.  The  powerful  churchman  got  off,  how- 
ever, for  the  fright,  and,  crawling  as  hastily  as  he  could  out 
of  the  way  of  hounds  and  huntsmen,  saw  the  whole  chase 
sweep  by  him  without  affording  him  assistance  ;  for  hunters 
in  those  days  were  as  little  moved  by  sympathy  for  such 
misfortunes  as  they  are  in  our  own. 

The  King,  as  he  passed,  said  to  Dunois,  "  Yonder  lies  his 
Eminence  low  enough  ;  he  is  no  great  huntsman,  though  for 
a  fisher,  when  a  secret  is  to  be  caught,  he  may  match  St. 
Peter  himself.  He  has,  however,  for  once,  I  think,  met  with 
his  match." 

The  cardinal  did  not  hear  the  words,  but  the  scornful  look 
with  which  they  were  spoken  led  him  to  suspect  their  general 
import.  The  devil  is  said  to  seize  such  opportunities  of 
temptation  as  was  now  afforded  by  the  passions  of  Balue, 
bitterly  moved  as  they  had  been  by  the  scorn  of  the  King. 
The  momentary  fright  was  over  as  soon  as  he  had  assured 
himself  that  his  fall  was  harmless  ;  but  mortified  vanity,  and 
resentment  against  his  sovereign,  had  a  much  longer  influence 
on  his  feelings. 


qUJSNTm  DVnWARD  106 

After  all  the  chase  had  passed  him,  a  single  cavalier,  who 
seemed  rather  to  be  a  spectator  than  a  partaker  of  thesport, 
rode  up  with  one  or  two  attendants,  and  expressed  no  small 
surprise  to  find  the  cardinal  upon  the  ground,  without  a  horse 
or  attendants,  and  in  such  a  plight  as  plainly  showed  the 
nature  of  the  accident  which  had  placed  him  there.  To  dis- 
mount and  offer  his  assistance  in  this  predicament,  to  cause 
one  of  his  attendants  resign  a  staid  and  quiet  palfrey  for  the 
cardinaFs  use,  to  express  his  surprise  at  the  customs  of  the 
French  court,  which  thus  permitted  them  to  abandon  to  the 
danger  of  the  chase,  and  forsake  in  his  need,  their  wisest 
statesman,  were  the  natural  modes  of  assistance  and  conso- 
lation which  so  strange  a  rencontre  supplied  to  Crevecoeur ; 
for  it  was  the  Burgundian  ambassador  who  came  to  the  as- 
sistance of  the  fallen  cardinal. 

He  found  the  minister  in  a  lucky  time  and  humor  for 
essaying  some  of  those  practises  on  his  fidelity  to  which  it  is 
well  known  that  Balue  had  the  criminal  weakness  to  listen. 
Already  in  the  morning,  as  the  jealous  temper  of  Louis  had 
suggested,  more  had  passed  betwixt  them  than  the  cardinal 
durst  have  reported  to  his  master.  But  although  he  had 
listened  with  gratified  ears  to  the  high  value  which,  he  was 
assured  by  Crevecoeur,  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  placed  upon 
his  person  and  talents,  and  not  without  a  feeling  of  tempta- 
tion, when  the  count  hinted  at  the  munificence  of  his  master's 
disposition,  and  the  rich  benefices  of  Flanders,  it  was  not 
until  the  accident,  as  we  have  related,  had  highly  irritated 
him,  that,  stung  with  wounded  vanity,  he  resolved  in  a  fatal 
hour,  to  show  Louis  XL  that  no  enemy  can  be  so  dangerous 
as  an  offended  friend  and  confidant. 

On  the  present  occasion,  he  hastily  requested  Crdvecoeur 
to  separate  from  him,  lest  they  should  be  observed,  but  ap- 
pointed him  a  meeting  for  the  evening  in  the  abbey  of  St. 
Martin's  at  Tours,  after  vesper  service,  and  that  in  a  tone 
which  assured  the  Burgundian  that  his  master  had  obtained 
an  advantage  hardly  to  have  been  hoped  for,  except  in  such 
a  moment  of  exasperation. 

In  the  meanwhile,  Louis,  who,  though  the  most  politic 
prince  of  his  time,  upon  this,  as  upon  other  occasions,  had 
suffered  his  passions  to  interfere  with  his  prudence,  followed 
contentedly  the  chase  of  the  wild  boar,  which  was  now  come 
to  an  interesting  point.  It  had  so  happened  that  a  sounder 
(i  e.,  in  the  language  of  the  period,  a  boar  of  only  two  years 
old)  had  crossed  the  track  of  the  proper  object  of  the  chase, 
and  withdrawn  in  pursuit  of  him  ail  the  dogs,  except  two  or 


iOe  WAVS^LEY  NOVELS 

three  couple  of  old  stanch  hounds,  and  the  greater  part  of 
the  huntsmen.  The  King  saw,  with  internal  glee,  Dunois, 
as  well  as  others,  follow  upon  this  false  scent,  and  enjoyed 
in  secret  the  thought  of  triumphing  over  that  accomplished 
knight  in  the  art  of  venerie,  which  was  then  thought  almost 
as  glorious  as  war.  Louis  was  well  mounted  and  followed 
close  on  the  hounds  ;  so  that  when  the  original  boar  turned 
to  bay  in  a  marshy  piece  of  ground,  there  was  no  one  near 
him  but  the  king  himself. 

Louis  showed  all  the  bravery  and  expertness  of  an  experi- 
enced huntsman  ;  for,  unheeding  the  danger,  he  rode  up  to 
the  tremendous  animal,  which  was  defending  itself  with  fury 
against  the  dogs,  and  struck  him  with  his  boar-spear  ;  yet,  as 
the  horse  shied  from  the  boar,  the  blow  was  not  so  eifectual 
as  either  to  kill  c>r  disable  him.  No  effort  could  prevail  on 
the  horse  to  charge  the  second  time  ;  so  that  the  King,  dis- 
mounting, advanced  on  foot  against  the  furious  animal,  hold- 
ing naked  in  his  hand  one  of  those  short,  sharp,  straight, 
and  pointed  swords  which  huntsmen  used  for  such  encounters. 
The  boar  instantly  quitted  the  dogs  to  rush  on  his  human 
enemy,  while  the  King,  taking  his  station,  and  posting  him- 
self firmly,  presented  the  sword,  with  the  purpose  of  aiming 
it  at  the  boards  throat,  or  rather  chest,  within  the  collar-bone  ; 
in  which  case,  the  weight  of  the  beast,  and  the  impetuosity  of 
its  career,  would  have  served  to  accelerate  its  own  destruc- 
tion. But,  owing  to  the  wetness  of  the  ground,  the  King's  foot 
slipped,  just  as  this  delicate  and  perilous  maneuver  ought 
to  have  been  accomplished,  so  that  the  point  of  the  sword 
encountering  the  cuirass  of  bristles  on  the  outside  of  the 
creature^'s  shoulder,  glanced  off  without  making  any  impres- 
sion, and  Louis  fell  flat  on  the  ground.  This  was  so  far  for- 
tunate for  the  monarch,  because  the  animal,  owing  to  the 
King's  fall,  missed  his  blow  in  his  turn,  and  in  passing  only 
rent  with  his  tusk  the  King's  short  hunting-cloak,  instead 
of  ripping  up  his  thigh.  But  when,  after  running  a  little 
ahead  in  the  fury  of  his  course,  the  boar  turned  to  repeat 
his  attack  on  the  King  at  the  moment  when  he  was  rising, 
the  life  of  Louis  was  in  imminent  danger.  At  this  critical 
moment,  Quentin  Durward,  who  had  been  thrown  out  in  the 
chase  by  the  slowness  of  his  horse,  but  who,  nevertheless, 
had  luckily  distinguished  and  followed  the  blast  of  the  King's 
horn,  rode  up  and  transfixed  the  animal  with  his  spear. 

The  King,  who  had  by  this  time  recovered  his  feet,  came 
in  turn  to  Durward's  assistance,  and  cut  the  animal's  throat 
with  his  sword.      Before  speaking  a  word  to  Quentin,  he 


Q  UENTIN  D  UR  WARD  107 

measured  the  huge  creature  not  only  by  paces,  but  even  by 
feet ;  then  wiped  the  sweat  from  his  brow  and  the  blood  from 
his  hands  ;  then  took  off  his  hunting-cap,  hung  it  on  a  bush, 
and  devoutly  made  his  orisons  to  the  little  leaden  images 
which  it  contained  ;  and  at  length,  looking  upon  Durward, 
said  to  him,  "  Is  it  thou,  my  young  Scot  ?  Thou  hast  begun 
thy  woodcraft  well,  and  Maitre  Pierre  owes  thee  as  good 
entertainment  as  he  gave  thee  at  the  Fleur-de  Lys,  yonder. 
Why  dost  thou  not  speak  ?  Thou  hast  lost  thy  forwardness 
and  fire,  methinks,  at  the  court  where  others  find  both." 

Quentin,  as  shrewd  a  youth  as  ever  Scottish  breeze  breathed 
caution  into,  had  imbibed  more  awe  than  confidence  towards 
his  dangerous  master,  and  was  far  too  wise  to  embrace  the 
perilous  permission  of  familiarity  which  he  seemed  thus  in- 
vited to  use.  He  answered  in  very  few  and  well-chosen 
words,  that  if  he  ventured  to  address  his.  Majesty  at  all,  it 
could  be  but  to  crave  pardon  for  the  rustic  boldness  with 
which  he  had  conducted  himself  when  ignorant  of  his  high 
rank. 

*^Tush  !  man,"  said  the  King  ;  ''1  forgive  thy  sauciness 
for  thy  spirit  and  shrewdness.  I  admired  how  near  thou 
didst  hit  upon  my  gossip  Tristan^s  occupation.  You  have 
nearly  tasted  of  his  handiwork  since,  as  I  am  given  to  under- 
stand. I  bid  thee  beware  of  him  ;  he  is  a  merchant  who 
deals  in  rough  bracelets  and  tight  necklaces.  Help  me  to 
my  horse.  I  like  thee,  and  will  do  thee  good.  Build  on  no 
man's  favor  but  mine — not  even  on  thine  uncle's  or  Lord 
Crawford's  ;  and  say  nothing  of  thy  timely  aid  in  this  matter 
of  the  boar,  for  if  a  man  makes  boast  that  he  has  served  a 
king  in  such  a  pinch,  be  must  take  the  braggart  humor  for 
its  own  recompense." 

The  king  then  winded  his  horn,  which  brought  up  Dunois 
and  several  attendants,  whose  compliments  he  received  on 
the  slaughter  of  such  a  noble  animal,  without  scrupling 
to  appropriate  a  much  greater  share  of  merit  than  actually 
belonged  to  him ;  for  he  mentioned  Durward's  assistance  as 
slightly  as  a  sportsman  of  rank,  who,  in  boasting  of  the 
number  of  birds  which  he  has  bagged,  does  not  always  dilate 
upon  the  presence  and  assistance  of  the  gamekeeper.  He 
then  ordered  Dunois  to  see  that  the  boar's  carcass  was  sent 
to  the  brotherhood  of  St.  Martin,  at  Tours,  to  mend  their 
fare  on  holy  days,  and  that  they  might  remember  the  King 
in  their  private  devotions. 

"And,"  said  Louis,  "who  hath  seen  his  Eminence,  my 
lord  cardinal  ?    Methinks  it  were  but  poor  courteay,  and 


108  WA  VERLEY  NO VEL8 

cold  regard  to  holy  church,  to  leave  him  afoot  here  in  the 
forest/' 

"  May  it  please  you,  sire/'  said  Quentin,  when  he  saw  that 
all  were  silent,  ''  I  saw  his  lordship  the  cardinal  accommo- 
dated with  a  horse,  on  which  he  left  the  forest/' 

"  Heaven  cares  for  its  own,"  replied  the  King.  '*  Set 
forward  to  the  castle,  my  lords  ;  we'll  hunt  no  more  this 
morning.  You,  sir  squire/'  addressing  Qnentin,  ''reach 
me  my  wood-knife ;  it  has  dropped  from  the  sheath  besides 
the  quarry  there.     Ride  on,  Dunois  ;  I  follow  instantly/' 

Louis,  whose  lightest  motions  were  often  conducted  like 
stratagems,  thus  gained  an  opportunity  to  ask  Quentin  pri- 
vately, "  My  bonny  Scot,  thou  hast  an  eye,  I  see.  Canst 
thou  tell  me  who  helped  the  cardinal  to  a  palfrey  ?  Some 
stranger,  I  should  suppose  ;  for,  as  /  passed  without  stop- 
ping, the  courtiers  would  likely  be  in  no  hurry  to  do  him 
such  a  timely  good  turn." 

'"'I  saw  those  who  aided  his  Eminence  but  an  instant, 
sire,"  said  Quentin  ;  ''  it  was  only  a  hasty  glance,  for  I  had 
been  unluckily  thrown  out,  and  was  riding  fast,  to  be  in  my 
place  ;  but  I  think  it  was  the  ambassador  of  Burgundy  and 
his  people.'^ 

"  Ha  ! "  said  Louis.  "  Well,  be  it  so  ;  France  will  match 
them  yet." 

There  was  nothing  more  remarkable  happened,  and  the 
King,  with  his  retinue,  returned  to  the  castlSo 


CHAPTER  X 

THE   SENTIN^EL 

Where  should  this  music  be  ?  i'  the  air  or  the  earth  ? 

•The  Tempest. 
I  was  all  ear, 
And  took  in  strains  that  might  create  a  soul 
Under  the  ribs  of  death. 

Comus, 

QuEiq'TiN"  liad  hardly  reached  his  little  cabin,  in  order  to 
make  some  necessary  changes  in  his  dress,  when  his  worthy 
relative  required  to  know  the  full  particulars  of  all  that  had 
befallen  him  at  the  hunt. 

The  youth,  who  could  not  help  thinking  that  his  uncle's 
hand  was  probably  more  powerful  than  his  understanding, 
took  care,  in  his  reply,  to  leave  the  King  in  full  possession  of 
the  victory  which  he  had  seemed  desirous  to  appropriate.  Le 
Balafre's  reply  was  a  boast  of  how  much  better  he  himself 
would  have  behaved  in  the  like  circumstances,  and  it  was 
mixed  with  a  gentle  censure  of  his  nephew's  slackness,  in 
not  making  in  to  the  King's  assistance,  when  he  might  be 
in  imminent  peril.  The  youth  had  prudence,  in  answer,  to 
abstain  from  all  farther  vindication  of  his  own  conduct,  ex- 
cept that,  according  to  the  rules  of  woodcraft,  he  held  it 
ungentle  to  interfere  with  the  game  attacked  by  anothei- 
hunter,  unless  he  was  specially  called  upon  for  his  assistance. 
This  discussion  was  scarcely  ended,  when  occasion  was  af- 
forded Quentin  to  congratulate  himself  for  observing  some 
reserve  towards  his  kinsman.  A  low  tap  at  the  door  an- 
nounced a  visitor  ;  it  was  presently  opened,  and  Oliver  Dain, 
or  Mauvais,  or  Diable,  for  by  all  these  names  he  was  known, 
entered  the  apartment. 

This  able  but  most  unprincipled  man  has  been  already  de- 
scribed, in  so  far  as  his  exterior  is  concerned.  The  aptest 
resemblance  of  his  motions  and  manners  might  perhaps  be 
to  those  of  the  domestic  cat,  which,  while  couching  in  seem- 
ing slumber,  or  gliding  through  the  apartment  with  slow, 
stealthy,  and  timid  steps,  is  now  engaged  in  watching  the 
hole  of  some  unfortunate  mouse,  now  in  rubbing  herself  with 

100 


110  WA  VERLEY  NO  VEL8 

apparent  confidence  and  fondness  against  those  by  whom  she 
desires  to  be  caressed,  and,  presently  after,  is  flying  upon  her 
prey,  or  scratching  perhaps,  the  very  object  of  her  former 
cajolements. 

He  entered  with  stooping  shoulders,  a  humble  and  modest 
look,  and  threw  such  a  degree  of  civility  into  his  address  to 
the  Seignior  Balafre  that  no  one,  who  saw  the  interview, 
could  have  avoided  concluding  that  he  came  to  ask  a  boon 
of  the  Scottish  Archer.  He  congratulated  Lesly  on  the  ex- 
cellent conduct  of  his  young  kinsman  in  the  chase  that  day, 
which  he  observed,  had  attracted  the  King's  particular 
attention.  He  here  paused  for  a  reply  ;  and  with  his  eyes 
fixed  on  the  ground,  save  just  when  once  or  twice  they  stole 
upwards  to  take  a  side  glance  at  Quentin,  he  heard  Balafr6 
observe,  ''  That  his  Majesty  had  been  unlucky  in  not  having 
himself  by  his  side  instead  of  his  nephew,  as  he  would  ques- 
tionless have  made  in  and  speared  the  brute,  a  matter  which 
he  understood  Quentin  had  left  upon  his  Majesty's  royal 
hands,  so  far  as  he  could  learn  the  story.  But  it  will  be  a 
lesson  to  his  Majesty,"  he  said,  *' while  he  lives,  to  mount 
a  man  of  my  inches  on  a  better  horse  ;  for  how  could  my 
great  hill  of  a  Flemish  dray-horse  keep  up  with  his  Majesty's 
Norman  runner  ?  I  am  sure  I  spurred  till  his  sides  were 
furrowed.  It  is  ill  considered.  Master  Oliver,  and  you  must 
represent  it  to  his  Majesty." 

Master  Oliver  only  replied  to  this  observation  by  turning 
towards  the  bold  bluff  speaker  one  of  those  slow,  dubious 
glances  which,  accompanied  by  a  slight  motion  of  the  hand 
and  a  gentle  depression  of  the  head  to  one  side,  maybe 
either  interpreted  as  a  mute  assent  to  what  is  said  or  as  a 
cautious  deprecation  of  farther  prosecution  of  the  subject. 
It  was  a  keener,  more  scrutinizing  glance  which  he  bent  on 
the  youth,  as  he  said,  with  an  ambiguous  smile,  "  So,  young 
man,  is  it  the  wont  of  Scotland  to  suffer  your  princes  to  be 
endangered  for  the  lack  of  aid,  in  such  emergencies  as  this 
of  to-day?" 

'^  It  is  our  custom,"  answered  Quentin,  determined  to 
throw  no  farther  light  on  the  subject,  ''  not  to  encumber 
them  with  assistance  in  honorable  pastimes,  when  they 
can  aid  themselves  without  it.  We  hold  that  a  prince  in  a 
hunting-field  must  take  his  chance  with  others,  and  that  he 
comes  there  for  the  very  purpose.  What  were  woodcraft 
without  fatigue  and  without  danger  ?" 

"  You  hear  the  silly  boy,"  said  his  uncle ;  **  that  is  always 
the  way  with  him  :  he  hath  an  answer  or  a  reason  ready  to 


QUENTIN  BUR  WARD  111 

be  rendered  to  every  one.  I  wonder  whence  he  hath  caught 
the  gift ;  I  never  could  give  a  reason  for  anything  I  have 
ever  done  in  my  life,  except  for  eating  when  I  was  a-hungry, 
calling  the  muster-roll,  and  such  points  of  duty  as  the  like." 

"And  pray,  worthy  seignior,''  said  the  royal  tonsor,  look- 
ing at  him  from  under  his  eyelids,  "  what  might  your  reason 
be  for  calling  the  muster-roll,  on  such  occasions  ?" 

''  Because  the  captain  commanded  me,''  said  Le  Balafre. 
"By  St.  Giles,  I  know  no  other  reason  !  If  he  had  com- 
manded Tyrie  or  Cunningham,  they  must  have  done  the 
same." 

"A  most  military  final  cause  !"  said  Oliver.  "But  Sei- 
gnior Le  Balafre,  you  will  be  glad,  doubtless,  to  learn  that  his 
Majesty  's  so  far  from  being  displeased  with  your  nephew's 
conduct,  "-.hat  he  hath  selected  him  to  execute  a  piece  of  duty 
this  afterroon." 

*  *  Select -jd  Mm  9  "  said  Balafre  in  great  surprise.  "  Selected 
me,  I  suppose  you  mean  ?" 

"  I  mean  precisely  as  I  speak,"  replied  the  barber  in  a  mild 
but  decided  tone  :  "  the  King  hath  a  commission  with  which 
to  entrust  }our  nephew." 

"Why,  wherefore,  and  for  what  reason  ?"  said  Balafre. 
"Why  doth  he  choose  the  boy,  and  not  me  ?" 

"I  can  go  no  farther  back  than  your  own  ultimate  cause. 
Seignior  Le  Balafre  :  such  are  his  Majesty's  commands. 
But,"  said  je,  "if  I  might  use  the  presumption  to  form  a 
conjecture,  :  t  may  be  his  Majesty  hath  work  to  do  fitter  for 
a  youth  like  your  nephew  than  for  an  experienced  warrior 
like  yourself,  Seignior  Balafre.  Wherefore,  young  gentle- 
man, get  yc  ur  weapons  and  follow  me.  Bring  with  you  a 
harquebuss,  for  you  are  to  mount  sentinel." 

"  Sentine'  ! "  said  the  uncle  ;  "  are  you  sure  you  are  right. 
Master  Oliver  ?  The  inner  guards  of  the  castle  have  ever 
been  mounted  by  those  only  who  have,  like  me,  served  twelve 
years  in  our  honorable  body." 

"  I  am  quite  certain  of  his  Majesty's  pleasure/' said  Oliver, 
"and  must  no  longer  delay  executing  it." 

"  But,"  said  Le  Balafre,  "  my  nephew  is  not  even  a  free 
archer,  being  only  an  esquire,  serving  under  my  lance." 

"  Pardon  me,"  answered  Oliver,  "  the  King  sent  for  the 
register  not  half  an  hour  since,  and  enrolled  him  among  the 
Guard.  Have  the  goodness  to  assist  to  put  your  nephew  in 
order  for  the  service." 

Balafre,  who  had  no  ill-nature,  or  even  much  jealousy,  in 
his  disposition.  V^astily    set  about  adjusting   his  nephew's 


112  WAV ERLET  NOVELS 

dress,  and  giving  him  directions  for  his  conduct  under  arms, 
but  was  unable  to  refrain  from  larding  them  with  interjec- 
tions of  surprise  at  such  luck  chancing  to  fall  upon  the 
young  man  so  early. 

'*  It  had  never  taken  place  before  in  the  Scottish  Guard/' 
he  said,  *'  not  even  in  his  own  instance.  But  doubtless  his 
service  must  be  to  mount  guard  over  the  popinjays  and 
Indian  peacocks  which  the  Venetian  ambassador  had  lately 
presented  to  the  King — it  could  be  nothing  else  ;  and  such 
duty  being  only  fit  for  a  beardless  boy  (here  he  twirled  his 
own  grim  mustachios),  he  was  glad  the  lot  had  fallen  on  his 
fair  nephew.^' 

Quick  and  sharp  of  wit,  as  well  as  ardent  in  fancy,  Quen- 
tin  saw  visions  of  higher  importance  in  this  early  summons 
to  the  royal  presence,  and  his  heart  beat  high  at  the  antici- 
pation of  rising  into  speedy  distinction.  He  determined 
carefully  to  watch  the  manners  and  language  of  his  con- 
ductor, which  he  suspected  must,  in  some  cases  at  least,  be 
interpreted  by  contraries,  as  soothsayers  are  said  to  discover 
the  interpretation  of  dreams.  He  could  not  but  hug  himself 
on  having  observed  strict  secrecy  on  the  events  of  the  chase, 
and  then  formed  a  resolution  which,  for  so  young  a  person, 
had  much  prudence  in  it,  that,  while  he  breathed  the  air  of 
this  secluded  and  mysterious  court,  he  would  keep  his 
thoughts  locked  in  his  bosom,  and  his  tongue  under  the 
most  careful  regulation. 

His  equipment  was  soon  complete,  and  with  his  harque- 
buss  on  his  shoulder  (for  though  they  retained  the  name  of 
archers,  the  Scottish  Guard  very  early  substituted  firearms 
for  the  long  bow,  in  the  use  of  which  their  nation  never  ex- 
celled), he  followed  Master  Oliver  out  of  the  barrack. 

His  uncle  looked  long  after  him  with  a  countenance  in 
which  wonder  was  blended  with  curiosity  ♦  and  though 
neither  envy  nor  the  malignant  feelings  which  it  engenders 
entered  into  his  honest  meditation,  there  was  yet  a  sense  of 
wounded  or  diminished  self-importance  which  mingled  with 
the  pleasure  excited  by  his  nephew's  favorable  commence- 
ment of  service. 

He  shook  his  head  gravely,  opened  a  privy  cupboard,  took 
out  a  large  hottrine  of  stout  old  wine,  shook  it  to  examine 
how  low  the  contents  had  ebbed,  filled  and  drank  a  hearty 
cup  ;  then  took  his  seat,  half-reclining,  on  the  great  oaken 
Bettle,  and  having  once  again  slowly  shaken  his  head,  re- 
ceived so  much  apparent  benefit  from  the  oscillation,  that, 
like  the  toy  called  a  mandarin,  he  continued  the  motion 


Q  UENTIN  D  UR  WARD  113 

until  he  dropped  into  a  slumber,  from  which  he  was  first 
roused  by  the  signal  to  dinner. 

When  Quentin  Durward  left  his  uncle  to  these  sublime 
meditations,  he  followed  his  conductor.  Master  Oliver,  who, 
without  crossing  any  of  the  principal  courts,  led  him  partly 
through  private  passages  exposed  to  the  open  air,  but  chiefly 
through  a  maze  of  stairs,  vaults,  and  galleries,  communicat- 
ing with  each  other  by  secret  doors  and  at  unexpected  points, 
into  a  large  and  spacious  latticed  gallery,  which,  from  its 
breadth,  might  have  been  almost  termed  a  hall,  hung  with 
tapestry  more  ancient  than  beautiful,  and  with  a  very  few  of 
the  hard,  cold,  ghastly-looking  pictures  belonging  to  the 
first  dawn  of  the  arts,  which  preceded  their  splendid  sunrise. 
These  were  designed  to  represent  the  paladins  of  Charle- 
magne, who  made  such  a  distinguished  figure  in  the  romantic 
history  of  France  ;  and  as  the  gigantic  form  of  the  cele- 
brated Orlando  constituted  the  most  prominent  figure,  the 
apartment  acquired  from  him  the  title  of  Koland's  Hall,  or 
Roland^s  Gallery.* 

"  You  will  keep  watch  here,'*  said  Oliver,  in  a  low  whisper, 
as  if  the  hard  delineations  of  monarchs  and  warriors  around 
could  have  been  offended  at  the  elevation  of  his  voice,  or  as 
if  he  had  feared  to  awaken  the  echoes  that  lurked  among  the 
groined  vaults  and  Gothic  drop-work  on  the  ceiling  of  this 
huge  and  dreary  apartment. 

"  What  are  the  orders  and  signs  of  my  watch  ?  "  answered 
Quentin,  in  the  same  suppressed  tone. 

''Is  your  harquebuss  loaded?"  replied  Oliver,  without 
answering  his  query. 

''That,"  answered  Quentin,  "is  soon  done";  and  pro- 
ceeded to  charge  his  weapon,  and  to  light  the  slow-match, 
by  which  when  necessary  it  was  discharged,  at  the  embers  of 
a  wood  fire,  which  was  expiring  in  the  huge  hall  chimney — 
a  chimney  itself  so  large  that  it  might  have  been  called  a 
Gothic  closet  or  chapel  appertaining  to  the  hall. 

When  this  was  performed,  Oliver  told  him  that  he  was 
ignorant  of  one  of  the  high  privileges  of  his  own  corps, 
which  only  received  orders  from  the  King  in  person,  or  the 
High  Constable  of  France,  in  lieu  of  their  own  officers. 
"  You  are  placed  here  by  his  Majesty's  command,  young 
man,"  added  Oliver,  "  and  you  will  not  be  long  here  with- 
out knowing  wherefore  you  are  summoned.  Meantime, 
your  walk  extends  along  this  gallery.  You  are  permitted  to 
stand  still  while  you  list,  but  on  no  account  to  sit  down  oi 

*See  Louis  XI.  and  Charlemagne.    Note  21, 
17 


114  WA  VEBLET  NO  VEL8 

quit  your  weapon.  You  are  not  to  sing  aloud  or  whistle 
upon  any  account ;  but  you  may,  if  you  list,  mutter  some  of 
the  church's  prayers,  or  what  else  you  list  that  has  no 
offense  in  it,  in  a  low  voice.  Farewell,  and  keep  good 
watch." 

'*  Good  watch!"  thought  the  youthful  soldier,  as  his 
guide  stole  away  from  him  with  that  noiseless,  gliding  step 
which  was  peculiar  to  him,  and  vanished  through  a  side  door 
behind  the  arras — *'good  watch!  but  upon  whom,  and 
against  whom  ?  for  what,  save  bats  or  rats,  are  there  here 
to  contend  with,  unless  these  grim  old  representatives  of 
humanity  should  start  into  life  for  the  disturbance  of  my 
guard  ?  Well,  it  is  my  duty,  I  suppose,  and  I  must  perform 
it.'' 

With  the  vigorous  purpose  of  discharging  his  duty,  even 
to  the  very  rigor,  he  tried  to  while  away  the  time  with  some 
of  the  pious  hymns  which  he  had  learned  in  the  convent  in 
which  he  had  found  shelter  after  the  death  of  his  father — 
allowing  in  his  own  mind  that,  but  for  the  change  of  a  no- 
vice's frock  for  the  rich  military  dress  which  he  now  wore, 
his  soldierly  walk  in  the  royal  gallery  of  France  resembled 
greatly  those  of  which  he  had  tired  excessively  in  the  clois- 
tered seclusion  of  Aberbrothock. 

Presently,  as  if  to  convince  himself  he  now  belonged  not  to 
the  cell  but  to  the  world,  he  chanted  to  himself,  but  in  such 
tone  as  not  to  exceed  the  license  given  to  him,  some  of  the 
ancient  rude  ballads  which  the  old  family  harper  had  taught 
him,  of  the  defeat  of  the  Danes  at  Aberlemno  and  Forres, 
the  murder  of  King  Duff  us  at  Forfar,  and  other  pithy  son- 
nets, and  lays,  which  appertained  to  the  history  of  his  dis- 
tant native  country,  and  particularly  of  the  district  to  which 
he  belonged.  This  wore  away  a  considerable  space  of  time, 
and  it  was  now  more  than  two  hours. past  noon,  when  Quen- 
tin  was  reminded  by  his  appetite  that  the  good  fathers  of 
Aberbrothock,  however  strict  in  demanding  his  attendance 
upon  the  hours  of  devotion,  were  no  less  punctual  in  sum- 
moning him  to  those  of  refection  ;  whereas  here,  in  the 
interior  of  a  royal  palace,  after  a  morning  spent  in  exercise 
and  a  noon  exhausted  in  duty,  no  man  seemed  to  consider 
it  as  a  natural  consequence  that  he  must  be  impatient  for  his 
dinner. 

There  are,  however,  charms  in  sweet  sounds  which  can 
lull  to  rest  even  the  natural  feelings  of  impatience  by  which 
Quentin  was  now  visited.  At  the  opposite  extremities  of  the 
long  hall  or  gallery  were  two  large  doors,  ornamented  with 


QUFNTIN  D UR  WABD  116 

heavy  architraves,  probably  opening  into  different  suites  of 
apartments,  to  which  the  gallery  served  as  a  medium  of 
mutual  communication.  As  the  sentinel  directed  his  solitary 
walk  betwixt  these  two  entrances,  which  formed  the  boundary 
of  his  duty,  he  was  startled  by  a  strain  of  music,  which  was 
suddenly  waked  near  one  of  those  doors,  and  which,  at  least 
in  his  imagination,  was  a  combination  of  the  same  lute  and 
voice  by  which  he  had  been  enchanted  on  the  preceding  day. 
All  the  dreams  of  yesterday  morning,  so  much  weakened  by 
the  agitating  circumstances  which  he  had  since  undergone, 
again  rose  more  vivid  from  their  slumber,  and,  planted  on 
the  spot  where  his  ear  could  most  conveniently  drink  in  the 
sounds,  Quentin  remained,  with  his  harquebuss  shouldered, 
his  mouth  half  open,  ear,  eye,  and  soul  directed  to  the  spot, 
rather  the  picture  of  a  sentinel  than  a  living  form — without 
any  other  idea  than  that  of  catching,  if  possible,  each  pass- 
ing sound  of  the  dulcet  melody. 

These  delightful  sounds  were  but  partially  heard :  they 
languished,  lingered,  ceased  entirely,  and  were  from  time  to 
time  renewed  after  uncertain  intervals.  But,  besides  that 
music,  like  beauty,  is  often  most  delightful,  or  at  least  most 
interesting  to  the  imagination,  when  its  charms  are  but  par- 
tially displayed,  and  the  imagination  is  left  to  fill  up  what 
is  from  distance  but  imperfectly  detailed,  Quentin  had  mat- 
ter enough  to  fill  up  his  reverie  during  the  intervals  of 
fascination.  He  could  not  doubt,  from  the  report  of  his  un- 
cle's comrades  and  the  scene  which  had  passed  in  the  presence- 
chamber  that  morning,  that  the  siren  who  thus  delighted  his 
ears  was  not,  as  he  had  profanely  supposed,  the  daughter 
or  kinswoman  of  a  base  caharetier,  but  the  same  disguised 
and  distressed  countess  for  whose  cause  kings  and  princes 
were  now  about  to  buckle  on  armor  and  put  lance  in  rest.  A 
hundred  wild  dreams,  such  as  romantic  and  adventurous  youth 
readily  nourished  in  a  romantic  and  adventurous  age,  chased 
from  his  eyes  the  bodily  presentment  of  the  actual  scene,  and 
substituted  their  own  bewildering  delusions,  when  at  once, 
and  rudely,  they  were  banished  by  a  rough  grasp  laid  upon  his 
weapon,  and  a  harsh  voice  which  exclaimed,  close  to  his 
ear,  ^'  Ha  !  Pasques-dieu,  sir  squire,  methinks  you  keep 
sleepy  ward  here  1 " 

The  voice  was  tuneless,  yet  impressive  and  ironical,  tone 
of  Maltre  Pierre,  and  Quentin,  suddenly  recalled  to  himself, 
saw,  with  shame  and  fear,  that  he  had,  in  his  reverie,  per- 
mitted Louis  himself — entering  probably  by  some  secret 
door,  and  gliding  along  by  the  wall  or  behind  the  tapes- 


U6  WAV ERLET  NOVELS 

try — to  approach  him  so  nearly  as  almost  to  master  his 
weapon. 

The  first  impulse  of  his  surprise  was  to  free  his  harquebuss 
by  a  violent  exertion,  which  made  the  King  stagger  back- 
ward into  the  hall.  His  next  apprehension  was,  that  in  obey- 
ing the  animal  instinct,  as  it  may  be  termed,  which  prompts 
a  brave  man  to  resist  an  attempt  to  disarm  him,  he  had 
aggravated,  by  a  personal  struggle  with  the  King,  the  dis- 
pleasure produced  by  the  negligence  with  which  he  had 
performed  his  duty  upon  guard  ;  and,  under  this  impression, 
he  recovered  his  harquebuss  without  almost  knowing  what 
he  did,  and,  having  again  shouldered  it,  stood  motionless 
before  the  monarch,  whom  he  had  reason  to  conclude  he  had 
mortally  offended. 

Louis,  whose  tyrannical  disposition  was  less  founded  on 
natural  ferocity  or  cruelty  of  temper  than  on  cold-blooded 
policy  and  jealous  suspicion,  had,  neverthless,  a  share  of  that 
caustic  severity  which  would  have  made  him  a  despot  in 
private  conversation,  and  always  seemed  to  enjoy  the  pain 
which  he  inflicted  on  occasions  like  the  present.  But  he  did 
not  push  his  triumph  far,  and  contented  himself  with  saying 
— *'  Thy  service  of  the  morning  hath  already  overpaid  some 
negligence  in  so  young  a  soldier.     Hast  thou  dined  ?  '* 

Quentin,  who  rather  looked  to  be  sent  to  the  provost-mar- 
shal than  greeted  with  such  a  compliment,  answered  humbly 
in  the  negative. 

*^  Poor  lad,''  said  Louis,  in  a  softer  tone  than  he  usually 
spoke  in,  ''hunger  hath  made  him  drowsy.  I  know  thine 
appetite  is  a  wolf,''  he  continued,  ''  and  I  will  save  thee  from 
one  wild  beast  as  thou  didst  me  from  another.  Thou  hast 
been  prudent,  too,  in  that  matter,  and  I  thank  thee  for  it. 
Canst  thou  yet  hold  out  an  hour  without  food  ?" 

"  Four-and-twenty,  sire,"  replied  Durward,  *'  or  I  were  no 
true  Scot." 

''  I  would  not  for  another  kingdom  be  the  pasty  which 
should  encounter  thee  after  such  a  vigil,"  said  the  King ; 
''  but  the  question  now  is,  not  of  thy  dinner,  but  of  my  own. 
I  admit  to  my  table  this  day,  and  in  strict  privacy,  the  Car- 
dinal Balue  and  this  Burgundian — this  Count  de  Cr^vecoeur, 
and  something  may  chance  :  the  devil  is  most  busy  when  foes 
meet  on  terms  of  truce." 

He  stopped,  and  remained  silent,  with  a  deep  and  gloomy 
look.  As  the  King  was  in  no  haste  to  proceed,  Quentin  at 
length  ventured  to  ask  what  his  duty  was  to  be  in  these  cir 
cumstances. 


i 


qtjEJsrrtN  1)ubWab1>  m 

*'  To  keep  watch  at  the  beauffet,  with  thy  loaded  weapon/* 
taid  Louis ;  *'  and  if  there  is  treason,  to  shoot  the  traitor 
dead." 

"  Treason,  sire  I  and  in  this  guarded  castle  ! "  exclaimed 
Durward. 

'^  You  think  ifc  impossible,"  said  the  King,  not  offended, 
it  would  seem,  by  his  frankness  ;  "  but  oar  history  has  shown 
that  treason  can  creep  into  an  auger-hole.  Treason  excluded 
by  guards  !  0  thou  silly  boy  !  Quis  custodiat  ipsos  custodes 
• — who  shall  exclude  the  treason  of  those  very  warders  ?  " 

*'  Their  Scottish  honor,"  answered  Durward  boldly. 

"  True — most  true,"  thou  pleasest  me,"  said  the  King 
cheerfully  ;  ^'the  Scottish  honor  was  ever  true,  and  I  trust 
it  accordingly.  But  treason  ! "  here  he  relapsed  into  his 
former  gloomy  mood,  and  traversed  the  apartment  with  un- 
equal steps — "  she  sits  at  our  feasts,  she  sparkles  in  our 
bowls,  she  wears  the  beard  of  our  councilors,  the  smiles  of 
our  courtiers,  the  crazy  laugh  of  our  jesters — above  all  she 
lies  hid  under  the  friendly  air  of  a  reconciled  enemy.  Louis 
of  Orleans  trusted  John  of  Burgundy  :  he  was  murdered  in 
the  Rue  Barbette.  John  of  Burgundy  trusted  the  faction  of 
Orleans  :  he  was  murdered  on  the  bridge  of  Montereau.  I 
will  trust  no  one — no  one.  Hark  ye  ;  I  will  keep  my  eye  on 
that  insolent  count ;  ay,  and  on  the  churchman  too,  whom  I 
hold  not  too  faithful.  When  I  say,  '^  Ecosse,  en  avant" 
shoot  Crdvecoeur  dead  -^n  the  spot." 

^'  It  is  my  duty,"sajd  Q.uentin,  "your  Majesty^s life  being 
endangered." 

"Certainly — I  mean  it  no  otherwise,"  said  the  King. 
"  What  should  I  get  by  slaying  this  insolent  soldier  ?   Were 

it  to  the  Constable  St.  Paul  indeed "     Here  he  paused, 

as  if  he  thought  he  had  said  a  word  too  much,  but  resumed, 
laughing — "There's  our  brother-in-law,  James  of  Scotland 
— your  own  James  Quentin — poniarded  the  Douglas*  when 
on  a  hospitable  visit,  within  his  own  royal  castle  of  Skir- 
ling." 

"  Of  Stirling,"  said  Quentin,  "  and  so  please  your  High- 
ness.    It  was  a  deed  of  which  came  little  good." 

"Stirling  call  you  the  castle  ?"  said  the  King,  overlook- 
ing the  latter  part  of  Quentin's  speech.  "Well,  let  it  be 
Stirling  ;  the  name  is  nothing  to  the  purpose.  But  I  medi- 
tate no  injury  to  these  men — none.  It  would  serve  me 
nothing.  They  may  not  purpose  equally  fair  for  me.  I 
rely  on  thy  harquebuss." 

*  See  Murder  of  Douglas.    Not©  iSd. 


118  WA  VEBLEY  NO VEL8 

I  shall  be  prompt  at  the  signal,"  said  Quentin ;  "  bui 


(( 


yet '' 

"  You  hesitate,"  said  the  King.  '^  Speak  out ;  I  give 
thee  full  leave.  From  such  as  thou  art,  hints  may  be  caught 
that  are  right  valuable." 

^'  I  would  only  presume  to  say,"  replied  Quentin,  "  that 
your  Majesty  having  occasion  to  distrust  this  Burgundian,  I 
marvel  that  you  suffer  him  to  approach  so  near  your  person, 
and  that  in  privacy." 

"  0  content  you,  sir  squire,"  said  the  King.  *'  There  are 
some  dangers  which,  when  they  are  braved,  disappear,  and 
which  yet,  when  there  is  an  obvious  and  apparent  dread  of 
them  displayed,  become  certain  and  inevitable.  When  I 
walk  boldly  up  to  a  surly  mastiff  and  caress  him,  it  is  ten  to 
one  I  soothe  him  to  good  temper ;  if  I  show  fear  of  him, 
he  flies  on  me  and  rends  me.  I  will  be  thus  far  frank  with 
thee.  It  concerns  me  nearly  that  this  man  returns  not  to 
his  headlong  master  in  a  resentful  humor.  I  run  my  risk, 
therefore.  I  have  never  shunned  to  expose  my  life  for  the 
weal  of  my  kingdom.     Follow  me." 

Louis  led  his  young  Life  Guardsman,  for  whom  he  seemed 
to  have  taken  a  special  favor,  through  the  side  door  by 
which  he  had  himself  entered,  saying,  as  he  showed  it  him, 
''  He  who  would  thrive  at  court  must  know  the  private 
wickets  and  concealed  staircases — ay,  and  the  traps  and 
pitfalls  of  the  palace,  as  well  as  the  principal  entrances, 
folding- doors,  and  portals." 

After  several  turns  and  passages,  the  King  entered  a  small 
vaulted  room,  where  a  table  was  prepared  for  dinner  with 
three  covers.  The  whole  furniture  and  arrangements  of  the 
room  were  plain  almost  to  meanness.  A  beauffet,  or  folding 
and  movable  cupboard,  held  a  few  pieces  of  gold  and  silver 
plate,  and  was  the  only  article  in  the  chamber  which  had, 
m  the  slightest  degree,  the  appearance  of  royalty.  Behind 
this  cupboard,  and  completely  hidden  by  it,  was  the  post 
which  Louis  assigned  to  Quentin  Durward  ;  and  after  having 
ascertained,  by  going  to  different  parts  of  the  room,  that  he 
was  invisible  from  all  quarters,  he  gave  him  his  last  charge — 
''  Remember  the  word,  ^^  Bcosse,  en  avant  "  ;  and  so  soon  as 
ever  I  utter  these  sounds,  throw  down  the  screen — spare  not 
for  cup  or  goblet,  and  be  sure  thou  take  good  aim  at  Cr^ve- 
coeur.  If  thy  piece  fail,  cling  to  him,  and  use  thy  knife. 
Oliver  and  I  can  deal  with  the  cardinal." 

Having  thus  spoken,  he  whistled  aloud,  and  summoned 
into  the  apartment  Oliver,  Avho  was  premier  valet  of  the 


QUENTIN  DUR  WARD  119 

Ghamber  as  well  as  barber,  and  who,  in  fact,  performed  all 
offices  immediately  connected  with  the  King's  person,  and  who 
now  appeared,  attended  by  two  old  men,  who  were  the  only 
assistants  or  waiters  at  the  royal  table.  So  soon  as  the  King 
had  taken  his  place,  the  visitors  were  admitted  ;  and  Quentin, 
though  himself  unseen,  was  so  situated  as  to  remark  all  the 
particulars  of  the  interview. 

The  King  welcomed  his  visitors  with  a  degree  of  cordiality 
which  Quentin  had  the  utmost  difficulty  to  reconcile  with 
the  directions  which  he  had  previously  received,  and  the  pur- 
pose for  which  he  stood  behind  the  beauffet  with  his  deadly 
weapon  in  readiness.  Not  only  did  Louis  appear  totally  free 
from  apprehension  of  any  kind,  but  one  would  have  sup- 
posed that  those  visitors  whom  he  had  done  the  high  honor 
to  admit  to  his  table  were  the  very  persons  in  whom  he 
could  most  unreservedly  confide,  and  whom  he  was  most 
willing  to  honor.  Nothing  could  be  more  dignified,  and  at 
the  same  time  more  courteous,  than  his  demeanor.  While 
all  around  him,  including  even  his  own  dress,  was  far  be- 
neath the  splendor  which  the  petty  princes  of  the  kingdom 
displayed  in  their  festivities,  his  own  language  and  manners 
were  those  of  a  mighty  sovereign  in  his  most  condescending 
mood.  Quentin  was  tempted  to  suppose  either  the  whole  of 
his  previous  conversation  with  Louis  had  been  a  dream,  or 
that  the  dutiful  demeanor  of  the  cardinal,  and  the  frank, 
open,  and  gallant  bearing  of  the  Burgundian  noble,  had  en- 
tirely erased  the  King's  suspicion. 

But  whilst  the  guests,  in  obedience  to  the  King,  were  in 
the  act  of  placing  themselves  at  the  table,  his  Majesty  darted 
one  keen  glance  on  them,  and  then  instantly  directed  his 
look  to  Quentin's  post.  This  was  done  in  an  instant ;  but 
the  glance  conveyed  so  much  doubt  and  hatred  toward  his 
guests,  such  a  peremptory  injunction  on  Quentin  to  be  watch- 
ful in  attendance  and  prompt  in  execution,  that  no  room 
was  left  for  doubting  that  the  sentiments  of  Louis  continued 
unaltered,  and  his  apprehensions  unabated.  He  was,  there- 
fore more  than  ever  astonished  at  the  deep  veil  under  which 
that  monarch  was  able  to  conceal  the  movements  of  his 
jealous  disposition. 

Appearing  to  have  entirely  forgotten  the  language  which 
Cr^vecoeur  had  held  towards  him  in  the  face  of  his  court, 
the  King  conversed  with  him  of  old  times,  of  events  which 
had  occurred  during  his  own  exile  in  the  territories  of  Bur- 
gundy, and  inquired  respecting  all  the  nobles  with  whom  he 
had  been  then  familiar,  as  if  that  period  had  indeed  been 


1^  WAVERLET  IfOVSLS 

the  happiest  of  his  life,  and  as  if  he  retained  towards  all  who 
had  contributed  to  soften  the  term  of  his  exile  the  kindest 
and  most  grateful  sentiments. 

'*  To  an  ambassador  of  another  nation/'  he  said,  "  I  would 
have  thrown  something  of  state  into  our  reception  ;  but  to 
an  old  friend,  who  often  shared  my  board  at  the  Castle  of 
Genappes,*  I  wished  to  show  myself,  as  I  love  best  to  live, 
old  Louis  of  Valois,  as  simple  and  plain  as  any  of  his  Parisian 
hadauds.  But  I  directed  them  to  make  some  better  cheer 
than  ordinary  for  you,  sir  count,  for  I  know  your  Bur- 
gundian  proverb,  *'  Mieux  vault  hon  repas  que  hel  habit"  \ 
and  therefore  I  bid  them  have  some  care  of  our  table.  For 
our  wine,  you  know  well  it  is  the  subject  of  an  old  emulation 
betwixt  France  and  Burgundy,  which  we  will  presently 
reconcile ;  for  I  will  drink  to  you  in  Burgundy,  and  you, 
sir  count,  shall  pledge  me  in  champagne.  Here,  Oliver,  let 
me  have  a  cup  of  vin  d'Auxerre  ',"  and  he  hummed  gaily  a 
song  then  well  known — 

"  Auxerre  est  la  boisson  des  rois. 

Here,  sir  count,  I  drink  to  the  health  of  the  noble  Duke  of 
Burgundy,  our  kind  and  loving  cousin.  Oliver,  replenish 
yon  golden  cup  with  mn  de  Rhetms,  and  give  it  to  the  count 
on  your  knee  ;  he  represents  our  loving  brother.  My  lord 
cardinal,  we  will  ourself  fill  your  cup.'' 

'^  You  have  already,  sire,  even  to  overflowing,"  said  the 
cardinal,  with  the  lowly  mien  of  a  favorite  towards  an 
indulgent  master. 

"  Because  we  know  that  your  Eminence  can  carry  it  with 
a  steady  hand,"  said  Louis.  *'  But  which  side  do  you  espouse 
in  the  great  controversy — Sillery  or  Auxerre — France  or 
Burgundy  ?  " 

*'  I  will  stand  neutral,  sire,"  said  the  cardinal,  "  and 
replenish  my  cup  with  Auvernat." 

"  A  neutral  has  a  perilous  part  to  sustain,"  said  the  King  ; 
but  as  he  observed  the  cardinal  color  somewhat,  he  glided 
from  the  subject,  and  added,  ''  But  you  prefer  the  Auvernat, 
because  it  is  so  noble  a  wine  it  endures  not  water.  You,  sir 
count,  hesitate  to  empty  your  cup.  I  trust  you  have  found 
no  national  bitterness  at  the  bottom." 

'*  I  would,  sir,"  said  the  Count  de  Cr^vecoeur,  '*  that  all 

♦  During  his  residence  in  Burgundy,  in  his  father's  lifetime, 
Genappes  was  the  usual  abode  of  Louis.  This  period  of  exile  is 
often  alluded  to  in  the  novel. 


Q  UEN TIN  D  UR  WARD  121 

national  quarrels  could  be  as  pleasantly  ended  as  the  rivalry 
betwixt  our  vineyr.rds/' 

"With  time,  sir  count/'  answered  the  King — '^  with  time 
— such  time  as  you  have  taken  to  your  draught  of  champagne. 
And  now  that  it  is  finished,  favor  me  by  putting  the  goblet 
in  your  bosom,  and  keeping  it  as  a  pledge  of  our  regard.  It 
is  not  to  every  one  that  we  would  part  with  it.  It  belonged 
of  yore  to  that  terror  of  France,  Henry  V.  of  England,  and 
was  taken  when  Kouen  was  reduced,  and  those  islanders 
expelled  from  Normandy  by  the  joint  arms  of  France  and 
Burgundy.  It  cannot  be  better  bestowed  than  on  a  noble 
and  valiant  Burgundian,  who  well  knows  that  on  the  union 
of  these  two  nations  depends  the  continuance  of  the  freedom 
of  the  Continent  from  the  English  yoke.'' 

The  count  made  a  suitable  answer,  and  Louis  gave  unre- 
strained way  to  the  satirical  gaiety  of  disposition  which 
sometimes  enlivened  the  darker  shades  of  his  character. 
Leading,  of  course,  the  conversation,  his  remarks,  always 
shrewd  and  caustic,  and  often  actually  witty,  were  seldom 
good-natured,  and  the  anecdotes  with  which  he  illustrated 
them  were  often  more  humorous  than  delicate  ;  but  in  no 
one  word,  syllable,  or  letter  did  he  betray  the  state  of  mind 
of  one  who,  apprehensive  of  assassination,  hath  in  his  apart- 
ment an  armed  soldier,  with  his  piece  loaded,  in  order  to 
prevent  or  anticipate  an  attack  on  his  person. 

The  Count  of  Cr^vecceur  gave  frankly  into  the  King's 
humor  ;  while  the  smooth  churchman  laughed  at  every  jest, 
and  enhanced  every  ludicrous  idea,  without  exhibiting  any 
shame  at  expressions  which  made  the  rustic  young  Scot  blush 
even  in  his  place  of  concealment.*  In  about  an  hour  and  a 
half  the  tables  were  drawn  ;  and  the  King,  taking  courteous 
leave  of  his  guests,  gave  the  signal  that  it  was  his  desire  to 
be  alone. 

So  soon  as  all,  even  Oliver,  had  retired,  he  called  Quentin 
from  his  place  of  concealment ;  but  with  a  voice  so  faint, 
that  the  youth  could  scarce  believe  it  to  be  the  same  which 
had  so  lately  given  animation  to  the  jest  and  zest  to  the  tale. 
As  he  approached,  he  saw  an  equal  change  in  his  countenance. 
The  light  of  assumed  vivacity  had  left  the  King's  eyes,  the 
smile  had  deserted  his  face,  and  he  exhibited  all  the  fatigue 
of  a  celebrated  actor,  when  he  has  finished  the  exhausting 
representation  of  some  favorite  character,  in  which,  while 
upon  the  stage,  he  had  displayed  the  utmost  vivacity. 

"  Thy  watch  is  not  yet  over,"  said  he  to  Quentin.     '*Re- 

*  See  Louis's  Humor.    Note  33. 


WAVEBLET  NOVELS 


fresh  thyself  for  an  instant — j^onder  table  affords  the  means 
— I  will  then  instruct  thee  in  thy  farther  duty.  Meanwhile, 
it  is  ill  talking  between  a  full  man  and  a  fasting:." 

He  threw  himself  back  on  the  seat,  covered  his  brow  with 
his  hand,  and  was  sileut^ 


I 


^OHAPTER  XI 

THE  HALL  OF  ROLAN^D 

Painters  show  Cupid  blind.     Hath  Hymen  eyes  ? 

Or  is  his  sight  warp'd  by  those  spectacles 

Which  parents,  guardians,  and  advisers  lend  him, 

That  he  may  look  through  them  on  lands  and  mansions, 

On  jewels,  gold,  and  all  such  rich  dotations, 

And  see  their  value  ten  times  magnified  ? 

Methinks  'twill  brook  a  question. 

The  Miseries  of  Enforced  Marriage. 

Louis  the  XL  of  France,  though  the  sovereign  in  Europe 
who  was  fondest  and  most  jealous  of  power,  desired  only  its 
substantial  enjoyment ;  and  though  he  knew  well  enough, 
and  at  times  exacted  strictly,  the  observances  due  to  his 
rank,  was  in  general  singularly  careless  of  show. 

In  a  prince  of  sounder  moral  qualities,  the  familiarity  with 
which  he  invited  subjects  to  his  board — nay,  occasionally  sat 
at  theirs — must  have  been  highly  popular  ;  and  even  such  as 
he  was,  the  King's  homeliness  of  manners  atoned  for  many 
of  his  vices  with  that  class  of  his  subjects  who  were  not  par- 
ticularly exposed  to  the  consequences  of  his  suspicion  and 
jealousy.  The  tiers  Hat,  or  commons,  of  France,  who  rose 
to  more  opulence  and  consequence  under  the  reign  of  this 
sagacious  prince,  respected  his  person,  though  they  loved 
him  not ;  and  it  was  resting  on  their  support  that  he  was 
enabled  to  make  his  party  good  against  the  hatred  of  the 
nobles,  who  conceived  that  he  diminished  the  honor  of  the 
French  crown,  and  obscured  their  own  splendid  privileges, 
by  that  very  neglect  of  form  which  gratified  the  citizens  and 
commons. 

With  patience,  which  most  other  princes  would  have 
considered  as  degrading,  and  not  without  a  sense  of  amuse- 
ment, the  monarch  of  France  waited  till  his  Life  Guardsman 
had  satisfied  the  keenness  of  a  youthful  appetite.  It  may 
be  supposed,  however,  that  Quentin  had  too  much  sense  and 
prudence  to  put  the  royal  patience  to  a  long  or  tedious 
proof  ;  and  indeed  he  was  repeatedly  desirous  to  break  off 
nis  repast  ere  Louis  would  permit  him.     * '  I  see  it  in  thine 

128 


124  WAVEttLET  NOVELS 

eye,"  he  saiid,  good-naturedly,  "  that  thy  ccurage  is  not  half 
abated.  Go  on — God  and  St.  Denis  ! — charge  again.  I  tell 
thee  that  meat  and  mass  (crossing  himself)  never  hindered 
the  work  *>f  a  good  Christian  man.  Take  a  cup  of  wine  ; 
but  mind  tbou  be  cautious  of  the  wine-pot ;  it  is  the  vice  of 
thy  countrymen  as  well  as  of  the  English,  who,  lacking  that 
folly,  are  the  choicest  soldiers  ever  wore  armor.  And  now 
wash  speedily  ;  forget  not  thy  benedicite,  and  follow  me," 

Quentin  obeyed,  and,  conducted  by  a  different,  but  as 
mazelike  an  approach  as  he  had  formerly  passed,  he  followed 
Louis  into  the  Hall  of  Roland. 

''  Take  i\otice,''  said  the  King,  imperatively,  *'  thou  hast 
never  left  i  his  post — let  that  be  thine  answer  to  thy  kinsman 
and  comra  ies ;  and,  hark  thee,  to  bind  the  recollection  on 
thy  memorf,  I  give  thee  this  gold  chain  (flinging  on  his  arm 
one  of  considerable  value).  If  I  go  not  brave  myself,  those 
whom  I  trT\st  have  ever  the  means  to  ruffle  it  with  the  best. 
But,  when  such  chains  as  these  bind  not  the  tongue  from 
wagging  toD  freely,  my  gossip,  L^Hermite,  hath  an  amulet 
for  the  thi'oat,  which  never  fails  to  work  a  certain  cure. 
And  now  attend.  No  man,  save  Oliver  or  I  myself,  enters 
here  this  erening  ;  but  ladies  will  come  hither,  perhaps  from 
the  one  extremity  of  the  hall,  perhaps  from  the  other,  per- 
haps one  from  each.  You  may  answer  if  they  address  you, 
but,  being  on  duty,  your  answer  must  be  brief ;  and  you 
must  neither  address  them  in  your  turn  nor  engage  in  any 
prolonged  discourse.  But  hearken  to  what  they  say.  Thine 
ears,  as  well  as  thy  hands,  are  mine  :  I  have  bought  thee, 
body  and  soul.  Therefore,  if  thou  hearest  aught  of  their 
conversation,  thou  must  retain  it  in  memory  until  it  is  com- 
municated to  me,  and  then  forget  it.  And,  now  I  think 
better  on  it,  it  will  be  best  that  thou  pass  for  a  Scottish  re- 
cruit, who  hath  come  straight  down  from  his  mountains, 
and  hath  not  yet  acquired  our  most  Christian  language.; 
Right.  So,  if  they  speak  to  thee,  thou  wilt  not  answer; 
this  will  free  you  from  embarrassment,  and  lead  them  to  con- 
verse without  regard  to  your  presence.  You  understand  me. 
Farewell,     Be  wary,  and  thou  hast  a  friend.''  > 

The  Kitvg  had  scarce  spoken  these  words  ere  he  disappeared 
behind  the  arras,  leaving  Quentin  to  meditate  on  what  he 
had  seen  and  heard.  The  youth  was  in  one  of  those  situa- 
tions ivoxn  which  it  is  pleasanter  to  look  forward  than  to  lool 
back ;  for  the  reflection  that  he  had  been  planted  like  j 
marksman  in  a  thicket  who  watches  for  a  stag,  to  take  thi 
life  of  the  noble  Count  of  Cr^vecoeur,  had  in  it  nothing  en- 


qUENTIN  DURWARD  126 

nobling.  It  was  very  true,  that  the  King's  measures  seemed 
on  this  occasion  merely  cautionary  and  defensive ;  but  how 
did  the  youth  know  but  he  might  be  soon  commanded  on 
some  offensive  operation  of  the  same  kind  ?  This  would  be 
an  unpleasant  crisis,  since  it  was  plain,  from  the  character  of 
his  master,  that  there  would  be  destruction  in  refusing,  while 
his  honor  told  him  there  would  be  disgrace  in  complying. 
He  turned  his  thoughts  from  this  subject  of  reflection,  with 
the  sage  consolation  so  often  adopted  by  youth  when  pros- 
pective dangers  intrude  themselves  on  their  mind,  that  it 
was  time  enough  to  think  what  was  to  be  done  when  the 
emergence  actually  arrived,  and  that  sufficient  for  the  day 
was  the  evil  thereof. 

Quentin  made  use  of  this  sedative  reflection  the  more  easily, 
that  the  last  commands  of  the  King  had  given  him  some- 
thing more  agreeable  to  think  of  than  his  own  condition. 
The  lady  of  the  lute  was  certainly  one  of  those  to  whom  his 
attention  was  to  be  dedicated  ;  and  well  in  his  mind  did  he 
promise  to  obey  one  part  of  the  King's  mandate,  and  listen 
with  diligence  to  every  word  that  might  drop  from  her  lips, 
that  he  might  know  if  the  magic  of  her  conversation  equalled 
that  of  her  music.  But  with  as  much  sincerity  did  he  swear 
to  himself,  that  no  part  of  her  discourse  should  be  reported 
by  him  to  the  King  which  might  affect  the  fair  speaker 
otherwise  than  favorably. 

Meantime  there  was  no  fear  of  his  again  slumbering  on 
his  post.  Each  passing  breath  of  wind  which,  finding  its 
way  through  the  open  lattice,  waved  the  old  arras,  sounded 
like  the  approach  of  the  fair  object  of  his  expectation.  He 
felt,  in  short,  all  that  mysterious  anxiety  and  eagerness  of 
expectation  which  is  always  the  companion  of  love,  and 
sometimes  hath  a  considerable  share  in  creating  it. 

At  length,  a  door  actually  creaked  and  jingled,  for  the 
doors  even  of  palaces  did  not  in  the  15th  century  turn  on 
their  hinges  so  noiseless  as  ours  ;  but,  alas  !  it  was  not  at 
that  end  of  the  hall  from  which  the  lute  had  been  heard. 
It  opened,  however,  and  a  female  figure  entered,  followed 
by  two  others,  whom  she  directed  by  a  sign  to  remain  with- 
out, while  she  herself  came  forward  into  the  hall.  By  her 
imperfect  and  unequal  gait,  which  showed  to  peculiar  dis- 
advantage as  she  traversed  this  long  gallery,  Quentin  at  once 
recognized  the  Princess  Joan,  and,  with  the  respect  which 
became  his  situation,  drew  himself  up  in  a  fitting  attitude 
of  silent  vigilance,  and  lowered  his  weapon  to  her  as  she 
passed.     She  acknowledged  the  courtesy  by  a  gracious  in- 


126  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

clination  of  her  head,  and  he  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing 
her  countenance  more  distinctly  than  he  had  in  the  morning. 

There  was  little  in  the  features  of  this  ill-fated  princess  to 
atone  for  the  misfortune  of  her  shape  and  gait.  Her  face 
was,  indeed,  by  no  means  disagreeable  in  itself,  though  des- 
titute of  beauty  ;  and  there  was  a  meek  expression  of  suffer- 
ing patience  in  her  large  blue  eyes,  which  were  commonly 
fixed  upon  the  ground.  But,  besides  that  she  was  extremely 
pallid  in  complexion,  her  skin  had  the  yellowish,  discolored 
tinge  which  accompanies  habitual  bad  health  ;  and  though 
her  teeth  were  white  and  regular,  her  lips  were  thin  and  pale. 
The  Princess  had  a  profusion  of  flaxen  hair,  but  it  was  so 
light-colored  as  to  be  almost  of  a  bluish  tinge  ;  and  her  tire- 
woman, who  doubtless  considered  the  luxuriance  of  her  mis- 
tress's tresses  as  a  beauty,  had  not  greatly  improved  matters 
by  arranging  them  in  curls  around  her  pale  countenance,  to 
which  they  added  an  expression  almost  corpse-like  and  un- 
earthly. To  make  matters  still  worse,  she  had  chosen  a 
vest  or  cymar  of  a  pale  green  silk,  which  gave  her,  on  the 
whole,  a  ghastly  and  even  spectral  api:)earance. 

While  Quentin  followed  this  singular  apparition  with  eyes 
in  which  curiosity  was  blended  with  compassion,  for  every 
look  and  motion  of  the  Princess  seemed  to  call  for  the  latter 
feeling,  two  ladies  entered  from  the  upper  end  of  the  apart- 
ment. 

One  of  these  was  the  young  person  who,  upon  Louis's  sum- 
mons, had  served  him  with  fruit,  while  Quentin  made  his 
memorable  breakfast  at  the  Fleur-de-Lys.  Invested  now 
with  all  the  mysterious  dignity  belonging  to  the  nymph  of 
the  veil  and  lute,  and  proved,  beside,  at  least  in  Quentin's 
estimation,  to  be  the  high-born  heiress  of  a  rich  earldom,  her 
beauty  made  ten  times  the  impression  upon  him  which  it  had 
done  when  he  beheld  in  her  one  whom  he  deemed  the 
daughter  of  a  paltry  innkeeper,  in  attendance  upon  a  rich 
and  humorous  old  burgher.  He  now  wondered  what  fasci- 
nation could  ever  have  concealed  from  him  her  real  charac- 
ter. Yet  her  dress  was  nearly  as  simple  as  before,  being  a 
suit  of  deep  mourning,  without  any  ornaments.  Her  head- 
dress was  but  a  veil  of  crape,  which  was  entirely  thrown 
back,  so  as  to  leave  her  face  uncovered ;  and  it  was  only 
Quentin's  knowledge  of  her  actual  rank  which  gave  in  hia 
estimation  new  elegance  to  her  beautiful  shape,  a  dignity  tOj 
her  step  which  had  before  remained  unnoticed,  and  to  h< 
regular  features,  brilliant  complexion,  and  dazzling  eyes 
9,ix  of  conscious  nobleness  that  enhanced,  their  beauty. 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  Wt 

Had  death  been  the  penalty,  Durward  must  needs  have 
rendered  to  this  beauty  and  her  companion  the  same  homage 
which  he  had  just  paid  to  the  royalty  of  the  Princess.  They 
received  it  as  those  who  were  accustomed  to  the  deference  of 
inferiors,  and  returned  it  with  courtesy ;  but  he  thought — 
perhaps  it  was  but  a  youthful  vision — that  the  young  lady 
colored  slightly,  kept  her  eyes  on  the  ground,  and  seemed 
embarrassed,  though  in  a  trifling  degree,  as  she  returned  his 
military  salutation.  This  must  have  been  owing  to  her  rec- 
ollection of  the  audacious  stranger  in  the  neighboring  tur- 
ret at  the  Fleur-de-Lys  ;  but  did  that  discomposure  express 
displeasure  ?     This  question  he  had  no  means  to  determine. 

The  companion  of  the  youthful  countess,  dressed  like  her- 
self simply,  and  in  deep  mourning,  was  at  the  age  when 
women  are  apt  to  cling  most  closely  to  that  reputation  for 
beauty  which  has  for  years  been  diminishing.  She  had  still 
remains  enough  to  show  what  the  power  of  her  charms  must 
once  have  been,  and,  remembering  past  triumphs,  it  was 
evident  from  her  manner  that  she  had  not  relinquished  the 
pretensions  to  future  conquests.  She  was  tall  and  graceful, 
though  somewhat  haughty  in  her  deportment,  and  returned 
the  salute  of  Quentin  with  a  smile  of  gracious  condescension, 
whispering,  the  next  instant,  something  into  her  compan- 
ion's ear,  who  turned  towards  the  soldier,  as  if  to  comply 
with  some  hint  from  the  elder  lady,  but  answered,  neverthe- 
less, without  raising  her  eyes.  Quentin  could  not  help  sus- 
pecting that  the  observation  called  on  the  young  lady  to 
notice  his  own  good  mien  ;  and  he  was  (I  do  not  know  why) 
pleased  with  the  idea  that  the  party  referred  to  did  not 
choose  to  look  at  him  in  order  to  verify  with  her  own  eyes 
the  truth  of  the  observation.  Probably  he  thought  there 
was  already  a  sort  of  mysterious  connection  beginning  to  exist 
between  them,  which  gave  importance  to  the  slightest 
trifle. 

This  reflection  was  momentary,  for  he  was  instantly  wrap- 
ped up  in  attention  to  the  meeting  of  the  Princess  Joan 
with  these  stranger  ladies.  She  had  stood  still  upon  their 
entrance,  in  order  to  receive  them,  conscious,  perhaps,  that 
motion  did  not  become  her  well  ;  and  as  she  was  somewhat 
embarrassed  in  receiving  and  repaying  their  compliments, 
the  elder  stranger,  ignorant  of  the  rank  of  the  party  whom 
,Bhe  addressed,  was  led  to  pay  her  salutation  in  a  manner 
rather  as  if  she  conferred  than  received  an  honor  through 
the  interview. 

"  1  r^loice,  madam/'  she  said,  with  a  smile,  which  was 


128  WAVJBRLET  NOVELS 

meant  to  express  condescension  at  once  and  encouragement, 
'*  that  we  are  at  length  permitted  the  society  of  such  a  res- 
pectable person  of  our  own  sex  as  you  appear  to  be.  I  must 
say  that  my  niece  and  I  have  had  but  little  for  which  to  thank 
the  hospitality  of  King  Louis.  Nay,  niece,  never  pluck  my 
sleeve.  I  am  sure  I  read  in  the  looks  of  this  young  lady, 
sympathy  for  our  situation.  Since  we  came  hither,  fair 
madam,  we  have  been  used  little  better  than  mere  prisoners  ; 
and  after  a  thousand  invitations  to  throw  our  cause  and  our 
persons  under  the  protection  of  France,  the  Most  Christian 
King  has  afforded  us  at  first  but  a  base  inn  for  our  residence, 
and  now  a  corner  of  this  moth-eaten  palace,  out  of  which 
we  are  only  permitted  to  creep  towards  sunset,  as  if  we  were 
bats  or  owls,  whose  appearance  in  the  sunshine  is  to  be  held 
matter  of  ill  omen.'' 

"  I  am  sorry,''  said  the  Princess,  faltering  with  the  awk- 
ward embarrassment  of  the  interview,  "  that  we  have  been 
unable,  hitherto,  to  receive  you  according  to  your  deserts. 
Your  niece,  I  trust,  is  better  satisfied  ?  " 

^'  Much — much  better  than  I  can  express,"  answered  the 
youthful  countess.  ''  I  sought  but  safety,  and  I  have  found 
solitude  and  secrecy  besides.  The  seclusion  of  our  former 
residence,  and  the  still  greater  solitude  of  that  now  assigned 
to  us,  augment,  in  my  eye,  the  favor  which  the  King  vouch- 
safed to  us  unfortunate  fugitives." 

''  Silence,  my  silly  cousin,"  said  the  elder  lady,  ''and  let 
us  speak  according  to  our  conscience,  since  at  last  we  are 
alone  with  one  of  our  own  sex — I  say  alone,  for  that  hand- 
some young  soldier  is  a  mere  statue,  since  he  seems  not  to 
have  the  use  of  his  limbs,  and  I  am  given  to  understand  he 
wants  that  of  his  tongue,  at  least  in  civilized  language — I 
say,  since  no  one  but  this  lady  can  understand  us,  I  must 
own  there  is  nothing  I  have  regretted  equal  to  taking  this 
French  journey.  I  looked  for  a  splendid  reception,  tourna- 
ments, carousals,  pageants,  and  festivals ;  and  instead  of 
which,  all  has  been  seclusion  and  obscurity  !  and  the  best 
society  whom  the  King  introduced  to  us  was  a  Bohemian 
vagabond,  by  whose  agency  he  directed  us  to  correspond 
with  our  friends  in  Flanders.  Perhaps,"  said  the  lady,  "it 
is  his  politic  intention  to  mew  us  up  here  until  our  lives'  end, 
that  he  may  seize  on  our  estates,  after  the  extinction  of  the 
ancient  house  of  Croye.  The  Duke  of  Burgundy  was  not  so 
cruel :  he  offered  my  niece  a  husband,  though  he  was  a  bad 
one." 

'*  I  ehould  have  thought  the  veil  preferable  to  an  eyil  hus- 


QUENTIN  DUB  WARD  129 

band/'  said  the  Princess,  with  difficulty  finding  opportunity 
to  interpose  a  word. 

''  One  would  at  least  wish  to  have  the  choice,  madam,"  re- 
plied the  voluble  dame.  "  It  is.  Heaven  knows,  on  account 
of  my  niece  that  I  speak;  for  myself,  I  have  long  laid  aside 
thoughts  of  changing  my  condition.  I  see  you  smile  but,  by 
my  halidome,  it  is  true  ;  yet  that  is  no  excuse  for  the  King, 
whose  conduct,  like  his  person,  hath  more  resemblance  to 
that  of  old  Michaud,  the  mone3^-changer  of  Ghent,  than  to 
the  successor  of  Charlemagne/' 

'^Hold!"  said  the  Princess,  with  some  asperity  in  her 
tone  ;  "  remember  you  speak  of  my  father." 

"  Of  your  father  ! ''  replied  the  Burgundian  lady  in  sur- 
prise. 

'*^  Of  my  father  !'*  repeated  the  Princess,  with  dignity. 
"  I  am  Joan  of  France.  But  fear  not,  madam,"  she  con- 
tinued, in  the  gentle  accent  which  was  natural  to  her,  '^you 
designed  no  offense,  and  I  have  taken  none.  Command  my 
influence  to  render  your  exile  and  that  of  this  interesting 
young  person  more  supportable.  Alas  !  it  is  but  little  I  have 
in  my  power  ;  but  it  is  willingly  offered." 

Deep  and  submissive  was  the  reverence  with  which  the 
Countess  Hameline  de  Croye,  so  was  the  elder  lady  called, 
received  the  obliging  offer  of  the  Princess's  protection.  She 
had  been  long  the  inhabitant  of  courts,  was  mistress  of  the 
manners  which  are  there  acquired,  and  held  firmly  the  estab- 
lished rule  of  courtiers  of  all  ages,  who,  although  their  usual 
private  conversation  turns  upon  the  vices  and  follies  of  their 
patrons,  and  on  the  injuries  and  neglect  which  they  them- 
selves have  sustained,  never  suffer  such  hints  to  drop  from 
them  in  the  presence  of  the  sovereign  or  those  of  his  family. 
The  lady  was,  therefore,  scandalized  to  the  last  degree  at  the 
mistake  which  had  induced  her  to  speak  so  indecorously  in 
presence  of  the  daughter  of  Louis.  She  would  have  exhausted 
herself  in  expressing  regret  and  making  apologies,  had  she 
not  been  put  to  silence  and  restored  to  equanimity  by  the 
Princess,  who  requested,  in  the  most  gentle  manner,  yet 
which,  from  a  daughter  of  France,  had  the  weight  of  a  com- 
mand, that  no  more  might  be  said  in  the  way  either  of  ex- 
cuse or  of  explanation. 

The  Princess  Joan  then  took  her  own  chair  with  a  dignity 
which  became  her,  and  compelled  the  two  strangers  to  sit,  one 
on  either  hand,  to  which  the  younger  consented  with  un- 
feigned and  respectful  diffidence,  and  the  elder  with  an  affec- 
tation of  deep  humility  and  deference,  which  was  intended 
9 


130  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

for  such.  They  spoke  together,  but  in  such  a  low  tone  that 
the  sentinel  could  not  overhear  the  discourse,  and  only  re- 
marked, that  the  Princess  seemed  to  bestow  much  of  her  re- 
gard on  the  younger  and  more  interesting  lady  ;  and  that  the 
Countess  Hameline,  though  speaking  a  great  deal  more,  at- 
tracted less  of  the  Princess's  attention  by  her  full  flow  of 
conversation  and  compliment  than  did  her  kinswoman  by  her 
brief  and  modest  replies  to  what  was  addressed  to  her. 

The  conversation  of  the  ladies  had  not  lasted  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  when  the  door  at  the  lower  end  of  the  hall  opened, 
and  a  man  entered  shrouded  in  a  riding-  cloak.  Mindful  of 
the  King's  injunction,  and  determined  not  to  be  a  second 
time  caught  slumbering,  Quentin  instantly  moved  towards 
the  intruder,  and,  interposing  between  him  and  the  ladies, 
requested  him  to  retire  instantly. 

'*By  whose  command  ?"  said  the  stranger,  in  a  tone  of 
contemptuous  surprise. 

"  By  that  of  the  King/'  said  Quentin,  firmly,  *'  which  I 
am  placed  here  to  enforce.'' 

*'  Not  against  Louis  of  Orleans,"  said  the  duke,  dropping 
his  cloak. 

The  young  man  hesitated  a  moment  ;  but  how  enforce 
his  orders  against  the  first  prince  of  the  blood,  about  to  be 
allied,  as  the  report  now  generally  went,  with  the  King's 
own  family  ? 

''Your  Highness,"  he  said,  "is  too  great  that  your  pleas- 
ure should  be  withstood  by  me.  I  trust  your  Highness 
will  bear  me  witness  that  I  have  done  the  duty  of  my  post, 
so  far  as  your  will  permitted." 

"  Go  to — you  shall  have  no  blame,  young  soldier,"  said 
Orleans  ;  and  passing  forward,  paid  his  compliments  to  the 
Princess  with  that  air  of  constraint  which  always  marked 
his  courtesy  when  addressing  her. 

"  He  had  been  dining,"  he  said,  ''  with  Dunois,  and  under- 
standing there  was  society  in  Roland's  Gallery,  he  had  ven- 
tured on  the  freedom  of  adding  one  to  the  number." 

The  color  which  mounted  into  the  pale  cheek  of  the  un* 
fortunate  Joan,  and  which  for  the  moment  spread  some 
thing  of  beauty  over  her  features,  evinced  that  this  addi 
tion  to  the  company  was  anything  but  indifferent  to  herj 
She  hastened  to  present  the  Prince  to  the  two  Ladies 
Croye,  who  received  him  with  the  respect  due  to  his  emj 
nent  rank  ;  and  the  Princess,  pointing  to  a  chair,  requestei 
him  to  join  their  conversation  party. 

The  duke  declined  the  freedom  of  assuming  a  seat  in  8U( 


Q  UENTIN  D  UR  WAttD  it\ 

society  ;  but  taking  a  cushion  from  one  of  the  settles,  he 
laid  it  at  the  feet  of  the  beautiful  young  Countess  of  Croye, 
and  so  seated  himself  that,  without  appearing  to  neglect  the 
Princess,  he  was  enabled  to  bestow  the  greater  share  of  his 
attention  on  her  lovely  neighbor. 

At  first,  it  seemed  as  if  this  arrangement  rather  pleased 
than  offended  his  destined  bride.  She  encouraged  the  duke 
in  his  gallantries  towards  the  fair  stranger,  and  seemed  to 
regard  them  as  complimentary  to  herself.  But  the  Duke  of 
Orleans,  though  accustomed  to  subject  his  mind  to  the  stern 
yoke  of  his  uncle  when  in  the  King's  presence,  ]iad  enough 
of  princely  nature  to  induce  him  to  follow  his  own  inclina- 
tions whenever  that  restraint  was  withdrawn  ;  and  his  high 
rank  giving  him  a  right  to  overstep  the  ordinary  ceremonies 
and  advance  at  once  to  familiarity,  his  praises  of  the  Coun- 
tess Isabelle's  beauty  became  so  energetic,  and  flowed  with 
such  unrestrained  freedom,  owing  perhaps  to  his  having 
drunk  a  little  more  wine  than  usual,  for  Dunois  was  no 
enemy  to  the  worship  of  Bacchus,  that  at  length  he  seemed 
almost  impassioned,  and  the  presence  of  the  Princess  ap- 
peared wellnigh  forgotten. 

The  tone  of  compliment  which  he  indulged  was  grateful 
only  to  one  individual  in  the  circle ;  for  the  Countess  Hame- 
line  already  anticipated  the  dignity  of  an  alliance  with  the 
first  prince  of  the  blood,  by  means  of  her  whose  birth, 
beauty,  and  large  possessions  rendered  such  an  ambitious 
consummation  by  no  means  impossible,  even  in  the  eyes  of  a 
less  sanguine  projector,  could  the  views  of  Louis  XL  have 
been  left  out  of  the  calculation  of  chances.  The  younger 
countess  listened  to  the  duke's  gallantries  with  anxiety  and 
embarrassment,  and  ever  and  anon  turned  an  entreating  look 
towards  the  Princess,  as  if  requesting  her  to  come  to  her 
relief.  But  the  wounded  feelings  and  the  timidity  of  Joan 
of  France  rendered  her  incapable  of  an  effort  to  make  the 
conversation  more  general  ;  and  at  length,  excepting  a  few 
interjectional  civilities  of  the  Lady  Hameline,  it  was  main- 
tained almost  exclusively  by  the  duke  himself,  though  at 
the  expense  of  the  younger  Countess  of  Croye,  whose  beauty 
formed  the  theme  of  his  high-flown  eloquence. 

Nor  must  I  forget  that  there  was  a  third  person,  the  un- 
regarded sentinel,  who  saw  his  fair  visions  melt  away  like 
wax  before  the  sun,  as  the  duke  persevered  in  the  warm  tenor 
of  his  passionate  discourse.  At  length  the  Countess  Isa- 
belle  de  Croye  made  a  determined  effort  to  cut  short  what 
wag  becoming  intolerably  disagreeable  to  her,  especially  from 


132  WAVUBLST  isrOVELS 

the  pain  to  which  the  conduct  of  the  duke  was  apparently 
subjecting  the  Princess. 

Addressing  the  latter,  she  said,  modestly,  but  with  some 
firmness,  that  the  first  boon  she  had  to  claim  from  her  prom- 
ised protection  was,  "  That  her  Highness  would  under- 
take to  convince  the  Duke  of  Orleans  that  the  ladies  of  Bur- 
gundy, though  inferior  in  wit  and  manners  to  those  of 
France,  were  not  such  absolute  fools  as  to  be  pleased  with 
no  other  conversation  than  that  of  extravagant  compliment/' 

'^  I  grieve,  lady,^'  said  the  Duke,  preventing  the  Princess's 
answer,  ''  that  you  will  satirize,  in  the  same  sentence,  the 
beauty  of  the  dames  of  Burgundy  and  the  sincerity  of  the 
knights  of  France.  If  we  are  hasty  and  extravagant  in  the 
expression  of  our  admiration,  it  is  because  we  love  as  we 
fight,  without  letting  cold  deliberation  come  into  our  bosoms, 
and  surrender  to  the  fair  with  the  same  rapidity  with  which 
we  defeat  the  valiant." 

"The  beauty  of  our  countrywomen,"  said  the  young 
countess,  with  more  of  reproof  than  she  had  yet  ventured  to 
use  towards  the  high-born  suitor,  "  is  as  unfit  to  claim  such 
triumphs  as  the  valor  of  the  men  of  Burgundy  is  incapable  of 
yielding  them." 

"  I  respect  your  patriotism,  countess,"  said  the  duke  ; 
*'  and  the  last  branch  of  your  theme  shall  not  be  imi)ugned 
by  me  till  a  Burgundian  knight  shall  offer  to  sustain  it  with 
lance  in  rest.  But  for  the  injustice  which  you  have  done  to 
the  charms  which  your  land  produces,  I  appeal  from  your- 
self to  yourself.  Look  there,"  he  said,  pointing  to  a  large 
mirror,  the  gift  of  the  Venetian  republic,  and  then  of  the 
highest  rarity  and  value,  "  and  tell  me  as  you  look,  what  is 
the  heart  that  can  resist  the  charms  there  represented  ?" 

The  Princess,  unable  to  sustain  any  longer  the  neglect  of 
her  lover,  here  sank  backwards  on  her  chair  with  a  sigh, 
which  at  once  recalled  the  duke  from  the  land  of  romance, 
and  induced  the  Lady  Hameline  to  ask  whether  her  High- 
ness found  herself  ill. 

"A  sudden  pain  shot  through  my  forehead,"  said  the 
Princess,  attempting  to  smile ;  *'  but  I  shall  be  presently 
better." 

Her  increasing  paleness  contradicted  her  words,  and  in- 
duced the  Lady  Hameline  to  call  for  assistance,  as  the  Prin- 
cess was  about  to  faint. 

The  duke,  biting  his  lip  and  cursing  the  folly  which  could 
not  keep  guard  over  his  tongue,  ran  to  summon  the  Princess's   I 
attendants,  who  were  in  the  next  chamber ;  and  when  thej 


QUENTIN  BUB  WARD  133 

came  hastily  with  the  usual  remedies,  he  could  not  but,  as  a 
cavalier  and  gentleman,  give  his  assistance  to  support  and  to 
recover  her.  His  voice,  rendered  almost  tender  by  pity  and 
self-reproach,  was  the  most  powerful  means  of  recalling  her 
to  herself,  and  just  as  the  swoon  was  passing  away  the  King 
himself  eutered  the  apartment. 


mi 


CHAPTER  Xn 

THE  POLITICIAK 

This  is  a  lecturer  so  skill'd  in  policy, 
That  (no  disparagement  to  Satan's  cunning) 
He  well  might  read  a  lesson  to  the  devil, 
And  teach  the  old  seducer  new  temptations. 

Old  Play. 

As  Louis  entered  the  gallery,  he  bent  his  brows  in  the  man- 
ner  we  have  formerly  described  as  peculiar  to  him,  and  sent, 
from  under  his  gathered  and  gloomy  eyebrows,  a  keen  look 
on  all  around  ;  in  darting  which,  as  Quentin  afterwards  de- 
clared, his  eyes  seemed  to  turn  so  small,  so  fierce,  and  so 
piercing,  as  to  resemble  those  of  an  aroused  adder  looking 
through  the  bush  of  heath  in  which  he  lies  coiled. 

When,  by  this  momentary  and  sharpened  glance,  the  King 
had  reconnoitred  the  cause  of  the  bustle  which  was  in  the 
apartment,  his  first  address  was  to  the  Duke  of  Orleans. 

''You  here,  my  fair  cousin  ?"  he  said  ;  and  turning  to 
Quentin,  added  sternly,  "  Had  you  not  charge  ?'' 

"Forgive  the  young  man,  sire,''  said  the  Duke  ;  '' he  did 
not  neglect  his  duty  ;  but  I  was  informed  that  the  Princess 
was  in  this  gallery.'' 

"  And  I  warrant  you  would  not  be  withstood  when  you 
came  hither  to  pay  your  court,"  said  the  King,  whose  de- 
testable hypocrisy  persisted  in  representing  the  duke  as  par- 
ticipating in  a  passion  which  was  felt  only  on  the  side  of  his 
unhappy  daughter  ;'  '*  and  it  is  thus  you  debauch  the  senti- 
nels of  my  Guard,  young  man  ?  But  what  cannot  be 
pardoned  to  a  gallant  who  only  lives  par  amours  !  " 

The  Duke  of  Orleans  raised  his  head,  as  if  about  to  reply 
in  some  manner  which  might  correct  the  opinion  conveyed 
in  the  King's  observation  ;  but  the  instinctive  reverence,  not 
to  say  fear,  of  Louis,  in  which  he  had  been  bred  from  child- 
hood, chained  up  his  voice. 

"  And  Joan  hath  been  ill  ?  "  said  the  King.  "But  do  not 
be  grieved,  Louis,  it  will  soon  pass  away  ;  lend  her  your  arm 
to  her  apartment,  while  I  will  conduct  these  strange  ladies 
to  theirs." 

m 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  31J0 

The  order  was  given  in  a  tone  which  amounted  to  a  com- 
mand, and  Orleans  accordingly  made  his  exit  with  the 
Princess  at  one  extremity  of  the  gallery,  while  the  King, 
ungloving  his  right  hand,  courteously  handed  the  Countess 
Isabelleand  her  kinswoman  to  their  apartment,  which  opened 
from  the  other.  He  bowed  profoundly  as  they  entered,  and 
remained  standing  on  the  threshold  for  a  minute  after  they 
had  disappeared  ;  then,  with  great  composure,  stiut  the  door 
by  which  they  had  retired,  and  turning  the  huge  key,  took 
it  from  the  lock  and  put  it  into  his  girdle — an  appendage 
which  gave  him  still  more  perfectly  the  air  of  some  old  miser, 
who  cannot  journey  in  comfort  unless  he  bear  with  him  the 
key  of  his  treasure  closet. 

With  slow  and  pensive  step,  and  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground, 
Louis  now  paced  towards  Quentin  Durward,  who,  expecting 
his  share  of  the  royal  displeasure,  viewed  his  approach  with 
no  little  anxiety. 

'^  Thou  hast  done  wrong,''  said  the  King,  raising  his  eyes, 
and  fixing  them  firmly  on  him  when  he  had  come  within  a 
yard  of  him — ''  thou  hast  done  foul  wrong,  and  deservest  to 
die.  Speak  not  a  word  in  defense  !  What  hadst  thou 
to  do  with  dukes  or  princesses  ?  what  with  a7iy  thing  but 
my  order  ?  " 

"  So  please  your  Majesty,'''  said  the  young  soldier,  "  what 
could  I  do?" 

"  What  couldst  thou  do  when  thy  post  was  forcibly 
passed?"  answered  the  King,  scornfully.  ''What  is  the 
use  of  that  weapon  on  thy  shoulder  ?  Thou  shouldst  have 
leveled  thy  piece,  and  if  the  presumptuous  rebel  did  not 
retire  on  the  instant,  he  should  have  died  within  this  very 
hall  !  Go — pass  into  these  farther  apartments.  In  the  first 
thou  wilt  find  a  large  staircase,  which  leads  to  the  inner 
bailey  ;  there  thou  wilt  find  Oliver  Dain.  Send  him  to  me  ; 
do  thou  begone  to  thy  quarters.  As  thou  dost  value  thy 
life,  be  not  so  loose  of  thy  tongue  as  thou  hast  been  this  day 
slack  of  thy  hand." 

Well  pleased  to  escape  so  easily,  yet  with  a  soul  which 
revolted  at  the  cold-blooded  cruelty  which  the  King  seemed 
to  require  from  him  in  the  execution  of  his  duty,  Durward 
took  the  road  indicated,  hastened  downstairs,  and  communi- 
cated the  royal  pleasure  to  Oliver,  who  was  waiting  in  the 
court  beneath.  The  wily  tonsor  bowed,  sighed,  and  smiled, 
as,  with  a  voice  even  softer  than  ordinary,  he  wished  the 
youth  a  good  evening ;  and  they  parted,  Quentin  to  hii 
quarters,  and  Oliver  to  attend  the  King. 


136  n^AVERLEY  NOVELS 

In  this  place,  the  Memoirs  which  we  have  chiefly  followed 
in  compiling  this  true  history  were  unhappily  defective  ;  for, 
founded  chiefly  on  information  supplied  by  Quentin,  they  do 
not  convey  the  purport  of  the  dialogue  which  in  his  absence, 
took  place  between  the  King  and  his  secret  counselor.  For- 
tunately, the  library  of  Hautlieu  contains  a  manuscript 
copy  of  the  Ohronique  Scandaleuse  of  Jean  de  Troyes,  much 
more  full  than  that  which  has  been  printed  ;  to  which  are 
added  several  curious  memoranda,  which  we  incline  to  think 
must  have  been  written  down  by  Oliver  himself  after  the  death 
of  his  master,  and  before  he  had  the  happiness  to  be  rewarded 
with  the  halter  which  he  had  so  long  merited.  From  this 
we  have  been  able  to  extract  a  very  full  account  of  the 
obscure  favorite's  conversations  with  Louis  upon  the  present 
occasion,  which  throws  a  light  upon  the  policy  of  that 
prince  which  we  might  otherwise  have  sought  for  in  vain. 

When  the  favorite  attendant  entered  the  Gallery  of  Eoland, 
he  found  the  King  pensively  seated  upon  the  chair  which 
his  daughter  had  left  some  minutes  before.  Well  acquainted 
with  his  temper,  he  glided  on  with  his  noiseless  step  until 
he  had  just  crossed  the  line  of  the  King's  sight,  so  as  to 
make  him  aware  of  his  presence,  then  shrank  modestly  back- 
ward and  out  of  sight,  until  he  should  be  summoned  to  speak 
or  to  listen.  The  monarch's  first  address  was  an  unpleasant 
one  :  '^  So,  Oliver,  your  fine  schemes  are  melting  like  snow 
before  the  south  wind  !  I  pray  to  our  Lady  of  Embrun 
that  they  resemble  not  the  ice-heaps  of  which  the  Switzer 
churls  tell  such  stories,  and  come  rushing  down  upon  our 
heads." 

*'  I  have  heard  with  concern  that  all  is  not  well,  sire,'' 
answered  Oliver. 

'*  Not  well  ! "  exclaimed  the  King,  rising  and  hastily  march- 
ing up  and  down  the  gallery.  '^  All  is  ill,  man,  as  ill  nearly 
as  possible  ;  so  much  for  thy  fond  romantic  advice  that  I, 
of  all  men,  should  become  a  protector  of  distressed  damsels  ! 
I  tell  thee  Burgundy  is  arming,  and  on  the  eve  of  closing  an 
alliance  with  England.  And  Edward,  who  hath  his  hands 
idle  at  home,  will  pour  his  thousands  upon  us  through  that 
unhappy  gate  of  Calais.  Singly,  I  might  cajole  or  defy  them  ; 
but  united — united,  and  with  the  discontent  and  treachery 
of  that  villain  St.  Paul  !  All  thy  faults,  Oliver,  who  coun- 
seled me  to  receive  the  women,  and  to  use  the  services  of 
that  damned  Bohemian  to  carry  messages  to  their  vassals." 

"  My  liege,"  said  Oliver,  '^  you  know  my  reasons.  The 
countess's  domains  lie  between  the  frontiers  of  Burgundy 


Qtf^NTIN  DURWARD  1^7 

and  Flanders,  her  castle  is  almost  impregnable,  her  rights 
over  neighboring  estates  are  such  as,  if  well  supported,  can- 
not but  give  much  annoyance  to  Burgundy,  were  the  lady 
but  wedded  to  one  who  should  be  friendly  to  France/' 

'^  It  is — it  is  a  tempting  bait,"  said  the  King  ;  *'  and  could 
we  have  concealed  her  being  here,  we  might  have  arranged 
such  a  marriage  for  this  rich  heiress  as  would  have  highly 
profited  France.  But  that  cursed  Bohemian,  how  couldst 
thou  recommend  such  a  heathen  hound  for  a  commission 
which  required  trust  ?*' 

'*  Please  you,''  said  Oliver,  '^  to  remember  it  was  your 
Majesty's  self  who  trusted  him  too  far — much  farther  than 
I  recommended.  He  would  have  borne  a  letter  trustily 
enough  to  the  countess's  kinsman,  telling  him  to  hold  out 
her  castle,  and  promising  speedy  relief  ;  but  your  Highness 
must  needs  put  his  prophetic  powers  to  the  test ;  and  thus 
he  became  possessed  of  secrets  which  were  worth  betraying 
to  Duke  Charles." 

"  I  am  ashamed — I  am  ashamed,"  said  Louis.  '^  And  yet, 
Oliver,  they  say  that  these  heathen  people  are  descended 
from  the  sage  Chaldeans,  who  did  read  the  mysteries  of  the 
stars  in  the  plains  of  Shinar." 

Well  aware  that  his  master,  with  all  his  acuteness  and  sa- 
gacity, was  but  the  more  prone  to  be  deceived  by  soothsayers, 
astrologers,  diviners,  and  all  that  race  of  pretenders  to  occult 
science,  and  that  he  even  conceived  himself  to  have  some 
skill  in  these  arts,  Oliver  dared  to  press  this  point  no  farther  ; 
and  only  observed  that  the  Bohemian  had  been  a  bad 
prophet  on  his  own  account,  else  he  would  have  avoided 
returning  to  Tours,  and  saved  himself  from  the  gallows  he 
had  merited. 

''  It  of  ten  happens  that  those  who  are  gifted  with  prophetic 
knowledge,"  answered  Louis,. with  much  gravity,  ^'have  not 
the  power  of  foreseeing  those  events  in  which  they  them- 
selves are  personally  interested." 

'*  Under  your  Majesty's  favor,"  replied  the  confidant,  '^  that 
seems  as  if  a  man  could  not  see  his  own  hand  by  means  of 
the  candle  which  he  holds,  and  which  shows  him  every  other 
object  in  the  apartment." 

*'  He  cannot  see  his  own  features  by  the  light  which  shows 
the  faces  of  others,"  replied  Louis  ;  ^'  and  that  is  the  more 
faithful  illustraion  of  the  case.  But  this  is  foreign  to  my 
purpose  at  present.  The  Bohemian  hath  had  his  reward, 
and  peace  be  with  him.  But  these  ladies — not  only  does 
Burgundy  theaten  us  with  war  for  harboring  them,  but  their 


138  WAVEULSY  NOVELS 

presence  is  like  to  interfere  with  my  projects  in  my  own 
family.  My  simple  cousin  of  Orleans  hath  barely  seen  this 
damsel,  and  I  venture  to  prophesy  that  the  sight  of  her  is 
like  to  make  him  less  pliable  in  the  matter  of  his  alliance 
with  Joan." 

"Your  Majesty,"  answered  the  counselor,  ''may  send  the 
Ladies  of  Croye  back  to  Burgundy,  and  so  make  your  peace 
with  the  Duke.  Many  might  murmur  at  this  as  dishonor- 
able ;  but  if  necessity  demands  the  sacrifice " 

''If  profit  demanded  the  sacrifice,  Oh'ver,  the  sacrifice 
should  be  made  without  hesitation,^'  answered  the  King. 
"  I  am  an  old  experienced  salmon,  and  use  not  to  gulp  the 
angler's  hook  because  it  is  busked  up  with  a  feather  called 
honor.  But  what  is  worse  than  a  lack  of  honor,  there  were, 
in  returning  those  ladies  to  Burgundy,  a  forfeiture  of  those 
views  of  advantage  which  moved  us  to  give  them  an  asylum. 
It  were  heart-breaking  to  renounce  the  opportunity  of  plant- 
ing a  friend  to  ourselves  and  an  enemy  to  Burgundy  in  the 
very  center  of  his  dominions,  and  so  near  to  the  discontented 
cities  of  Flanders.  Oliver,  I  cannot  relinquish  the  advan- 
tages which  our  scheme  of  marrying  the  maiden  to  a  friend 
of  our  own  house  seems  to  hold  out  to  us.'' 

"  Your  Majesty,"  said  Oliver,  after  a  moment's  thought, 
''might  confer  her  hand  on  some  right  trusty  friend,  who 
would  take  all  blame  on  himself,  and  serve  your  Majesty 
secretly,  while  in  public  you  might  disown  him." 

"And  where  am  I  to  "find  such  a  friend  ?"  said  Louis. 
"  Were  I  to  bestow  her  upon  any  one  of  our  mutinous  and 
ill-ruled  nobles,  would  it  not  be  rendering  him  independent  ? 
and  hath  it  not  been  my  policy  for  years  to  prevent  them 
from  becoming  so  ?  Dunois  indeed — him,  and  him  only,  I 
might  perchance  trust.  He  would  fight  for  the  crown  of 
France,  whatever  were  his  condition.  But  honors  and 
wealth  change  men's  natures.  Even  Dunois  I  will  not 
trust." 

"  Your  Majesty  may  find  others,"  said  Oliver,  in  his 
smoothest  manner,  and  in  a  tone  more  insinuating  than  that 
which  he  usually  employed  in  conversing  with  the  King, 
who  permitted  him  considerable  freedom:  "men  depend- 
ent entirely  on  your  own  grace  and  favor,  and  who  could  no 
more  exist  without  your  countenance  than  without  sun  or 
air,  men  rather  of  head  than  of  action,  men  who " 

"  Men  who  resemble  thyself,  ha ! "  said  King  Louis. 
"  No,  Oliver,  by  my  faith  that  arrow  was  too  rashly  shot  I 
What  I  because  I  indulge  thee  with  my  confidence^  and  let 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  139 

tihee  in  reward,  poll  my  lieges  a  little  now  and  then,  dost 
thou  think  it  makes  thee  fit  to  be  the  husband  of  that  beauti- 
ful vision,  and  a  count  of  the  highest  class  to  the  boot  ? — 
thee,  thee,  I  say,  low-born  and  lower-bred,  M'hose  wisdom  is 
at  best  a  sort  of  cunning,  and  whose  courage  is  more  than 
doubtful  ?'' 

'*  Your  Majesty  imputes  to  me  a  presumption  of  which  I 
am  not  guilty,  in  supposing  me  ti  aspire  so  highly,^'  said 
Oliver. 

''I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  man,"  replied  the  King;  ''and 
truly,  I  hold  your  judgment  the  healthier  that  you  disown 
such  a  reverie.  But  methinks  thy  speech  sounded  strangely 
in  that  key.  Well,  to  return.  I  dare  not  wed  this  beauty 
to  one  of  my  subjects  ;  I  dare  not  return  her  to  Burgundy  ; 
I  dare  not  transmit  her  to  England  or  to  Germany,  where 
she  is  likely  to  become  the  prize  of  some  one  more  apt  to 
unite  with  Burgundy  than  with  France,  and  who  would  be 
more  ready  to  discourage  the  honest  malcontents  in  Ghent 
and  Liege  than  to  yield  them  that  wholesome  countenance 
which  might  always  find  Charles  the  Hardy  enough  to  exer- 
cise his  valor  on,  without  stirring  from  his  own  domains — 
and  they  were  in  so  ripe  a  humor  for  insurrection,  the  men 
of  Liege  in  especial,  that  they  alone,  well  heated  and  sup- 
ported, would  find  my  fair  cousin  work  for  more  than  a 
twelvemonth  ;  and  backed  by  a  warlike  Count  of  Croye — 
0,  Oliver  !  the  plan  is  too  hopeful  to  be  resigned  without  a 
struggle.     Cannot  thy  fertile  brain  devise  some  scheme  ?" 

''  Oliver  paused  for  a  long  time ;  then  at  last  replied, 
*'  What  if  a  bridal  could  be  accomplished  betwixt  Isabelle 
of  Croye  and  young  Adolphus,  the  Duke  of  Gueldres  ?" 

'*  What ! "  said  the  King,  in  astonishment  ;  '*  sacrifice  her, 
and  she,  too,  so  lovely  a  creature,  to  the  furious  wretch  who 
deposed,  imprisoned,  and  has  often  threatened  to  murder, 
his  own  father  !  No,  Oliver — no,  that  were  too  unutterably 
cruel  even  for  you  and  me,  who  look  so  steadfastly  to  our 
excellent  end,  the  peace  and  the  welfare  of  France,  and  re- 
spect so  little  the  means  by  which  it  is  attained.  Besides, 
he  lies  distant  from  us,  and  is  detested  by  the  people  of 
Ghent  and  Liege.  No — no,  I  will  none  of  Adolphus  of  Guel- 
dres ;  think  on  some  one  else." 

"  My  invention  is  exhausted,  sire,"  said  the  counselor ; 
"  I  can  remember  no  one  who,  as  husband  to  the  Countess  of 
Croye,  would  be  likely  to  answer  your  Majesty's  views.  He 
must  unite  such  various  qualities — a  friend  to  your  Majesty, 
ftn  enemy  fco  Burgundy,  of  policy  enough  to  conciliate  th« 


140  WA  VERLEY  NOVEL S 

Ganntois  and  Liegeois,  and  of  valor  sufficient  to  defend  hia 
little  dominions  against  the  power  of  Duke  Charles  ;  of  noble 
birth  besides — that  your  Highness  insists  upon  ;  and  of  ex- 
cellent and  most  virtuous  character,  to  the  boot  of  all." 

"  Nay,  Oliver/*  said  the  King,  ''  I  learned  not  so  much — 
that  in,  so  very  much,  on  character  ;  butmethinks  Isabelle's 
bridegroom  should  be  something  less  publicly  and  generally 
abhorred  than  Adolphus  of  Gueldres.  For  example,  since 
I  myself  must  suggest  some  one,  why  not  William  de  la 
Marck?" 

*'  On  my  halidome,  sire,''  said  Oliver,  "  I  cannot  com- 
plain of  your  demanding  too  high  a  standard  of  moral  ex- 
cellence in  the  happy  man,  if  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes  can 
serve  your  turn.  De  la  Marck  !  why,  he  is  the  most  notori- 
ous robber  and  murderer  on  all  the  frontiers,  excommunicated 
by  the  Pope  for  a  thousand  crimes.'' 

"We  will  have  him  released  from  the  sentence,  friend 
Oliver  ;  holy  church  is  merciful." 

'^Almost  an  outlaw,"  continued  Oliver,  ''and  under  the 
ban  of  the  Empire,  by  an  ordinance  of  the  Chamber  at 
Eatisbon." 

*'  We  will  have  the  ban  taken  off,  friend  Oliver,"  continued 
the  King  in  the  same  tone  ;  ''  the  Imperial  Chamber  will 
hear  reason." 

''  And  admitting  him  to  be  of  noble  birth,"  said  Oliver. 
*'  he  hath  the  manners,  the  face,  and  the  outward  form,  a& 
well  as  the  heart,  of  a  Flemish  butcher.  She  will  never 
accept  of  him." 

"His  mode  of  wooing,  if  I  mistake  him  not,"  said  Louis, 
"will  render  it  difficult  for  her  to  make  a  choice." 

"I  was  far  wrong,  indeed,  when  I  taxed  your  Majesty  with 
being  over  scrupulous,"  said  the  counselor.  "  On  my  life, 
the  crimes  of  Adolphus  are  but  virtues  to  those  of  De  la 
Marck  !  And  then  how  is  he  to  meet  with  his  bride  ?  Your 
Majesty  knows  he  dare  not  stir  far  from  his  own  Forest  of 
Ardennes." 

"  That  must  be  cared  for,"  said  the  King  ;  "  and,  in  the 
first  place,  the  two  ladies  must  be  acquainted  privately  thatj 
they  can  be  no  longer  maintained  at  this  court,  except  at  th< 
expense  of  a  war  between  France  and  Burgundy,  and  thatJ 
unwilling  to  deliver  them  up  to  my  fair  cousin  of  Burgundy,! 
I  am  desirous  they  should  seceretly  depart  from  my  d( 
minions." 

"  They  will  demand  to  be  conveyed  to  England,"  sale 
Oliver;  "and  we  shall  have  her  return  to  Flanders  with 


I 


QUEWTIN  BUR  WARD  141 


island  lord,  having  a  round  fair  face,  long  brown  hair,  and 
three  thousand  archers  at  his  back/' 

"  No — no/'  replied  the  King  :  ''  we  dare  not — you  under- 
stand me — so  far  offend  our  fair  cousin  of  Burgundy  as  to 
let  her  pass  to  England.  It  would  bring  his  displeasure  as 
certainly  as  our  maintaining  her  here.  No — no,  to  the 
safety  of  the  church  alone  we  will  venture  to  commit  her ; 
and  the  utmost  we  can  do  is  to  connive  at  the  Ladies 
Hameline  and  Isabelle  de  Croye  departing  in  disguise,  and 
with  a  small  retinue,  to  take  refuge  with  the  Bishop  of  Liege, 
who  will  place  the  fair  Isabelle  for  the  time  under  the  safe- 
guard of  a  convent.'' 

"And  if  that  convent  protect  her  from  William  de  la 
Marck,  when  he  knows  of  your  Majesty's  favorable  inten- 
tions, I  have  mistaken  the  man." 

''^  Why,  yes,"  answered  the  King,  ''thanks  to  our  secret 
supplies  of  money,  De  la  Marck  hath  together  a  handsome 
handful  of  as  unscrupulous  soldiery  as  ever  were  outlawed, 
with  which  he  contrives  to  maintain  himself  among  the 
woods,  in  such  a  condition  as  makes  him  formidable  both  to 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy  and  the  Bishop  of  Liege.  He  lacks 
nothing  but  some  territory  which  he  may  call  his  own  ;  and 
this  being  so  fair  an  opportunity  to  establish  himself  by 
marriage,  I  think  that,  Pasques-dieu  !  he  will  find  means 
to  win  and  wed,  without  more  than  a  hint  on  our  part.  The 
Duke  of  Burgundy  will  then  have  such  a  thorn  in  his  side 
as  no  lancet  of  our  time  will  easily  cut  out  from  his  flesh. 
The  Boar  of  Ardennes,  whom  he  has  already  outlawed, 
strengthened  by  the  possession  of  that  fair  lady's  lands, 
castles,  and  seigniory,  with  the  discontented  Liegeois  to 
boot,  who,  by  my  faith,  will  not  be  in  that  case  unwilling 
to  choose  him  for  their  captain  and  leader — let  Charles  then 
think  of  wars  with  France  when  he  will,  or  rather  let  him 
bless  his  stars  if  she  war  not  with  him.  How  dost  thou  like 
the  scheme,  Oliver,  ha  ?  " 

V  "Rarely,"  said  Oliver,  "save  and  except  the  doom  which 
confers  that  lady  on  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes.  By  my 
halidome,  saving  in  a  little  outward  show  of  gallantry,  Tristan, 
the  provost-marshal,  were  the  more  proper  bridegroom  of 
the  two." 

"  Anon  thou  didst  propose  Master  Oliver,  the  barber,"  said 
Louis;  "but  friend  Oliver  and  gossip  Tristan,  though  ex- 
cellent men  in  the  way  of  counsel  and  execution,  are  not  the 
stuff  that  men  make  counts  of.  Know  you  not  that  the  burg- 
hers of  Flanders  value  birth  in  other  men,  precisely  because 


142  WAVEHLEY  NOVELS 

they  have  it  not  themseves  ?  A  plebeian  mob  ever  desire 
an  aristocratic  leader.  Yonder  Ked,  or  Cade — how  called 
they  him  ? — in  England,  was  fain  to  lure  his  rascal  rout  after 
him  by  pretending  to  the  blood  of  the  Mortimers.  William 
de  la  Marck  comes  of  the  blood  of  the  princes  of  Sedan,  as 
noble  as  mine  own.  And  now  to  business.  I  must  deter- 
mine the  Ladies  of  Oroye  to  a  speedy  and  secret  flight,  under 
sure  guidance.  This  will  be  easily  done  :  we  have  but  to 
hint  the  alternative  of  surrendering  them  to  Burgundy. 
Thou  must  find  means  to  let  William  de  la  Marck  know  of 
their  motions,  and  let  him  choose  his  own  time  and  place  to 
push  his  suit.     I  know  a  fit  person  to  travel  with  them.'' 

**  May  1  ask  to  whom  your  Majesty  commits  such  an  im- 
portant charge  ?  "  asked  the  tonsor. 

*'  To  a  foreigner,  be  sure,''  replied  the  King,  "  one  who 
has  neither  kin  nor  interest  in  France,  to  interfere  with  the 
execution  of  my  pleasure  ;  and  who  knows  too  little  of  the 
country  and  its  factions  to  suspect  more  of  my  purpose  than 
I  choose  to  tell  him — in  a  word,  I  design  to  employ  the 
young  Scot  who  sent  you  hither  but  now." 

Oliver  paused  in  a  manner  which  seemed  to  imply  a  doubt 
of  the  prudence  of  the  choice,  and  then  added,  "  Your 
Majesty  has  reposed  confidence  in  that  stranger  boy  earlier 
than  is  your  wont." 

"  I  have  my  reasons,"  answered  the  King.  '*  Thou  knowest 
(and  he  crossed  himself)  my  devotion  for  the  blessed  St. 
Julian.  I  had  been  saying  my  orisons  to  that  holy  saint  late 
in  the  night  before  last,  wherein,  as  he  is  known  to  be  the 
guardian  of  travelers,  I  made  it  m.y  humble  petition  that  he 
would  augment  my  household  with  such  wandering  for- 
eigners as  might  best  establish  throughout  our  kingdom  un- 
limited devotion  to  our  will ;  and  I  vowed  to  the  good  saint 
,  in  guerdon  that  I  would,  in  his  name,  receive,  and  relieve, 
and  maintain  them." 

**  And  did  St.  Julian,"  said  Oliver,  "  send  your  Majesty 
this  long-legged  importation  from  Scotland  in  answer  to 
your  prayers  ?  " 

Although  the  barber,  who  well  knew  that  his  master  had 
superstition  in  a  large  proportion  to  his  want  of  religion, 
and  that  on  such  topics  nothing  was  more  easy  than  to  offend 
him — although,  I  say,  he  knew  the  royal  weakness,  and 
therefore  carefully  put  the  preceding  question  in  the  softest 
and  most  simple  tone  of  voice,  Louis  felt  the  innuendo 
which  it  contained,  and  regarded  the  speaker  with  high 
displeasure. 


qUENTIN  DURWARD  143 

"  Sirrah,''  he  said,  ''  thou  art  well  called  Oliver  the  Devil, 
who  darest  thus  to  sport  at  once  with  thy  master  and  with 
the  blessed  saints.  I  tell  thee,  wert  thou  one  grain  less 
necessary  to  me,  I  would  have  thee  hung  up  on  yonder  oak 
before  the  castle,  as  an  example  to  all  who  scoff  at  things 
holy  I  Know,  thou  infidel  slave,  that  mine  eyes  were  no 
sooner  closed  than  the  blessed  St.  Julian  was  visible  to  me, 
leading  a  young  man,  whom  he  presented  to  me,  saying, 
that  his  fortune  should  be  to  escape  the  sword,  the  cord,  the 
river,  and  to  bring  good  fortune  to  the  side  which  he  should 
espouse,  and  to  the  adventures  in  which  he  should  be  en- 
gaged. I  walked  out  on  the  succeeding  morning,  and  I  met 
with  this  youth,  whose  image  I  had  seen  in  my  dream.  In 
his  own  country  he  hath  escaped  the  sword,  amid  the 
massacre  of  his  whole  family,  and  here,  within  the  brief 
compass  of  two  days,  he  hath  been  strangely  rescued  from 
drowning  and  from  the  gallows,  and  hath  already,  on  a  par- 
ticular occasion,  as  I  but  lately  hinted  to  thee,  been  of  the 
most  material  service  to  me.  I  receive  him  as  sent  hither 
by  St.  Julian,  to  serve  me  in  the  most  difficult,  the  most 
dangerous,  and  even  the  most  desperate  services.^' 

The  King,  as  he  thus  expressed  himself,  doffed  his  hat, 
and  selecting  from  the  numerous  little  leaden  figures  with 
which  the  hat-band  was  garnished  that  which  represented 
St.  Julian,  he  placed  it  on  the  tablo,  as  was  often  his  wont 
when  some  peculiar  feeling  of  hope,  or  perhaps  of  remorse, 
happened  to  thrill  across  his  mind,  and,  kneeling  down  be- 
fore it,  muttered,  with  an  appearance  of  profound  devotion, 
'^  Sancte  Juliane,  adsis  precihus  nostris  !  Or  a — or  a  pro 
nobis  !  " 

This  was  one  of  those  ague  fits  of  superstitious  devotion 
which  often  seized  on  Louis  in  such  extraordinary  times  and 
places  that  they  gave  one  of  the  most  sagacious  monarchs 
who  ever  reigned  the  appearance  of  a  madman,  or  at  least  of 
one  whose  mind  was  shaken  by  some  deep  consciousness  of 
guilt. 

While  he  was  thus  employed,  his  favorite  looked  at  him 
with  an  expression  of  sarcastic  contempt,  which  he  scarce 
attempted  to  disguise.     Indeed,  it  was  one  of  this  man's 

Eeculiarities  that,  in  his  whole  intercourse  with  his  master, 
e  laid  aside  that  fondling,  purring  affectation  of  officious- 
ness  and  humility  which  distinguished  his  conduct  to  others  ; 
and  if  he  still  bore  some  resemblance  to  a  cat,  it  was  when 
the  animal  is  on  its  guard — watchful,  animated,  and  alert 
tor  »udd©ii  exertion.     The  cause  of  this  change  was  probably 


144  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

Oliver's  consciousness  that  his  master  was  himself  too  pro» 
found  a  hypocrite  not  to  see  through  the  hypocrisy  of 
ethers. 

'*  The  features  of  this  youth,  then,  if  I  may  presume  to 
speak,''  said  Oliver,  **  resemble  those  of  him  whom  your  dream 
exhibited?" 

"  Closely  and  intimately,"  said  the  King,  whose  imagina- 
tion, like  that  of  superstitious  people  in  general,  readily  im- 
posed upon  itself.  '^  I  have  had  his  horoscope  cast,  besides, 
by  Galeotti  Martivalle,  and  I  have  plainly  learned,  through 
his  art  and  mine  own  observation,  that  in  many  respects,  this 
unfriended  youth  has  his  destiny  under  the  same  constella- 
tion with  mine." 

Whatever  Oliver  might  think  of  the  causes  thus  boldly 
assigned  for  the  preference  of  an  inexperienced  stripling,  he 
dared  make  no  farther  objections,  well  knowing  that  Louis, 
who,  while  residing  in  exile,  had  bestowed  much  of  his  atten- 
tion on  the  supposed  science  of  Judicial  astrology,  would  lis- 
ten to  no  raillery  of  any  kind  which  impeached  his  skill.  He 
therefore  only  replied,  that  ''  He  trusted  the  youth  would 
prove  faithful  in  the  discharge  of  a  task  so  delicate." 

*'  We  will  take  care  he  hath  no  opportunity  to  be  other- 
wise," said  Louis  ;  ''  for  he  shall  be  privy  to  nothing  save  that 
he  is  sent  to  escort  the  Ladies  of  Croye  to  the  residence  of  the 
Bishop  of  Liege.  Of  the  probable  interference  of  William 
de  la  Marck  he  shall  know  as  little  as  they  themselves.  None 
shall  know  that  secret  but  the  guide ;  and  Tristan  or  thou 
must  find  one  fit  for  our  purpose." 

'^  But  in  that  case,"  said  Oliver,  '*  judging  of  him  from  his 
country  and  his  appearance,  the  young  man  is  like  to  stand 
to  his  arms  so  soon  as  the  Wild  Boar  comes  on  them,  and 
may  not  come  off  so  easily  from  the  tusks  as  he  did  this 
morning." 

'*  If  they  rend  his  heart-strings,"  said  Louis,  composedly, 
*'  St.  Julian,  blessed  be  his  name  !  can  send  me  another  m 
his  stead.  It  skills  as  little  that  the  messenger  is  slain  after 
his  duty  is  executed  as  that  the  flask  is  broken  when  the  wine 
is  drunk  out.  Meanwhile,  we  must  expedite  the  ladies'  de- 
parture, and  then  persuade  the  Count  de  Crevecoeur  that  it 
has  taken  place  without  our  connivance,  we  having  been 
desirous  to  restore  them  to  the  custody  of  our  fair  cousin, 
which  their  sudden  departure  has  unhappily  prevented." 

'^  The  count  is  perhaps  too  wise,  and  his  master  too  prej- 
udiced, to  believe  it." 

**  Holy  Mother ! "  said  Louis,  "  what  unbelief  would  that 


QUENTIN  DUniVARD  145 

be  in  Christian  men  !  But,  Oliver,  they  shtc^l  believe  us. 
We  will  throw  into  our  whole  conduct  towards  our  fair  cou- 
sin, Duke  Charles,  such  thorough  and  unlimited  confidence 
that,  not  to  believe  we  have  been  sincere  with  him  in  every 
respect,  he  must  be  worse  than  an  infidel.  I  tell  thee,  so  con- 
vinced am  I  that  I  could  make  Charles  of  Burgundy  think  of 
me  in  every  respect  as  I  would  have  him,  that,  were  it  neces- 
sary for  silencing  his  doubts,  I  would  ride  unarmed,  and  on  a 
palfrey,  to  visit  him  in  his  tent,  with  no  better  guard  about 
me  than  thine  own  simple  person,  friend  Oliver/' 

"  And  I,'^  said  Oliver,  *'  though  I  pique  not  myself  upon 
managing  steel  in  any  other  shape  than  that  of  a  razor,  would 
rather  charge  a  Swiss  battalion  of  pikes  than  I  would  accom- 
pany your  Highness  upon  such  a  visit  of  friendship  to  Charles 
of  Burgundy,  when  he  hath  so  many  grounds  to  be  well  as- 
sured that  there  is  enmity  in  your  Majesty's  bosom  against 
him." 

"  Thou  art  a  fool,  Oliver,''  said  the  King,  "  with  all  thy 
pretensions  to  wisdom,  and  art  not  aware  that  deep  policy 
must  often  assume  the  appearance  of  the  most  extreme  sim- 
plicity, as  courage  occasionally  shrouds  itself  under  the  show 
of  modest  timidity.  Were  it  needful,  full  surely  would  I  do 
what  I  have  said — the  saints  always  blessing  our  purpose,  and 
the  heavenly  constellations  bringing  round,  in  their  course, 
a  proper  conjuncture  for  such  an  exploit." 

In  these  words  did  King  Louis  XL  give  the  first  hint  of  the 
extraordinary  resolution  which  he  afterwards  adopted  in  order 
to  dupe  his  great  rival,  the  subse(][uent  execution  of  which 
had  very  nearly  proved  his  own  ruin. 

He  parted  with  his  counselor,  and  presently  afterwards 
went  to  the  apartment  of  the  Ladies  of  Croye.  Few  per- 
suasions beyond  his  mere  license  would  have  been  necessary 
to  determine  their  retreat  from  the  court  of  France,  upon 
the  first  hint  that  they  might  not  be  eventually  protected 
against  the  Duke  of  Burgundy ;  but  it  was  not  so  easy  to  in- 
duce them  to  choose  Liege  for  the  place  of  their  retreat. 
They  entreated  and  requested  to  be  transferred  to  Bretagne 
or  Calais,  where,  under  protection  of  the  Duke  of  Bretague, 
or  King  of  England,  they  might  remain  in  a  state  of  safety 
until  the  sovereign  of  Burgundy  should  relent  in  his  rigorous 
purpose  towards  them.  But  neither  of  these  places  of  safety 
at  all  suited  the  plans  of  Louis,  and  he  was  at  last  successful 
in  inducing  them  to  adopt  that  which  did  coincide  with 
them. 

The  power  of  the  Bishop  of  Liege  for  their  defense  was  not 

10 


i4d  WAVERLEY  NOt^tb 

to  be  questioned,  since  his  ecclesiastical  dignity  gave  him  the 
means  of  protecting  the  fugitives  against  all  Christian  princes; 
while  on  the  other  hand,  his  secular  forces,  if  not  numer- 
ous, seemed  at  least  sufficient  to  defend  his  person  and  all 
under  his  protection  from  any  sudden  violence.  The  diffi- 
culty was  to  reach  the  little  court  of  the  bishop  in  safety  ; 
but  for  this  Louis  promised  to  provide,  by  spreading  a  report 
that  the  Ladies  of  Oroye  had  escaped  from  Tours  by  night, 
under  fear  of  being  delivered  up  to  the  Burgundian  envoy, 
and  had  taken  their  flight  towards  Bretagne.  He  also 
promised  them  the  attendance  of  a  small  but  faithful  retinue 
and  letters  to  the  commanders  of  such  towns  and  fortresses 
as  they  might  pass,  with  instructions  to  use  every  means  for 
protecting  and  assisting  them  in  their  journejk 

The  Ladies  of  Croye,  although  internally  resenting  the 
ungenerous  and  discourteous  manner  in  which  Louis  thus 
deprived  them  of  the  promised  asylum  in  his  court,  were  so 
far  from  objecting  to  the  hasty  departure  which  he  proposed, 
that  they  even  anticipated  his  project  by  entreating  to  be 
permitted  to  set  forward  that  same  night.  The  Lady  Hame- 
line  was  already  tired  of  a  place  where  there  were  neither 
admiring  courtiers  nor  festivities  to  be  witnessed ;  and  the 
Lady  Isabelle  thought  she  had  seen  enough  to  conclude  that, 
were  the  temptation  to  become  a  little  stronger,  Louis  XL, 
not  satisfied  with  expelling  them  from  his  court,  would  not 
hesitate  to  deliver  her  up  to  her  irritated  suzerain,  the  Duke 
of  Burgundy.  Lastly,  Louis  himself  readily  acquiesced  in 
their  hasty  departure,  anxious  to  preserve  peace  with  Duke 
Charles,  and  alarmed  lest  the  beauty  of  Isabelle  should  in- 
terfere with  and  impede  the  favorite  plan  which  he  had 
formed  for  bestowing  the  hand  of  his  daughter  Joan  upon 
his  cousin  of  Orleans. 


CHAPTER  XIII  ^ 

':;''  THE    JOUENEY 

^■'  Talk  not  of  kings — I  scorn  the  poor  comparison ; 

1.'  I  am  a  sage,  and  can  command  the  elements, 

At  least  men  think  I  can  ;  and  on  that  thought 

I  found  unbounded  empire. 

Albumazar. 

Occupation"  and  adventure  might  be  said  to  crowd  upon 
the  young  Scottishman  with  the  force  of  a  spring-tide  ;  for 
he  was  speedily  summoned  to  the  apartment  of  his  captain, 
the  Lord  Crawford,  where,  to  his  astonishment,  he  again  be- 
held the  King.  After  a  few  words  respecting  the  honor  and 
trust  which  were  about  to  be  reposed  in  him,  which  made 
Quentin  internally  afraid  that  they  were  again  about  to  pro- 
pose to  him  such  a  watch  as  he  had  kept  upon  the  Count  of 
Crevecoeur,  or  perhaps  some  duty  still  more  repugnant  to 
his  feelings,  he  was  not  relieved  merely,  but  delighted,  with 
hearing  that  he  was  selected,  with  the  assistance  of  four 
others  under  his  command,  one  of  whom  was  a  guide,  to 
escort  the  Ladies  of  Croye  to  the  little  court  of  their  relative, 
the  Bishop  of  Liege,  in  the  safest  and  most  commodious, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  most  secret,  manner  possible.  A 
scroll  was  given  him,  in  which  were  set  down  directions  for 
his  guidance,  for  the  places  of  halt  (generally  chosen  in  ob- 
scure villages,  solitary  monasteries,  and  situations  remote 
from  towns),  and  for  the  general  precautions  which  he  was 
to  attend  to,  especially  on  approaching  the  frontier  of  Bur- 
gundy. He  was  sufficiently  supplied  with  instructions  what 
he  ought  to  say  and  do  to  sustam  the  personage  of  the  7naUre 
d'hotel  of  two  English  ladies  of  rank,  who  had  been  on  a 
pilgrimage  to  St.  Martin  of  Tours,  and  were  about  to  visit 
the  holy  city  of  Cologne,  and  worship  the  relics  of  the  sage 
Eastern  monarchs  who  came  to  adore  the  nativity  of  Beth- 
lehem ;  for  under  that  character  the  Ladies  of  Oroye  were 
to  journey. 

Without  having  any  defined  notions  of  the  cause  of  his 
delight,  Quentin  Durward's  heart  leaped  for  joy  at  the  idea  of 
approaehing  thus  nearly  to  the  person  of  the  beauty  of  the 


148  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

turret,  and  in  a  situation  which  entitled  him  to  her  conh- 
dence,  since  her  protection  was  in  so  great  a  degree  en- 
trusted to  his  conduct  and  courage.  He  felt  no  doubt  in 
his  own  mind  that  he  should  be  her  successful  guide  through 
the  hazards  of  her  pilgrimage.  Youth  seldom  thinks  of 
dangers  ;  and  bred  up  free,  and  fearless,  and  self-confiding, 
Quentin,  in  particular,  only  thought  of  them  to  defy  them. 
He  longed  to  be  exempted  from  the  restraint  of  the  royal 
presence,  that  he  might  indulge  the  secret  glee  with  which 
such  unexpected  tidings  filled  him,  and  which  prompted 
him  to  bursts  of  delight  which  would  have  been  totally  un- 
fitting for  that  society. 

But  Louis  had  not  yet  done  with  him.  That  cautious 
monarch  had  to  consult  a  counselor  of  a  different  stamp 
from  Oliver  le  Diable,  and  who  was  supposed  to  derive  his 
skill  from  the  superior  and  astral  intelligences,  as  men, 
judging  from  their  fruits,  were  apt  to  think  the  counsels  of 
Oliver  sprung  from  the  devil  himself. 

Louis  therefore  led  the  way,  followed  by  the  impatient 
Quentin,  to  a  separate  tower  of  the  Castle  of  Plessis,  in 
which  was  installed,  in  no  small  ease  and  splendor,  the  cele- 
brated astrologer,  poet,  and  philosopher,  Galeotti  Marti,  or 
Martius,  or  Martivalle,*  a  native  of  Narni,  in  Italy,  the  au- 
thor of  the  famous  treatise,  De  Vulgo  Incognitis,\  and  the 
subject  of  his  age's  admiration,  and  of  the  panegyrics  of 
Paulus  Jovius.  He  had  long  flourished  at  the  court  of  the 
celebrated  Matthias  Corvinus,  king  of  Hungary,  from  whom 
he  was  in  some  measure  decoyed  by  Louis,  who  grudged  the 
Hungarian  monarch  the  society  and  the  counsels  of  a  sage 
accounted  so  skilful  in  reading  the  decrees  of  Heaven. 

Martivalle  was  none  of  those  ascetic,  withered,  pale  pro- 
fessors of  mystic  learning  of  those  days,  who  bleared  their 
eyes  over  the  midnight  furnace,  and  macerated  their  bodies 
by  out-watching  the  polar  bear.  He  indulged  in  all  courtly 
pleasures,  and,  until  he  grew  corpulent,  had  excelled  in  all 
martial  sports  and  gymnastic  exercises,  as  well  as  in  the  use 
of  arms  ;  insomuch,  that  Janus  Pannonius  has  left  a  Latin 
epigram,  upon  a  wrestling-match  betwixt  Galeotti  and  a  re- 
nowned champion  of  that  art,  in  the  presence  of  the  Hun- 
garian king  and  court,  in  which  the  astrologer  was  com- 
pletely victorious. 

The  apartments  of  this  courtly  and  martial  sage  were  far 
more  splendidly  furnished  than  any  which  Quentin  had  yet 

*  See  Note  24. 
f  Concerning  Things  Unknown  to  the  Generality  of  Mankind. 


QtfSl^TlN  DtTRWAUt)  14b 

Been  in  the  royal  place  ;  and  tlie  carving  and  ornamented 
woodwork  of  his  library,  as  well  as  the  magnificence  dis- 
played in  the  tapestries,  showed  the  elegant  taste  of  the 
learned  Italian.  Out  of  his  study  one  door  opened  to  his 
sleeping-apartment,  another  led  to  the  turret  which  served 
as  his  observatory.  A  large  oaken  table,  in  the  midst  of  the 
chamber,  was  covered  with  a  rich  Turkey  carpet,  the  spoils 
of  the  tent  of  a  pacha  after  the  great  battle  of  Jaiza,  where 
the  astrologer  had  fought  abreast  with  the  valiant  champion 
of  Christendom,  Matthias  Corvinus.  On  the  table  lay  a 
variety  of  mathematical  and  astrological  instruments,  all  of 
the  most  rich  materials  and  curious  workmanship.  His  as- 
trolabe of  silver  was  the  gift  of  the  Emperor  of  Germany, 
and  his  JacoVs  staff  of  ebony,  jointed  with  gold  and  curi- 
ously inlaid,  was  a  mark  of  esteem  from  the  reigning  Pope. 
There  were  various  other  miscellaneous  articles  disposed 
on  the  table,  or  hanging  around  the  walls  ;  amongst  others, 
two  complete  suits  of  armor,  one  of  mail,  the  other  of  plate, 
both  of  which,  from  their  great  size,  seemed  to  call  the 
gigantic  astrologer  their  owner,  a  Spanish  toledo,  a  Scot- 
tish broadsword,  a  Turkish  scimitar,  with  bows,  quivers,  and 
other  warlike  weapons,  musical  instruments  of  several  dif- 
ferent kinds,  a  silver  crucifix,  a  sepulchral  antique  vase,  and 
several  of  the  little  brazen  Penates  of  the  ancient  heathens, 
with  other  curious  nondescript  articles,  some  of  which,  in 
the  superstitious  opinions  of  that  period,  seemed  to  be  de- 
signed for  magical  purposes.  The  library  of  this  singular 
character  was  of  the  same  miscellaneous  description  with  his 
other  effects.  Curious  manuscripts  of  classic  antiquity  lay 
mingled  with  the  voluminous  labors  of  Christian  divines, 
and  of  those  painstaking  sages  who  professed  the  chemical 
science,  and  proffered  to  guide  their  students  into  the  most 
secret  recesses  of  nature  by  means  of  the  Hermetical  philos- 
ophy. Some  were  written  in  the  Eastern  character,  and 
others  concealed  their  sense  or  nonsense  under  the  veil  of 
hieroglyphics  and  cabalistic  characters.  The  whole  apart- 
ment, and  its  furniture  of  every  kind,  ^ormed  a  scene  very 
impressive  on  the  fancy,  considering  the  general  belief  then 
indisputably  entertained  concerning  the  truth  of  the  occult 
sciences  ;  and  that  effect  was  increased  by  the  manners  and 
appearance  of  the  individual  himself,  who,  seated  in  a  huge 
chair,  was  employed  in  curiously  examining  a  specimen,  just 
issued  from  the  Frankfort  press,  of  the  newly  invented  art 
of  printing.*      .''     - 

*  See  Invention  of  Printing.    Note  25. 


150  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Galeotti  Martivalle  was  a  tall,  bulky,  yet  stately  man,  con- 
siderably past  his  prime,  and  whose  youthful  habits  of  ex- 
ercise, though  still  occasionally  resumed,  had  not  been  able 
to  contend  with  his  natural  tendency  to  corpulence,  in- 
creased by  sedentary  study  and  indulgence  in  the  pleasures 
of  the  table.  His  features,  though  rather  overgrown,  were 
dignified  and  noble,  and  a  santon  might  have  envied  the 
dark  and  downward  sweep  of  his  long-descending  beard. 
His  dress  was  a  chamber-robe  of  the  richest  Genoa  velvet, 
with  ample  sleeves,  clasped  with  frogs  of  gold,  and  lined 
with  sables.  It  was  fastened  round  his  middle  by  a  broad 
belt  of  virgin  parchment,  round  which  were  represented  in 
crimson  characters  the  signs  of  the  zodiac.  He  rose  and 
bowed  to  the  King,  vet  with  the  air  of  one  to  whom  such 
exalted  society  was  familiar,  and  who  was  not  at  all  likely, 
even  in  the  royal  presence,  to  compromise  the  dignity  then 
especially  affected  by  the  pursuers  of  science. 

'^You  are  engaged,  father,"  said  the  King,  "  and,  as  I 
think,  with  the  new-fashioned  art  of  multiplying  manu- 
scripts by  the  intervention  of  machinery.  Can  things  of 
such  mechanical  and  terrestrial  import  interest  the  thoughts 
of  one  before  whom  Heaven  has  unrolled  her  own  celestial 
volumes  ?  " 

''  My  brother, *'  replied  Martivalle — '^  for  so  the  tenant  of 
this  cell  must  term  even  the  King  of  France  when  he  deigns 
to  visit  him  as  a  disciple — believe  me  that,  in  considering 
the  consequences  of  this  invention,  1  read  with  as  certain 
augury  as  by  any  combination  of  the  heavenly  bodies  the 
most  awful  and  portentous  changes.  When  I  reflect  with 
what  slow  and  limited  supplies  the  stream  of  science  hath 
hitherto  descended  to  us,  how  difficult  to  be  obtained  by 
those  most  ardent  in  its  search,  how  certain  to  be  negler^ted 
by  all  who  regard  their  ease,  how  liable  to  be  diverted,  or 
altogether  dried  up,  by  the  invasions  of  barbarism — can  I 
look  forward  without  wonder  and  astonishment  to  the  lot  of 
a  succeeding  generation,  on  whom  knowledge  will  descend 
like  the  first  and  second  rain,  uninterrupted,  unabated, 
unbounded,  fertilizing  some  grounds  and  overflowing 
others,  changing  the  whole  form  of  social  life,  establishing 
and  overthrowing  religions,  erecting  and  destroying  king- 
doms  " 

''Hold,  Galeotti," said  Louis — ''shall  these  changes  come 
in  our  time  ?  " 

"No,  my  royal  brother,"  replied  Martivalle;  "this  in- 
vention may  be  likened  to  a  young  tree  which  is  now  newly 


qUENTIN  DURWABB  151 

planted,  but  shall,  in  succeeding  generations,  bear  fruit  as 
fatal,  yet  as  precious,  as  that  of  the  Garden  of  Eden — the 
knowledge,  namely,  of  good  and  evil." 

Louis  answered,  after  a  moment^s  pause,  *'  Let  futurity 
look  to  what  concerns  them  ;  we  are  men  of  this  age.,  and 
to  this  age  we  will  confine  our  care.  Sufficient  for  the  day 
is  the  evil  thereof.  Tell  me,  hast  thou  proceeded  farther 
in  the  horoscope  which  I  sent  to  thee,  and  of  which  you 
made  me  some  report  ?  I  have  brought  the  party  hither, 
that  you  may  use  palmistry,  or  chiromancy,  if  such  is  your 
pleasure.     The  matter  is  pressing." 

The  bulky  sage  arose  from  his  seat,  and,  approaching  the 
young  soldier,  fixed  on  him  his  keen  large  dark  eyes,  as  if 
he  were  in  the  act  of  internally  spelling  and  dissecting  every 
lineament  and  feature.  Blushing  and  borne  down  by  this 
close  examination  on  the  part  of  one  whose  expression  was 
80  reverent  at  once  and  commanding,  Quentin  bent  his  eyes 
on  the  ground,  and  did  not  again  raise  them  till  in  the  act 
of  obeying  the  sonorous  command  of  the  astrologer — "  Look 
up  and  be  not  afraid,  but  hold  forth  thy  hand. 

When  Martivalle  had  inspected  his  palm,  according  to  the 
form  of  the  mystic  arts  which  he  practiced,  he  led  the  King 
some  steps  aside.  *'  My  royal  brother,"  he  said,  "  the  phys- 
iognomy of  this  youth,  together  with  the  lines  impressed 
on  his  hand,  confirm,  in  a  wonderful  degree,  the  report 
which  I  founded  on  his  horoscope,  as  well  as  that  judg- 
ment which  your  own  proficiency  in  our  sublime  arts  in- 
duced you  at  once  to  form  of  him.  All  promises  that  this 
youth  will  be  brave  and  fortunate." 

'^  And  faithful  ?  "  said  the  King  ;  ''  for  valor  and  fortune 
square  not  always  with  fidelity." 

"And  faithful  also,"  said  the  astrologer;  "for  there  is 
manly  firmness  in  look  and  eye,  and  his  linea  vitce  is  deeply 
marked  and  clear,  which  indicates  a  true  and  upright  ad- 
herence to  those  who  do  benefit  or  lodffe  trust  in  him.  But 
yet " 

"  But  what  ?  "  said  the  King.  "  Father  Galeotti,  where- 
fore do  you  now  pause  ?" 

"  The  ears  of  kings,"  said  the  sage,  "  are  like  the  palates 
of  those  dainty  patients  which  are  unable  to  endure  the 
bitterness  of  the  drugs  necessary  for  their  recovery." 

"  My  ears  and  my  palate  have  no  such  niceness,"  said 
Louis  ;  "let  me  hear  what  is  useful  counsel,  and  swallow 
what  is  wholesome  medicine.  I  quarrel  not  with  the  rude- 
ness of  the  one  or  the  harsh  taste  of  the  other.     I  have  not 


152  WA VHBLSY  NOVELS 

been  cockered  in  wantonness  or  indulgence.  My  youth  was 
one  of  exile  and  suffering.  My  ears  are  used  to  harsh  coun- 
sel, and  take  no  offense  at  it." 

**  Then  plainly,  sire,"  replied  Galeotti,  **  if  you  have  aught 
in  your  purposed  commission  which — which,  in  short,  may 
startle  a  scrupulous  conscience — entrust  it  not  to  this  youth 
— at  least,  not  till  a  few  years'  exercise  in  your  service  has 
made  him  as  unscrupulous  as  others." 

'^  And  is  this  what  you  hesitated  to  speak,  my  good 
Galeotti  ?  and  didst  thou  think  thy  speaking  it  would  offend 
me  ?  "  said  the  King.  "  Alack,  I  know  that  thou  art  well 
sensible  that  the  path  of  royal  policy  cannot  be  always 
sqijared,  as  that  of  private  life  ought  invariably  to  be,  by  the 
abstract  maxim  ^,  of  religion  and  of  morality.  Wherefore  do 
we,  the  princes  of  the  earth,  found  churches  and  monas- 
teries, make  pilgrimages,  undergo  penances,  and  perform 
devotions,  with  which  others  may  dispense,  unless  it  be 
because  the  benefit  of  the  public,  and  the  welfare  of  our 
kingdoms,  force  us  upon  measures  which  grieve  our  con- 
sciences as  Christians  r  But  Heaven  has  mercy,  the  church 
an  unbounded  stock  of  merits,  and  the  intercession  of  Our 
Lady  of  Embrun  and  the  blessed  saints  is  urgent,  everlast- 
ing,  and  omnipotent."  He  laid  his  hat  on  the  table,  and 
devoutly  kneeling  before  the  images  stuck  into  the  hatband, 
repeated,  in  an  earnest  tone,  '' Sancte  Huherte,  Sancte 
JuUaney  Sancte  Martiney  Sancta  Rosalia^  Saudi  quotquot 
adestif  orate  pro  me  peccatore  !  "  He  then  smote  his  breast, 
arose,  reassumed  his  hat,  and  continued — "  Be  assured, 
good  father,  that,  whatever  there  may  be  in  our  commission 
of  the  nature  at  which  you  have  hinted,  the  execution  shall 
not  be  entrusted  to  this  youth,  nor  shall  he  be  privy  to  such 
part  of  our  purpose." 

**  In  this,"  said  the  astrologer,  ''you,  my  royal  brother, 
will  walk  wisely.  Something  may  be  apprehended  likewise 
from  the  rashness  of  this  your  young  commissioner — a  fail- 
ing inherent  in  those  of  sanguine  complexion.  But  I  hold 
that,  by  the  rules  of  art,  this  chance  is  not  to  be  weighed 
against  the  other  properties  discovered  from  his  horoscope 
and  otherwise." 

**  Will  this  next  midnight  be  a  propitious  hour  in  which 
to  commence  a  perilous  journey  ?"  said  the  King.  '*See, 
here  is  your  ephemerides  ;  you  see  the  position  of  the  moon 
in  regard  to  Saturn  and  the  ascendence  of  Jupiter.  That 
should  argue,  methinks,  in  submission  to  your  better  art,  suc- 
oesa  to  him  who  sends  forth  the  expedition  at  Buch  an  hour/ 


QUENTIN  DURWAEB  15S 

'  ''To  him  who  sends  forth  the  expedition/*  said  the  as- 
trologer, after  a  pause,  "  this  conjunction  doth  indeed  prom- 
ise success  ;  but  methinks  that  Saturn,  being  combust, 
threatens  danger  and  infortune  to  the  party  seyit ;  whence  I 
infer  that  the  errand  may  be  perilous,  or  even  fatal,  to  those 
who  are  to  Journey.  Violence  and  captivity,  methinks,  are 
intimated  in  that  adverse  conjunction." 

'*  Violence  and  captivity  to  those  who  are  sent,"  answered 
the  King,  ''but  success  to  the  wishes  of  the  sender.  Runs 
it  not  thus,  my  learned  father  ! " 

"  Even  so,"  replied  the  astrologer. 

The  King  paused,  without  giving  any  further  indication 
how  far  this  presaging  speech  (probably  hazarded  by  the  as- 
trologer from  his  conjecture  that  the  commission  related 
to  some  dangerous  purpose)  squared  with  his  real  object, 
which,  as  the  reader  is  aware,  was  to  betray  the  Countess 
Isabelle  of  Oroye  into  the  hands  of  William  de  la  Marck,  a 
nobleman  indeed  of  high  birth,  but  degraded  by  his  crimes 
into  a  leader  of  banditti,  distinguished  for  his  turbulent  dis- 
position and  ferocious  bravery. 

The  King  then  pulled  forth  a  paper  from  his  pocket,  and, 
ere  he  gave  it  to  Martivalle,  said,  in  a  tone  which  resembled 
that  of  an  apology — "  Learned  Galeotti,  be  notsuprised  that, 
possessing  in  you  an  oracular  treasure  superior  to  that  lodged 
in  the  breast  of  any  now  alive,  not  excepting  the  great  Nos- 
tradamus himself,  I  am  desirous  frequently  to  avail  myself 
of  your  skill  in  those  doubts  and  difficulties  which  beset 
every  prince  who  hath  to  contend  with  rebellion  within,  his 
land  and  with  external  enemies,  both  powerful  and  inveter- 
ate." 

*'When  I  was  honored  with  your  request,  sire,"  said  the 
philosopher,  *'  and  abandoned  the  court  of  Buda  for  that  of 
Plessis,  it  was  with  the  resolution  to  place  at  the  command  of 
my  royal  patron  whatever  my  art  had  that  might  be  of  serv- 
ice to  him." 

"Enough,  good  Martivalle — I  pray  thee  attend  to  the  im- 
port of  this  question."  He  proceeded  to  read  from  the 
paper  in  his  hand  :  "  A  person  having  on  hand  a  weighty 
controversy,  which  is  like  to  draw  to  debate  either  by  law  or 
by  force  of  arms,  is  desirous,  for  the  present,  to  seek  accom- 
modation by  a  personal  interview  with  his  antagonist.  He 
desires  to  know  what  day  will  be  propitious  for  the  execu- 
tion of  such  a  purpose  ;  also  what  is  likely  to  be  the  success 
of  such  a  negotiation,  and  whether  his  adversary  will  be 
moved  to  answer  the  confidence  thus  reposed  in  him  with 


154  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

gratitute  and  icindness,  or  may  rather  be  likely  to  abuse 
the  opportunity  and  advantage  which  such  meeting  may 
afford  him  V 

'^It  is  an  important  question/'  said  Martivalle,  when  the 
King  had  done  reading,  '*  and  requires  that  I  should  set  a 
planetary  figure,  and  give  it  instant  and  deep  consideration/' 

'  ^  Let  it  be  so,  my  good  father  in  the  sciences,  and  thou 
shalt  know  what  it  is  to  oblige  a  King  of  France.  We  are 
determined,  if  the  constellations  forbid  not — and  our  own 
humble  art  leads  us  to  think  that  they  approve  our  pur- 
pose— to  hazard  something,  even  in  our  own  person,  to  stop 
these  anti-Ohristian  wars/' 

"  May  the  saints  forward  your  Majesty's  pious  intent," 
said  the  astrologer,  ^^and  guard  your  sacred  person  !" 

"  Thanks,  learned  father.  Here  is  something,  the  while, 
to  enlarge  your  curious  library." 

He  placed  under  one  of  the  volumes  a  small  purse  of  gold  ; 
for,  economical  even  in  his  superstitions,  Louis  conceived  the 
astrologer  sufficiently  bound  to  his  service  by  the  pensions 
he  had  assigned  him,  and  thought  himself  entitled  to  the 
use  of  his  skill  at  a  moderate  rate,  even  upon  great  exigencies. 

Louis,  having  thus,  in  legal  phrase,  added  a  refreshing  fee 
to  his  general  retainer,  turned  from  him  to  address  Durward. 
^'  Follow  me,"  he  said,  ''  my  bonny  Scot,  as  one  chosen  by 
destiny  and  a  monarch  to  accomplish  a  bold  adventure.  All 
must  be  got  ready  that  thou  mayst  put  foot  in  stirrup  the 
very  instant  the  bell  of  St.  Martin's  tolls  twelve.  One  min- 
ute sooner,  one  minute  later,  were  to  forfeit  the  favorable 
aspect  of  the  constellations  which  smile  on  your  adventure." 

Thus  saying,  the  King  left  the  apartment,  followed  by  his 
young  Guardsman  ;  and  no  sooner  were  they  gone  than  the 
astrologer  gave  way  to  very  different  feelings  from  those 
which  seemed  to  animate  him  during  the  royal  presence. 

*'  The  niggardly  slave  ! "  he  said,  weighing  the  purse  in 
his  hand,  for,  being  a  man  of  unbounded  expense,  he  had 
almost  constant  occasion  for  money — *^^the  base,  sordid 
scullion!  A  coxswain's  wife  would  give  more  to  know  that 
her  husband  had  crossed  the  narrow  seas  in  safety.  He 
acquire  any  tincture  of  humane  letters  !  yes,  when  prowling 
foxes  and  yelling  wolves  become  musicians.  He  read  the 
glorious  blazoning  of  the  firmament !  ay,  when  sordid  moles 
shall  become  lynxes.  Post  tot  promissa — after  so  many 
promises  made,  to  entice  me  from  the  court  of  the  magnifi- 
cent Matthias,  where  Hun  and  Turk,  Christian  and  infidel, 
tJi©  Czar  of  Muscovia  and  the  Cham  of  Tartary  themselves. 


qUENTIN  DUB  WARD  155 

contended  to  load  me  with  gifts,  doth  he  think  I  am  to  abide 
in  this  old  castle,  like  a  bullfinch  in  a  cage,  fain  to  sing  as 
oft  as  he  chooses  to  whistle,  and  all  for  seed  and  water  ? 
Not  so — aut  inveniam  viam,  autfaciam:  I  will  discover  or  con- 
trive a  remedy.  The  Cardinal  Balue  is  politic  and  liberal ; 
this  query  shall  to  him,  and  it  shall  be  his  Eminence's  own 
fault  if  the  stars  speak  not  as  he  would  have  them/' 

He  again  took  the  despised  guerdon  and  weighed  it  in  his 
hand.  "  It  may  be,''  he  said,  ''  there  is  some  jewel  or  pearl  of 
price  concealed  in  this  paltry  case.  I  have  heard  he  can  be  lib- 
eral even  to  lavishness  when  it  suits  his  caprice  or  interest." 

He  emptied  the  purse,  which  contained  neither  more  nor 
less  than  ten  gold  pieces.  The  indignation  of  the  astrologer 
was  extreme.  ^'Thinks  he  that  for  such  paltry  rate  of  hire 
I  will  practise  that  celestial  science  which  I  have  studied 
with  the  Armenian  abbot  of  Istrahoff,  who  had  not  seen  the 
sun  for  forty  years  ;  with  the  Greek  Dubravius,  who  is  said 
to  have  raised  the  dead,  and  have  even  visited  the  Scheik 
Ebn  Hali  in  his  cave  in  the  deserts  of  Thebais  ?  No,  by 
Heaven  !  he  that  contemns  art  shall  perish  through  his  own 
ignorance.  Ten  pieces  !  a  pittance  which  I  am  half  ashamed 
to  offer  to  Toinette,  to  buy  her  new  breast-laces." 

So  saying,  the  indignant  sage  nevertheless  plunged  the 
contemned  pieces  of  gold  into  a  large  pouch  which  he  wore 
at  his  girdle,  which  Toinette  and  other  abettors  of  lavish 
expense  generally  contrived  to  empty  fully  faster  than  the 
pi  dosopher,  with  all  his  art,  could  find  the  means  of  filling. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  JOUKN^EY 

I  see  thee  yet,  fair  France  :  thou  favor'd  land 

Of  art  and  nature,  thou  art  still  before  me  ; 

Thy  sons,  to  whom  their  labor  is  a  sport, 

So  well  thy  grateful  soil  returns  its  tribute  ; 

Thy  sun-burned  daughters,  with  their  laughing  eyes 

And  glossy  raven-locks.     But,  favor'd  France, 

Thou  hast  had  many  a  tale  of  woe  to  tell, 

In  ancient  times  as  now. 

Anonymous. 

Avoiding  all  conversation  with  any  one,  for  such  was  his 
charge,  Quentin  Durward  proceeded  hastily  to  array  himself 
in  a  strong  but  plain  cuirass,  with  thigh  and  arm  pieces, 
and  placed  on  his  head  a  good  steel  cap  witjioiit  any  visor. 
To  these  was  added  a  handsome  cassock  of  chamois  leather, 
finely  dressed,  and  laced  down  the  seams  with  some  em- 
broidery, such  as  might  become  a  superior  officer  in  a  noble 
household. 

These  v/ere  brought  to  his  apartment  by  Oliver,  who, 
with  his  quiet,  insinuating  smile  and  manner,  acquainted 
him  that  his  uncle  had  been  summoned  to  mount  guard 
purposely  that  he  might  make  no  inquiries  concerning  these 
mysterious  movements. 

''Your  excuse  will  be  made  to  your  kinsman,"  said  Oliver, 
smiling  again  ;  ''  and,  my  dearest  son,  when  you  return 
safe  from  the  execution  of  this  pleasing  trust,  I  doubt  not 
you  will  be  found  worthy  of  such  promotion  as  will  dis- 
pense with  your  accounting  for  your  motions  to  any  one, 
while  it  will  place  you  at  the  head  of  those  who  must  render 
an  account  of  theirs  to  you.'^ 

So  spoke  Oliver  le  Diable,  calculating,  probably,  in  his 
own  mind  the  great  chance  there  was  that  the  poor  youth 
whose  hand  he  squeezed  affectionately  as  he  spoke  must 
necessarily  encounter  death  or  captivity  in  the  commission 
intrusted  to  his  charge.  He  added  to  his  fair  words  a  small 
purse  of  gold,  to  defray  necessary  expenses  on  the  road,  as 
%  gratuity  on  the  King  s  part. 

166 


qUENTIN  BUEWABD  167 

At  a  few  minutes  before  twelve  at  midnight,  Quentin,  ac- 
cording to  his  directions,  proceeded  to  the  second  court- 
yard, and  paused  under  the  Dauphin's  Tower,  which,  as  the 
reader  knows,  was  assigned  for  the  temporary  residence  of 
the  Countesses  of  Croye.  He  found,  at  this  place  of  ren- 
dezvous, the  men  and  horses  appointed  to  compose  the  ret- 
inue, leading  two  sumpter  mules  already  loaded  with  bag- 
gage, and  holding  three  palfreys  for  the  two  countesses  and 
a  faithful  waiting-woman,  with  a  stately  war-horse  for  him- 
self, whose  steel-plated  saddle  glanced  in  the  pale  moonlight. 
Not  a  word  of  recognition  was  spoken  on  either  side.  The 
men  sat  still  in  their  saddles,  as  if  they  were  motionless : 
and  by  the  same  imperfect  light  Quentin  saw  with  pleasure 
that  they  were  all  armed,  and  held  long  lances  in  their 
hands.  They  were  only  three  in  number  ;  but  one  of  them 
whispered  to  Quentin,  in  a  strong  Gascon  accent,  that  their 
guide  was  to  join  them  beyond  Tours. 

Meantime,  lights  glanced  to  and  fro  at  the  lattices  of  the 
tower,  as  if  there  was  bustle  and  preparation  among  its  in- 
habitants. At  length,  a  small  door,  which  led  from  the 
bottom  of  the  tower  to  the  court,  was  unclosed,  and  three 
females  came  forth,  attended  by  a  man  wrapped  in  a  cloak. 
They  mounted  in  silence  the  palfreys  which  stood  prepared 
for  them,  while  their  attendant  on  foot  led  the  way,  and 
gave  the  passwords  and  signals  to  the  watchful  guards, 
whose  posts  they  passed  in  succession.  Thus  they  at  length 
reached  the  exterior  of  those  formidable  barriers.  Here  the 
man  on  foot,  who  had  hitherto  acted  as  their  guide,  paused, 
and  spoke  low  and  earnestly  to  the  two  foremost  females. 

'*  May  Heaven  bless  you,  sire,"  said  a  voice  which  thrilled 
upon  Quentin  Durward's  ear,  "  and  forgive  you,  even  if 
your  purposes  be  more  interested  than  your  words  express  ! 
To  be  placed  in  safety  under  the  protection  of  the  good 
Bishop  of  Liege  is  the  utmost  extent  of  my  desire." 

The  person  whom  she  thus  addressed  muttered  an  inaudi- 
ble answer,  and  retreated  back  through  the  barrier-gate^ 
while  Quentin  thought  that,  by  the  moon-glimpse,  he  rec- 
ognized in  him  the  King  himself,  whose  anxiety  for  the 
departure  of  his  guests  had  probably  induced  him  to  give 
his  presence,  in  case  scruples  should  arise  on  their  part  or 
difficulties  on  that  of  the  guards  of  the  castle. 

When  the  riders  were  beyond  the  castle,  it  was  necessary 
for  some  time  to  ride  with  great  precaution,  in  order  to 
avoid  the  pitfalls,  snares,  and  similar  contrivances  which 
were  placed  for  the  annoyance  of  strangers.     The  Gascon 


158  WA  VEBLEY  NO VEL8 

was,  however,  completely  possessed  of  the  clue  to  this 
labyrinth,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  riding  they  found 
themselves  beyond  the  limits  of  Plessis  le  Pare,  and  not  far 
distant  from  the  city  of  Tours. 

The  moon,  which  had  now  extricated  herself  from  the 
clouds  through  which  she  was  formerly  wading,  shed  a  full 
sea  of  glorious  light  upon  a  landscape  equally  glorious. 
They  saw  the  princely  Loire  rolling  his  majestic  tide  through 
the  richest  plain  in  France,  and  sweeping  along  between 
banks  ornamented  with  towers,  and  terraces,  and  with  olives 
and  vineyards.  They  saw  the  walls  of  the  city  of  Tours, 
the  ancient  capital  of  Touraine,  raising  their  portal  towers 
and  embattlements  white  in  the  moonlight,  while  from  with- 
in their  circle  rose  the  immense  Gothic  mass  which  the  de- 
votion of  the  sainted  Bishop  Perpetuus  erected  as  early  as 
the  5th  century,  and  which  the  zeal  of  Charlemagne  and  his 
successors  had  enlarged  with  such  architectural  splendors  as 
rendered  it  the  most  magnificent  church  in  France.  The 
towers  of  the  church  of  St.  Gatien  were  also  visible,  and  the 
gloomy  strength  of  the  castle,  which  was  said  to  have  been, 
in  ancient  times,  the  residence  of  the  Emperor  Valentinian. 

Even  the  circumstances  in  which  he  w^as  placed,  though  of 
a  nature  so  engrossing,  did  not  prevent  the  wonder  and 
delight  with  which  the  young  Scottishman,  accustomed  to 
the  waste  though  impressive  landscape  of  his  own  mountains, 
and  the  poverty  even  of  his  country's  most  stately  scenery, 
looked  on  a  scene  which  art  and  nature  seemed  to  have  vied 
in  adorning  with  their  richest  splendor.  But  he  was  recalled 
to  the  business  of  the  moment  by  the  voice  of  the  elder  lady, 
pitched  at  least  an  octave  higher  than  those  soft  tones  which 
bid  adieu  to  King  Louis,  demanding  to  speak  with  the 
leader  of  the  band.  Spurring  his  horse  forward,  Quentin 
respectfully  presented  himself  to  the  ladies  in  that  capacity, 
and  thus  underwent  the  interrogatories  of  the  Lady  Hame- 
line. 

"  What  was  his  name,  and  what  his  degree  ?" 

He  told  both. 

"  Was  he  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  road  ?  " 

"  He  could  not,''  he  replied,  ''  pretend  to  much  knowledge 
of  the  route,  but  he  was  furnished  with  full  instructions, 
and  he  was,  at  their  first  resting-place  to  be  provided  with  a 
guide  in  all  respects  competent  to  the  task  of  directing  their 
farther  journey  ;  meanwhile,  a  horseman  who  had  just  joined 
them,  and  made  the  number  of  their  guard  four,  was  to  be 
their  guide  for  the  first  stage/' 


QUENTIN  DURWABD  159 

''And  wherefore  were  you  selected  for  such  a  duty,  young 
gentleman  ?  "  said  the  lady.  "  I  am  told  you  are  the  same 
youth  who  was  lately  upon  guard  in  the  gallery  in  which  we 
met  the  Princess  of  France.  You  seem  young  and  inexperi- 
enced for  such  a  charge ;  a  stranger,  too,  in  France,  and 
speaking  the  language  as  a  foreigner." 

"  I  am  bound  to  obey  the  commands  of  the  King,  madam, 
but  am  not  qualified  to  reason  on  them,"  answered  the  young 
soldier. 

"  Are  you  of  noble  birth  ?  "  demanded  the  same  querist. 

''I  may  safely  affirm  so,  madam,"  replied  Quentin. 

'*  And  are  you  not,"  said  the  younger  lady,  addressing  him 
in  her  turn,  but  with  a  timorous  accent,  ''the  same  whom  I 
saw  when  I  was  called  to  wait  upon  the  King  at  yonder 
inn  ?" 

Lowering  his  voice,  perhaps  from  similar  feelings  of 
timidity,  Quentin  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

''Then,  methinks,  my  cousin,"  said  the  Lady  Isabella, 
addressing  the  Lady  Hameline,  "  we  must  be  safe  under 
this  young  gentleman's  safeguard  ;  he  looks  not,  at  least, 
like  one  to  whom  the  execution  of  a  plan  of  treacherous 
cruelty  upon  two  helpless  women  could  be  with  safety  in- 
trusted." 

"On  my  honor,  madam,"  said  Durward,  "  by  the  fame  of 
my  house,  by  the  bones  of  my  ancestry,  I  could  not,  for 
France  and  Scotland  laid  into  one,  be  guilty  of  treachery  or 
cruelty  towards  you  !  " 

"You  speak  well,  young  man,"  said  the  Lady  Hameline  ; 
"  but  we  are  accustomed  to  hear  fair  speeches  from  the  King 
of  France  and  his  agents.  It  was  b}/  these  that  we  were 
induced,  when  the  protection  of  the  Bishop  of  Liege  might 
have  been  attained  with  less  risk  than  now,  or  when  we 
might  have  thrown  ourselves  on  that  of  Wenceslaus  of 
Germany  or  of  Edward  of  England,  to  seek  refuge  in  France. 
And  in  what  did  the  promises  of  the  King  result  ?  In  an 
obscure  and  shameful  concealing  of  us,  under  plebeian 
names,  as  a  sort  of  prohibited  wares,  in  yonder  paltry 
hostelry,  when  we,  who,  as  thou  knowest,  Marthon  (address- 
ing her  domestic),  never  put  on  our  head-tire  save  under  a 
canopy,  and  upon  a  dais  of  three  degrees,  were  compelled  to 
attire  ourselves  standing  on  the  simple  floor,  as  if  we  had 
been  two  milkmaids." 

Marthon  admitted  that  her  lady  spoke  a  most  melancholy 
truth. 

"  I  would  that  had  been  the  sorest  evil,  dear  kinswoman," 


160  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

said  the  Lady  Isabelle  ;  "  I  could  gladly  have  dispensed  with 
state/' 

^'  But  not  with  society,"  said  the  elder  countess  ;  ''  that, 
my  sweet  cousin,  was  impossible." 

*'I  would  have  dispensed  with  all,  my  dearest  kins- 
woman," answered  Isabelle,  in  a  voice  which  penetrated  to 
the  very  heart  of  her  young  conductor  and  guard — '^  with 
all,  for  a  safe  and  honorable  retirement.  I  wish  not — God 
knows,  I  never  wished — to  occasion  war  betwixt  France  and 
my  native  Burgundy,  or  that  lives  should  be  lost  for  such 
as  I  am.  I  only  implored  permission  to  retire  to  the  con- 
vent of  Marmoutier  or  to  any  other  holy  sanctuary." 

''  You  spoke  then  like  a  fool,  my  cousin,"  answered  the 
elder  lady,  ''  and  not  like  a  daughter  of  my  noble  brother. 
It  is  well  there  is  still  one  alive  who  hath  some  of  the  spirit 
of  the  noble  house  of  Oroye.  How  should  a  high-born  lady 
be  known  from  a  sunburnt  milkmaid  save  that  spears  are 
broken  for  the  one  and  only  hazel-poles  shattered  for  the 
other  ?  I  tell  you,  maiden,  that  while  I  was  in  the  very 
earliest  bloom,  scarcely  older  than  yourself,  the  famous  pas- 
age  of  arms  at  Haflinghem  was  held  in  my  honor ;  the  chal- 
lengers were  four,  the  assailants  so  many  as  twelve.  It 
lasted  three  days,  and  cost  the  lives  of  two  adventurous 
knights,  the  fracture  of  one  back-bone,  one  collar-bone, 
three  legs  and  two  arms,  besides  flesh-wounds  and  bruises  be- 
yond the  heralds'  counting ;  and  thus  have  the  ladies  of 
our  house  ever  been  honored.  Ah  !  had  you  but  half  the 
heart  of  your  noble  ancestry,  you  would  find  means  at  some 
court,  where  ladies'  love  and  fame  in  arms  are  still  prized, 
to  maintain  a  tournament,  at  which  your  hand  should  be  the 
prize,  as  was  that  of  your  great-grandmother  of  blessed 
memory  at  the  spear-running  of  Strasbourg ;  and  thus 
should  you  gain  the  best  lance  in  Europe  to  maintain  the 
rights  of  the  house  of  Croye,  both  against  the  oppression  of 
Burgundy  and  the  policy  of  France." 

*'  But,  fair  kinswoman,"  answered  the  younger  countess. 
"I  have  been  told  by  my  old  nurse  that,  although  the  Rhine- 
grave  was  the  best  lance  at  the  great  tournament  at  Stras- 
bourg, and  so  won  the  hand  of  my  hand  of  my  respected 
ancestor,  yet  the  match  was  no  happy  one,  as  he  used  often 
to  scold,  and  sometimes  even  to  beat,  my  great-grandmother 
of  blessed  memory." 

"  And  wherefore  not  ? "  said  the  elder  countess,  in  her 
romantic  enthusiasm  for  the  profession  of  chivalry — "  why 
ghould  those  victorious  arms,  accustomed  to  deal  blows  when 


qUENTlN  DUE  WARD  161 

abroad,  be  bound  to  restrain  their  energies  at  home  ?  A 
thousand  times  rather  would  I  be  beaten  twice  a-day  by  a 
husband  whose  arm  was  as  much  feared  by  others  as  by  me 
than  be  the  wife  of  a  coward,  who  dared  neither  to  lift  hand 
to  his  wife  nor  to  any  one  else/'        • 

*'I  should  wish  you  joy  of  such  an  active  mate,  fair  aunt/* 
replied  Isabelle,  "  without  envying  you  ;  for  if  broken  bones 
be  lovely  in  tourneys,  there  is  nothing  less  amiable  in  ladies* 
bower/' 

*'Nay,  but  the  beating  is  no  necessary  consequence  of 
wedding  with  a  knight  of  fame  in  arms,"  said  the  Lady 
Hameline  ;  "  though  it  is  true  that  our  ancestor  of  blessed 
memory,  the  Rhinegrave  Gottfried,  was  something  rough- 
tempered,  and  addicted  to  the  use  of  Rheinwein.  The  very 
perfect  knight  is  a  lamb  among  ladies  and  a  lion  among 
lances.  There  was  Thibault  of  Montigni — God  be  with  him  ! 
— he  was  the  kindest  soul  alive,  and  not  only  was  he  never 
so  discourteous  as  to  lift  hand  against  his  lady,  but,  by  our 
good  dame,  he  who  beat  all  enemies  without  doors  found  a 
fair  foe  who  could  belabor  him  within.  Well,  'twas  his  own 
fault.  He  was  one  of  the  challengers  at  the  passage  of 
Haflinghem,  and  so  well  bestirred  himself  that,  if  it  had 
pleased  Heaven,  and  your  grandfather,  there  might  have 
been  a  lady  of  Montigni  who  had  used  his  gentle  nature 
more  gently." 

The  Countess  Isabelle,  who  had  some  reason  to  dread  this 
passage  of  Haflinghem,  it  being  a  topic  upon  which  her 
aunt  was  at  all  times  very  diffuse,  suffered  the  conversation 
to  drop  ;  and  Quentin,  with  the  natural  politeness  of  one  who 
had  been  gently  nurtured,  dreading  lest  his  presence  might 
be  a  restraint  on  their  conversation,  rode  forward  to  join  the 
guide,  as  if  to  ask  him  some  questions  concerning  their 
route. 

Meanwhile,  the  ladies  continued  their  journey  in  silence, 
or  in  such  conversation  as  is  not  worth  narrating,  until  day 
began  to  break  ;  and  as  they  had  then  been  on  horseback  for 
several  hours,  Quentin,  anxious  lest  they  should  be  fatigued, 
became  impatient  to  know  their  distance  from  the  nearest 
resting-place. 

"  I  will  show  it  you,"  answered  the  guide,  ''  in  half  an 
hour." 

"And  then  you  leave  us  to  other  guidance  ?"  continued 
Quentin. 

*'  Even  so,  seignior  archer,"  replied  the  man ;  ''  my 
journeys  are   always  short   and  straight.     When  you  and 


162  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

others,  seignior  archer,  go  by  the  bow,  I  always  go  by  the 
cord/' 

The  moon  had  by  this  time  long  been  down,  and  the  lights 
of  dawn  were  beginning  to  spread  bright  and  strong  in  the 
east,  and  to  gleam  on  the  bosom  of  a  small  lake,  on  the  verge 
of  which  they  had  been  riding  for  a  short  space  of  time. 
This  lake  lay  in  the  midst  of  a  wide  plain,  scattered  over 
with  single  trees,  groves,  and  thickets  ;  but  which  might  be 
yet  termed  open,  so  that  objects  began  to  be  discerned  with 
sufficient  accuracy.  Quentin  cast  his  eye  on  the  person 
whom  he  rode  beside,  and,  under  the  shadow  of  a  slouched 
overspreading  hat,  which  resembled  the  sombrero  of  a 
Spanish  peasant,  he  recognized  the  facetious  features  of  the 
same  Petit- Andr6  whose  fingers,  not  long  since,  had,  in  con- 
cert with  those  of  his  lugubrious  brother,  Trois-Eschelles, 
been  so  unpleasantly  active  about  his  throat.  Impelled  by 
aversion  not  altogether  unmixed  with  fear  (for  in  his  own 
country  the  executioner  is  regarded  with  almost  superstitious 
horror),  which  his  late  narrow  escape  had  not  diminished, 
Durward  instinctively  moved  his  horse^s  head  to  the  right, 
and  pressing  him  at  the  same  time  with  the  spur,  made  a 
demi-volte,  which  separated  him  eight  feet  from  his  hateful 
companion. 

"Ho,  ho,  ho,  ho  P'  exclaimed  Petit- Andre  ;  ''by  our 
Lady  of  the  Greve,  our  young  soldier  remembers  us  of  old. 
What !  comrade,  you  bear  no  malice,  I  trust  ?  Every  one 
wins  his  bread  in  this  country.  No  man  need  be  ashamed 
of  having  come  through  my  hands,  for  I  will  do  my  work 
with  any  that  ever  tied  a  living  weight  to  a  dead  tree.  And 
God  hath  given  me  grace  to  be  such  a  merry  fellow  withal. 
Ha !  ha !  ha  !  I  could  tell  you  such  jests  I  have  cracked 
between  the  foot  of  the  ladder  and  the  top  of  the  gallows, 
that,  by  my  halidome,  I  have  been  obliged  to  do  my  job 
rather  hastily,  for  fear  the  fellows  should  die  with  laughing, 
and  so  shame  my  mystery  ! " 

As  he  thus  spoke,  he  edged  his  horse  sideways,  to  regain 
the  interval  which  the  Scot  had  left  between  them,  saying 
at  the  same  time,  "  Come,  seignior  archer,  let  there  be  no 
unkindness  betwixt  us  !  For  my  part,  I  always  do  my  duty 
without  malice,  and  with  a  light  heart,  and  I  never  love  a 
man  better  than  when  I  have  put  my  scant-of-wind  collar 
about  his  neck,  to  dub  him  knight  of  the  order  of  St.  Pati- 
bularius,  as  the  provost's  chaplain,  the  worthy  Father 
Vaconeldiablo,  is  wont  to  call  the  patron  saint  of  the 
proves  try /^ 


QUENriN  DURWARD  163 

"  Keep  back,  thou  wretched  object !"  exclaimed  Quentin, 
as  the  finisher  of  the  law  again  sought  to  approach  him 
closer,  ''  or  I  shall  be  tempted  to  teach  you  the  distance 
that  should  be  betwixt  men  of  honor  and  such  an  out- 
cast. " 

"  La  you  there,  how  hot  you  are  ! "  said  the  fellow.  '^  Had 
you  said  men  of  honesty,  there  had  been  some  savor  of  truth 
in  it ;  but  for  men  of  honor,  good  lack,  I  have  to  deal  with 
them  every  day,  as  nearly  and  closely  as  I  was  about  to  do 
business  with  you.  But  peace  be  with  you,  and  keep  your 
company  to  yourself.  I  would  have  bestowed  a  flagon  of 
Anvernat  upon  you  to  wash  away  every  unkindness  ;  but  ^tis 
like  you  scorn  my  courtesy.  Well.  Be  as  churlish  as  you 
list ;  I  never  quarrel  with  my  customers — my  jerry-come- 
tumbles,  my  merry  dancers,  my  little  playfellows,  as  Jacques 
Butcher  says  to  his  Iambs — those,  in  fine,  who,  like  your 
seigniorship,  have  H.  E.  M.  P.  written  on  their  foreheads. 
No — no,  let  them  use  me  as  they  list,  they  shall  have  my 
good  service  at  last ;  and  yourself  shall  see,  when  you  next 
come  under  Petit-Andre's  hands,  that  he  knows  how  to 
forgive  an  injury.'' 

So  saying,  and  summing  up  the  whole  with  a  provoking 
wink  and  such  an  intcrjectional  tchich  as  men  quicken  a  dull 
horse  with.  Petit- Andre  drew  off  to  the  other  side  of  the 
path,  and  left  the  youth  to  digest  the  ta,unts  he  had  treated 
him  with,  as  his  proud  Scottish  stomach  best  might.  A 
strong  desire  had  Quentin  to  have  belabored  him  while  the 
staff  of  his  lance  could  hold  together  ;  but  he  put  a  restraint 
on  his  passion,  recollecting  that  a  brawl  with  such  a  character 
could  be  creditable  at  no  time  or  place,  and  that  a  quarrel 
of  any  kind,  on  the  present  occasion,  would  be  a  breach  of 
duty,  and  might  involve  the  most  perilous  consequences. 
He  therefore  swallowed  his  wrath  at  the  ill-timed  and  pro- 
fessional jokes  of  Mons.  Petit- Andre,  and  contented  himself 
with  devoutly  hoping  that  they  had  not  reached  the  ears  of 
his  fair  charge,  on  which  they  could  not  be  supposed  to 
make  an  impression  in  favor  of  himself,  as  one  obnoxious  to 
such  sarcasms.  But  he  was  speedily  aroused  from  such 
thoughts  by  the  cry  of  both  the  ladies  at  once,  ''  Look  back 
— look  back  !  For  the  love  of  Heaven  look  to  yourself  and 
us  ;  we  are  pursued  ! " 

Quentin  hastily  looked  back,  and  saw  that  two  armed  men 
were  in  fact  following  them,  and  riding  at  such  a  pace  as 
must  soon  bring  them  up  with  their  party.  ''It  can,'^  he 
said,  "  be  only  some  of  the  provostry  making  their  rounds 


164  W AVE  RLE  Y  NOVELS 

in  the  forest.  Do  thou  look,"  he  said  to  Petit- Andre,  ''and 
Bee  what  they  may  be.'' 

Petit- Andr6  obeyed  ;  and  rolling  himself  jocosely  in  the 
saddle  after  he  had  made  his  observations,  replied,  *'  These, 
fair  sir,  are  neither  your  comrades  nor  mine — neither  archers 
nor  marshaFs-men  ;  for  I  think  they  wear  helmets,  with 
visors  lowered,  and  gorgets  of  the  same.  A  plague  upon 
these  gorgets,  of  all  other  pieces  of  armor  !  I  have  fumbled 
with  them  an  hour  before  I  could  undo  the  rivets.^' 

"  Do  you,  gracious  ladies,"  said  Durward,  without  attend- 
ing to  Petit- Andre,  '*  ride  forward,  not  so  fast  as  to  raise  an 
opinion  of  your  being  in  flight,  and  yet  fast  enough  to  avail 
yourselves  of  the  impediment  which  I  shall  presently  place 
between  you  and  these  men  who  follow  us." 

The  Countess  Isabelle  looked  to  their  guide,  and  then 
whispered  to  her  aunt,  who  spoke  to  Quentin  thus — *'  We 
have  confidence  in  your  care,  fair  archer,  and  will  rather 
abide  the  risk  of  whatever  may  chance  in  your  company  than 
we  will  go  onward  with  that  man,  whose  mein  is,  we  think, 
of  no  good  augury." 

''  Be  it  as  you  will,  ladies,"  said  the  youth.  ''  There  are 
but  two  who  come  after  us  ;  and  though  they  be  knights, 
as  their  arms  seem  to  show,  they  shall,  if  they  have  any 
evil  purpose,  learn  how  a  Scottish  gentleman  can  do  his 
devoir  in  the  presence  and  for  the  defense  of  such  as  you. 
Which  of  you  there,"  he  continued,  addressing  the  guards 
whom  he  commanded,  ''  is  willing  to  be  my  comrade,  and  to 
break  a  lance  with  these  gallants  ?  " 

Two  of  the  men,  obviously  faltered  in  resolution  ;  but  the 
third,  Bertrand  Guyot,  swore  ''  that  cap  de  Diou,  were  they 
knights  of  King  Artiiur's  Round  Table,  he  would  try  their 
mettle  for  the  honor  of  Gascony." 

While  he  spoke,  the  two  knights — for  they  seemed  of  no 
less  rank — came  up  with  the  rear  of  the  party,  in  which 
Quentin,  with  his  sturdy  adherent,  had  by  this  time  sta- 
tioned himself.  They  were  fully  accoutered  in  excellent 
armor  of  polished  steel,  without  any  device  by  which  they 
could  be  distinguished. 

One  of  them,  as  they  approached,  called  out  to  Quentin, 
"Sir  s(juire,  give  place  ;  we  come  to  relieve  you  of  a  charge 
which  IS  above  your  rank  and  condition.  You  will  do  well 
to  leave  these  ladies  in  our  care,  who  are  fitter  to  wait  upon 
them,  especially  as  we  know  that  in  yours  they  are  little 
better  than  captives. 

"  In  return  to  your  demands,   sirs,**  replied   Durward, 


QUENTIN  DllRWARD  166 

"  know,  in  the  first  place,  th^t  I  am  discharging  the  duty  im- 
posed upon  me  by  the  present  sovereign  ;  and  next,  that 
however  unworthy  I  may  be,  the  ladies  desire  to  abide  under 
my  protection." 

"  Out,  sirrah  !  "  exclaimed  one  of  the  champions  ;  "  will 
you,  a  wandering  beggar,  put  yourself  on  terms  of  resistance 
against  belted  knights  ?  " 

*'They  are  indeed  terms  of  resistance,"  said  Quentin, 
"  since  they  oppose  your  insolent  and  unlawful  aggression  : 
and  if  there  be  difference  of  rank  between  us,  which  as  yet 
I  know  not,  your  discourtesy  has  done  it  away.  Draw  your 
sword,  or,  if  you  will  use  the  lance,  take  ground  for  your 
career." 

While  the  knights  turned  their  horses  and  rode  back  to 
the  distance  of  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards,  Quentin, 
looking  to  the  ladies,  bent  low  on  his  saddle-bow,  as  if 
desiring  their  favorable  regard,  and  as  they  streamed  towards 
him  their  kerchiefs  in  token  of  encouragement,  the  two 
assailants  had  gained  the  distance  necessary  for  their  charge. 

Calling  to  the  Gascon  to  bear  himself  like  a  man,  Durward 
put  his  steed  into  motion  ;  and  the  four  horsemen  met  in  full 
career  in  the  midst  of  the  ground  which  at  first  separated 
them.  The  shock  was  fatal  to  the  poor  Gascon  ;  for  his  ad- 
versary, aiming  at  his  face,  which  was  undefended  by  a  visor, 
ran  him  through  the  eye  into  his  brain,  so  that  he  fell  dead 
from  his  horse. 

On  the  other  hand,  Quentin,  though  laboring  under  the 
same  disadvantage,  swayed  himself  in  the  saddle  so  dex- 
terously that  the  hostile  lance,  slightly  scratching  his  cheek, 
passed  over  his  right  shoulder  ;  while  his  own  spear,  striking 
his  antagonist  fair  upon  the  breast,  hurled  him  to  the  ground. 
Quentin  jumped  off,  to  unhelm  his  fallen  opponent ;  but  the 
other  knight,  who  had  never  yet  spoken,  seeing  the  misfor- 
tune of  his  companion,  dismounted  still  more  speedily  than 
Durward,  and  bestriding  his  friend,  who  lay  senseless,  ex- 
claimed, ''  In  the  name  of  God  and  St.  Martin,  mount,  good 
fellow,  and  get  thee  gone  with  thy  woman's  ware  !  Ventre 
St.  Gris,  they  have  caused  mischief  enough  this  morning." 

'*  By  your  leave,  sir  knight,"  said  Quentin,  who  could  not 
brook  the  menacing  tone  in  which  this  advice  was  given, 
*'  I  will  first  see  who  I  have  had  to  do  with,  and  learn  who  is 
to  answer  for  the  death  of  my  comrade." 

"  That  shalt  thou  never  live  to  know  or  tell,"  answered  the 
knight.  ''  Get  thee  back  in  peace,  good  fellow.  If  we  were 
fools  for  interrupting  your  passage,  we  have  had  the  worst, 


166  WAVERLEY  NOVELS. 

for  thou  hast  done  more  evil  than  the  liv^es  of  thou  and  thy 
whole  band  could  repay.  Nay,  if  thou  wilt  have  it  (for 
Quentin  now  drew  his  sword  and  advanced  on  him),  take  it 
with  vengeance  ! " 

So  saying,  he  dealt  the  Scot  such  a  blow  on  the  helmet  aa 
till  that  moment,  though  bred  where  good  blows  were  plenty, 
he  had  only  read  of  in  romance.  It  descended  like  a  thunder- 
bolt, beating  down  the  guard  which  the  young  soldier  had 
raised  to  protect  his  head,  and  reaching  his  helmet  of  proof, 
cut  it  through  so  far  as  to  touch  his  hair,  but  without  far- 
ther injury  ;  while  Durward,  dizzy,  stunned,  and  beaten  down 
upon  one  knee,  was  for  an  instant  at  the  mercy  of  the  knight, 
had  it  pleased  him  to  second  his  blow.  But  compassion  for 
Quentin^s  youth,  or  admiration  of  his  courage,  or  a  generous 
love  of  fair  play,  made  him  withhold  from  taking  such  ad- 
vantage ;  while  Durward,  collecting  himself,  sprung  up  and 
attacked  his  antagonist  with  the  energy  of  one  determined 
to  conquer  or  die,  and  at  the  same  time  with  the  presence  of 
mind  necessary  for  fighting  the  quarrel  out  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage. Resolved  not  again  to  expose  himself  to  such 
dreadful  blows  as  he  had  just  sustained,  he  employed  the 
advantage  of  superior  agility,  increased  by  the  comparative 
lightness  of  his  armor,  to  harass  his  antagonist,  by  traversing 
on  all  sides,  with  a  suddenness  of  motion  and  rapidity  of 
attack  against  which  the  knight,  in  his  heavy  panoply,  found 
it  difficult  to  defend  himself  without  much  fatigue. 

It  was  in  vain  that  this  generous  antagonist  called  aloud 
to  Quentin,  '*  That  there  now  remained  no  cause  of  fight  be- 
twixt them,  and  that  he  was  loth  to  be  constrained  to  do  him 
injury.^'  Listening  only  to  the  suggestions  of  a  passionate 
wish  to  redeem  the  shame  of  his  temporary  defeat,  Durward 
continued  to  assail  him  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning — now 
menacing  him  with  the  edge,  now  with  the  point  of  his 
sword  ;  and  ever  keeping  such  an  eye  on  the  motions  of  hia 
opponent,  of  whose  superior  strength  he  had  had  terrible 
proof,  that  he  was  ready  to  spring  backward,  or  aside,  from 
under  the  blows  of  his  tremendous  weapon. 

'^  Now  the  devil  be  with  thee  for  an  obstinate  and  pre-j 
sumptuous  fool,''  muttered  the  knight,  '^that  cannot  bej 
quiet  till  thou  art  knocked  on  the  head  !''  So  saying,  he] 
changed  his  mode  of  fighting,  collected  himself  as  if  to  stand] 
on  the  defensive,  and  seemed  contented  with  parrying,  in-j 
stead  of  returning,  the  blows  which  Quentin  unceasingly  I 
aimed  at  him,  with  the  internal  resolution  that,  the  instant! 
when  either  loss  of  breath  or  any  false  or  careless  pass  of  thtl 


Q  UEN  TIN  D  UR  WA  RD  167 

young  soldier  should  give  an  opening,  lie  would  put  an  end 
to  the  fight  by  a  single  blow.  It  is  likely  he  might  have 
succeeded  in  this  artful  policy,  but  Fate  had  ordered  it 
otherwise. 

The  duel  was  still  at  the  hottest,  when  a  large  party  of 
horse  rode  up,  crying,  "  Hold,  in  the  King's  name  ! ''  Both 
champions  stepped  back  ;  and  Quentin  saw  with  surprise 
that  his  captain.  Lord  Crawford,  was  at  the  head  of  the 
party  who  had  thus  interrupted  their  combat.  There  was 
also  Tristan  FHermite,  with  two  or  three  of  his  followers  | 
making,  in  all,  perhaps,  twenty  horse. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  GUIDE 

He  was  a  son  of  Egypt,  as  he  told  me, 
And  one  descended  from  those  dread  magicians, 
Who  waged  rash  war,  when  Israel  dwelt  in  Goshen 
With  Israel  and  her  Proi)het — matching  rod 
With  his  the  sons  of  Levi's — and  encountering 
Jehovah's  miracles  with  incantations, 
Till  upon  Egypt  came  the  avenging  angel. 
And  those  ]  I'oud  sages  wept  for  their  first-born, 
As  wept  th(  unletter'd  peasant. 

Anonymous. 

The  arrival  of  Lord  Crawford  and  his  guard  put  an  imme- 
diate end  to  the  engagement  which  we  endeavored  to 
describe  in  the  last  chapter  ;  and  the  knight,  throwing  off 
his  helmet,  hastily  gave  the  old  lord  his  sword,  saying, 
**  Crawford,  I  render  myself.  But  hither,  and  lend  me  your 
ear — a  word,  for  God's  sake — save  the  Duke  of  Orleans  ! " 

"How  !  What  ?  the  Duke  of  Orleans  I"  exclaimed  the 
Scottish  commander.  '*  How  came  this,  in  the  name  of  the 
foul  fiend  ?  It  will  ruin  the  callant  with  the  King  forever 
and  a  day.*' 

**  Ask  no  question,^'  said  Dunois, ''  for  it  was  no  other  than 
he  ;  it  was  all  my  fault.  See,  he  stirs.  I  came  forth  but 
to  have  a  snatch  at  yonder  damsel,  and  make  myself  a  landed 
and  a  married  man,  and  see  what  is  come  on't.  Keep  back 
your  canaille  ;  let  no  man  look  upon  him.''  So  saying,  he 
opened  the  visor  of  Orleans,  and  threw  water  on  his  face, 
which  was  afforded  by  the  neighboring  lake. 

Quentin  Durward,  meanwhile,  stood  like  one  planet- 
struck,  so  fast  did  new  adventures  pour  in  upon  him.  Hej 
had  now,  as  the  pale  features  of  his  first  antagonist  assured.] 
him,  borne  to  the  earth  the  first  prince  of  the  blood  in 
France,  and  had  measured  swords  with  her  best  champion,^ 
the  celebrated  Dunois — both  of  them  achievements  honorable) 
in  themselves,  but  whether  they  might  be  called  good  serv-j 
ice  to  the  King,  or  so  esteemed  by  him,  was  a  very  different] 
question. 

The  Duke  had  now  recovered  his  breath,  and  was  able  to] 

168 


qUENTIN  DUliWARD  M 

sit  up  and  give  attention  to  what  passed  betwixt  Dunois  and 
Crawford,  while  the  former  pleaded  eagerly  that  there  was 
no  occasion  to  mention  in  the  matter  the  name  of  the  most 
noble  Orleans,  while  he  was  ready  to  take  the  whole  blame 
on  his  own  shoulders,  and  to  avouch  that  the  duke  had  only 
come  thither  in  friendship  to  him. 

Lord  Crawford  continued  listening,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  ground,  and  from  time  to  time  he  sighed  and  shook  his 
head.  At  length  he  said,  looking  up,  "  Thou  knowest, 
Dunois,  that  for  thy  father's  sake,  as  well  as  thine  own,  I 
would  full  fain  do  thee  a  service." 

*^^It  is  not  for  myself  I  demand  anything/'  answered 
Dunois.  ''  Thou  hast  my  sword,  and  I  am  your  prisoner  ; 
what  needs  more  ?  But  it  is  for  this  noble  prince,  the  only 
hope  of  France,  if  God  should  call  the  Dauphin.  He  only 
came  hither  to  do  me  a  favor — in  an  effort  to  make  my  for- 
tune— in  a  matter  which  the  King  had  partly  encouraged.'* 

'' Dunois,"  replied  Crawford,  *' if  another  had  told  me 
thou  hadst  brought  the  noble  prince  into  this  jeopardy  to 
serve  any  purpose  of  thine  own,  I  had  told  him  it  was  false. 
And  now  that  thou  dost  pretend  so  thyself,  I  can  hardly  be- 
lieve it  is  for  the  sake  of  speaking  the  truth." 

''  Noble  Crawford,"  said  Orleans,  who  had  now  entirely 
recovered  from  his  swoon,  *'you  are  too  like  in  character  to 
your  friend  Dunois  not  to  do  him  justice.  It  was  indeed  I 
that  dragged  him  hither,  most  unwillingly,  upon  an  enter- 
prise of  hare-brained  passion,  suddenly  and  rashly  under- 
taken. Look  on  me  all  who  will,"  he  added,  rising  up  and 
turning  to  the  soldier}'^  ;  **  I  am  Louis  of  Orleans,  willing  to 
pay  the  penalty  of  my  own  folly.  I  trust  the  King  will  limit 
his  displeasure  to  me,  as  is  but  just.  Meanwhile,  as  a  child 
of  France  must  not  give  up  his  sword  to  any  one — not  even 
to  you,  brave  Crawford — fare  thee  well,  good  steel." 

So  saying,  he  drew  his  sword  from  its  scabbard  and  flung 
it  into  "the  lake.  It  went  through  the  air  like  a  stream  of 
lightning,  and  sunk  in  the  flashing  waters,  which  speedily 
closed  over  it.  All  remained  standing  in  irresolution  and 
astonishment,  so  high  was  the  rank,  and  so  much  esteemed 
was  the  character,  of  the  culprit ;  while,  at  the  same  time, 
all  were  conscious  that  the  consequences  of  his  rash  enter- 
prise, considering  the  views  which  the  King  had  upon  him, 
were  likely  to  end  in  his  utter  ruin. 

Dunois  was  the  first  who  spoke,  and  it  was  in  the  chiding 
tone  of  an  offended  and  distrusted  friend  ;  "  So  !  your  High- 
ness hath  judged  it  fit  to  cast  away  your  best  sword,  in  th§ 


170 


WAVERLET  NOVELS 


same  morning  when  it  was  your  pleasure  to  fling  away  the 
King^s  favor  and  to  slight  the  friendship  of  Dunois  ? '" 

'*  My  dearest  kinsman/^  said  the  duke,  '^  when  or  how  we 
it  in  my  purpose  to  slight  your  friendship,  by  telling  thel 
truth,  when  it  was  due  to  your  safety  and  my  honor  ?  ^' 

''What  had  you  to  do  with  my  safety  my  most  princely' 
cousin,  I  would  pray  to  know  ?  "  answered  Dunois,  gruffly. 
*'  What,  in  God's  name,  was  it  to  you  if  I  had  a  mind  to 
be  hanged,  or  strangled,  or  flung  into  the  Loire,  or  poniarded, 
or  broken  on  the  wheel,  or  hung  up  alive  in  an  iron  cage,  or 
buried  alive  in  a  castle  fosse,  or  disposed  of  in  any  other 
way  in  which  it  might  please  King  Louis  to  get  rid  of  his 
faithful  subject  ?  You  need  not  wink  and  frown,  and  point 
to  Tristan  FHermite ;  I  see  the  scoundrel  as  well  as  you  do. 
But  it  would  not  have  stood  so  hard  with  me.  And  so  much 
for  my  safety.  And  then  for  your  own  honor — by  the  blush 
of  St.  Magdalene,  I  think  the  honor  would  have  been  to  have 
missed  this  morning's  work,  or  kept  it  out  of  sight.  Here 
has  your  Highness  got  yourself  unhorsed  by  a  wild  Scottish 
boy." 

"Tut — tut!''  said  Lord  Crawford;  "never  shame  his 
Highness  for  that.  It  is  not  the  first  time  a  Scottish  boy 
hath  broke  a  good  lance.  I  am  glad  the  youth  hath  borne 
him  well." 

"I  will  say  nothing  on  the  contrary,"  said  Dunois  ;  "yet, 
had  your  lordship  come  something  later  than  you  did,  there 
might  have  been  a  vacancy  in  yonr  band  of  archers." 

"Ay — ay,"  answered  Lord  Crawford;  "I  can  read  your 
handwriting  in  that  cleft  morion.  Some  one  take  it  from 
the  lad,  and  give  him  a  bonnet,  which,  with  its  steel  lining, 
will  keep  his  head  better  than  that  broken  loom.  And  let 
me  tell  your  lordship,  that  your  own  armor  of  proof  is  not 
without  some  marks  of  good  Scottish  handwriting.  But, 
Dunois,  I  must  now  request  the  Duke  of  Orleans  and  you  to 
take  horse  and  accompany  me,  as  I  have  power  and  com- 
mission to  convey  you  to  a  place  different  from  that  which 
my  good-will  might  assign  you." 

"  May  I  not  speak  one  word,  my  Lord  of  Crawford,  to 
yonder  fair  ladies  ?  "  said  the  Duke  of  Orleans. 

"  Not  one  syllable,"  answered  Lord  Crawford  ;  "  I  am  to< 
much  a  friend  of  your  Highness  to  permit  such  an  act  ol 
folly."  Then  addressing  Quentin,  he  added,  "You,  youn^ 
man,  have  done  your  duty.  Go  on  to  obey  the  charge  witl 
which  you  are  entrusted." 

"Under  favor,  my  lord,"  said  Tristan,  with  his  usui 


QUENTIN  BUBWABD  171 

brutality  of  manner,  '^ihe  youth  must  find  another  guide. 
I  cannot  do  without  Petit- Andre  when  there  is  so  like  to  be 
business  on  hand  for  him/' 

^^The  young  man,"  said  Petit-Andre,  now  coming  for- 
ward, "  has  only  to  keep  the  path  which  lies  straight  before 
him,  and  it  will  conduct  him  to  a  place  where  he  will  find 
the  man  who  is  to  act  as  his  guide.  I  would  not  for  a  thou- 
sand ducats  be  absent  from  my  chief  this  day  !  I  have  hanged 
knights  and  squires  many  a  one,  and  wealthy  echevins,  and 
burgomasters   to   boot — even    counts   and   marquisses   have 

tasted  of  my  handiwork  but,  a-humph '^     He  looked  at 

the  duke,  as  if  to  intimate  that  he  would  have  filled  up  the 
blank  with  '^  a  prince  of  blood  ! "  "  Ho,  ho,  ho  !  Petit- 
Andre,  thou  wilt  be  read  of  in  chronicle  ! " 

"  Do  you  permit  your  ruffians  to  hold  such  language  in 
such  a  presence  ? ""  said  Crawford,  looking  sternly  to  Tristan. 

^'Why  do  you  not  correct  him  yourself,  my  lord  ^"  said 
Tristan,  sullenly. 

* '  Because  thy  hand  is  the  only  one  in  this  company  that 
can  beat  him  without  being  degraded  by  such  an  action." 

"  Then  rule  your  own  men,  my  lord,  and  I  will  be  answer- 
able for  mine,"  said  the  provost-marshal. 

Lord  Crawford  seemed  about  to  give  a  passionate  reply  ; 
but,  as  if  he  had  thought  better  of  it,  turned  his  back  short 
upon  Tristan,  and  requesting  the  Duke  of  Orleans  and 
Dunois  to  ride  one  on  either  hand  of  him,  he  made  a  signal 
of  adieu  to  the  ladies,  and  said  to  Quentin,  "  God  bless  thee, 
my  child  ;  thou  hast  begun  thy  service  valiantly,  though  in 
an  unhappy  cause."  He  was  about  to  go  off,  when  Quentin 
could  hear  Dunois  whisper  to  Crawford,  ''  Do  you  carry  ug 
toPlessis?" 

'"No,  my  unhappy  and  rash  friend,"  answered  Crawford, 
with  a  sigh,  '*  to  Loches." 

"  To  Loches  ! "  The  name  of  a  castle,  or  rather  a  prison, 
yet  more  dreaded  than  Plessis  itself,  fell  like  a  death-toll  upon 
the  ear  of  the  young  Scotchman.  He  had  heard  it  described 
as  a  place  destined  to  the  workings  of  those  secret  acts  of 
cruelty  with  which  even  Louis  shamed  to  pollute  the  interior 
of  his  own  residence.  There  were  in  this  place  of  terror 
dungeons  under  dungeons,  some  of  them  unknown  even  to 
the  keepers  themselves — living  graves,  to  which  men  were 
consigned  with  little  hope  of  farther  employment  during  the 
rest  of  their  life  than  to  breathe  impure  air  and  feed  on  bread 
and  water.  At  this  formidable  castle  were  also  those  dread- 
f  ulplaces  of  confinement  called '  ^cages,"  in  which  the  wretched 


173  WA  VER  LE  Y  NO  VELS 

prisoners  could  neither  stand  upright  nor  stretch  himself  at 
length — an  invention,  it  is  said,  of  the  Cardinal  Balue.*  It 
is  no  wonder  that  the  name  of  this  place  of  horrors,  and  the 
consciousness  that  he  had  been  partly  the  means  of  de- 
spatching thither  two  such  illustrious  victims,  struck  so 
much  sadness  into  the  heart  of  the  young  Scot  that  he 
rode  for  some  time  with  his  head  dejected,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  ground,  and  his  heart  filled  with  the  most  painful 
reflections. 

As  he  was  now  again  at  the  head  of  the  little  troop,  and 
pursuing  the  road  which  had  been  pointed  out  to  him,  the 
Lady  Hameline  had  an  opportunity  to  say  to  him — 

*^  Methinks,  fair  sir,  you  regret  the  victory  which  your 
gallantry  has  attained  in  our  behalf  ?  " 

There  was  something  in  the  question  which  sounded  like 
irony,  but  Quentin  had  tact  enough  to  answer  simply  and 
with  sincerity — 

^'1  can  regret  nothing  that  is  done  in  the  service  of  such 
ladies  as  you  are  ;  but,  methinks,  had  it  consisted  with  your 
safety,  I  had  rather  fallen  by  the  sword  of  so  good  a  soldier 
as  Dunois  than  have  been  the  means  of  consigning  that  re- 
nowned knight  and  his  unhappy  chief,  the  Duke  of  Orleans, 
to  yonder  fearful  dungeons/^ 

'*  It  was,  then,  the  Duke  of  Orleans,"  said  the  elder  lady, 
burning  to  her  niece.  *'  I  thought  so,  even  at  the  distance 
from  which  we  beheld  the  fray.  You  see,  kinswoman,  what 
we  might  have  been,  had  this  sly  and  avaricious  monarch 
permitted  us  to  be  seen  at  his  court.  The  first  prince  of  the 
blood  of  France,  and  the  valiant  Dunois,  whose  name  is 
known  as  wide  as  that  of  his  heroic  father  !  This  young 
gentleman  did  his  devoir  bravely  and  well  ;  but  methinks  "'tis 
pity  that  he  did  not  succumb  with  honor,  since  his  ill-advised 
gallantry  has  stood  betwixt  us  and  these  princely  rescuers."' 

The  Countess  Isabelle  replied  in  a  firm  and  almost  a  dis- 
pleased tone,  with  an  energy,  in  short,  which  Quentin  had 
not  yet  observed  her  use. 

"  Madam,"  she  said,  ''  but  that  I  know  you  jest,  I  would 
say  your  speech  is  ungrateful  to  our  brave  defender,  to  whom 
we  owe  more,  perhaps,  than  you  are  aware  of.  Had  these 
gentlemen  succeeded  so  far  in  their  rash  enterprise  as  to 
have  defeated  our  escort,  is  it  not  still  evident  that,  on  the 
arrival  of  the  Royal  Guard,  we  must  have  shared  their  cap- 
tivity ?     For  my  own  part,  I  give  tears,  and  will  soon  bestow 

*  Who  himself  tenanted  one  of  these  dens  for  more  than  eleven 
^ears. 


qUENTtN  DtlRWARD  173 

masses,  on  the  brave  man  who  has  fallen,  and,  I  trust/'  she 
continued,  more  timidly,  '*  that  he  who  lives  will  accept  my 
grateful  thanks/' 

As  Quentin  turned  his  face  towards  her,  to  return  the  fit- 
ting acknowledgments,  she  saw  the  blood  which  streamed 
down  on  one  side  of  his  face,  and  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  of 
deep  feeling,  '*'  Holy  Virgin,  he  is  wounded  !  he  bleeds  ! 
Dismount,  sir,  and  let  your  wound  be  bound  up/' 

In  spite  of  all  that  Durward  could  say  of  the  slightness  of 
his  liurt,  he  was  compelled  to  dismount,  and  to  seat  himself 
on  a  bank  and  unhelmet  himself,  while  the  Ladies  of  Croye, 
who,  according  to  a  fashion  not  as  yet  antiquated,  pretended 
to  some  knowledge  of  leechcraf t,  washed  the  wound,  stanched 
the  blood,  and  bound  it  with  the  kerchief  of  the  younger 
countess,  in  order  to  exclude  the  air,  for  so  their  practice 
prescribed. 

In  modern  times,  gallants  seldom  or  never  take  wounds 
for  ladies'  sake,  and  damsels  on  their  side  never  meddle  with 
the  cure  of  wounds.  Each  has  a  danger  the  less.  That 
which  the  men  escape  will  be  generally  acknowledged  ;  but 
the  peril  of  dressing  such  a  slight  wound  as  that  of  Quen- 
tin's,  which  involved  nothing  formidable  or  dangerous,  was 
perhaps  as  real  in  its  way  as  the  risk  of  encountering  it. 

We  have  already  said  the  patient  was  eminently  handsome  ; 
and  the  removal  of  his  helmet,  or,  more  properly,  of  his 
morion,  had  suffered  his  fair  locks  to  escape  in  profusion 
around  a  countenance  in  which  the  hilarity  of  youth  was 
qualified  by  a  blush  of  modesty  at  once  anr?  pleasure.  And 
then  the  feelings  of  the  younger  countess,  when  compelled 
to  hold  the  kerchief  to  the  wound,  while  her  aunt  sought  in 
their  baggage  for  some  vulnerary  remedy,  were  mingled  at 
once  with  a  sense  of  delicacy  and  embarrassment — a  thrill  of 
pity  for  the  patient  and  of  gratitude  for  his  services,  which 
exaggerated,  in  her  eyes,  his  good  mien  and  handsome  fea- 
tures. In  short,  this  incident  seemed  intended  by  Fate  to 
complete  the  mysterious  communication  which  she  had,  by 
many  petty  and  apparently  accidental  circumstances,  es- 
tablished betwixt  two  persons  who,  though  far  different  in 
rank  and  fortune,  strongly  resembled  each  other  in  youth, 
beauty,  and  the  romantic  tenderness  of  an  affectionate  dis- 
position. It  was  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  from  this 
moment  the  thoughts  of  the  Countess  Isabelle,  already  so 
familiar  to  his  imagination,  should  become  paramount  in 
Quentin's  bosom,  nor  that,  if  the  maiden's  feelings  were  of  a 
less  decided  character,  at  least  so  far  as  known  to  herself. 


174 


WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 


she  should  think  of  her  young  defender,  to  whom  she  hj 
just  rended  a  service  so  interesting,  with  more  emotion  thai 
of  any  of  the  whole  band  of  high-born  nobles  who  had  foi 
two  years  past  besieged  her  with  their  adoration.  Above  all, 
when  the  thought  of  Campobasso,  the  unworthy  favorite  ol 
Duke  Charles,  with  his  hypocritical  mien,  his  base,  treach| 
erous  spirit,  his  wry  neck,  and  his  squint,  occurred  to  her! 
his  portrait  was  more  disgustingly  hideous  than  ever,  anc 
deeply  did  she  resolve  no  tyranny  should  make  her  enter  into 
so  hateful  a  union. 

In  the  meantime,  whether  the  good  Lady  Hameline  of 
Croye  understood  and  admired  masculine  beauty  as  much  as 
when  she  was  fifteen  years  younger  (for  the  good  countess 
was  at  least  thirty-five,  if  the  records  of  that  noble  house 
speak  the  truth),  or  whether  she  thought  she  had  done  their 
young  protector  less  justice  than  she  ought,  in  the  first  view 
which  she  had  taken  of  his  services,  it  is  certain  that  he 
began  to  find  favor  in  her  eyes. 

''My  niece,'' she  said,  ''has  bestowed  on  you  a  kerchief 
for  the  binding  of  your  wound  ;  I  will  give  you  one  to  grace 
your  gallantry,  and  to  encourage  you  in  your  farther  progress 
m  chivalry.'' 

So  saying,  she  gave  him  a  richly  embroidered  kerchief  of 
blue  and  silver,  and  pointing  to  the  housing  of  her  palfrey 
and  the  plumes  in  her  riding-cap,  desired  him  to  observe  that 
the  colors  were  the  same. 

The  fashion  of  the  time  prescribed  one  absolute  mode  of 
receiving  such  a  favor,  which  Quentin  followed  accordingly, 
by  tying  the  napkin  round  his  arm  ;  yet  his  manner  of 
acknowledgment  had  more  of  awkwardness  and  less  of 
gallantry  in  it  than  perhaps  it  might  have  had  at  another 
time  and  in  another  presence  ;  for  though  the  wearing  of  a 
lady's  favor,  given  in  such  a  manner,  was  merely  matter  of 
general  compliment,  he  would  much  rather  have  preferr(  " 
the  right  of  displaying  on  his  arm  that  which  bound  th4 
wound  inflicted  by  the  sword  of  Dunois. 

Meantime,  they  continued  their  pilgrimage,  Quentin  no^ 
riding  abreast  of  the  ladies,  into  whose  society  he  seemed  t< 
be  tacitly  adopted.  He  did  not  speak  much,  however,  bein^ 
filled  by  the  silent  consciousness  of  happiness,  which  is  afraic 
of  giving  too  strong  vent  to  its  feelings.  The  Countej 
Isabelle  spoke  still  less,  so  that  the  conversation  was  chiefly 
carried  on  by  the  Lady  Hameline,  who  showed  no  inclinatioi 
fe)  let  it  drop  ;  for,  to  initiate  the  young  archer,  as  she  saic" 
into  the  principles  and  practice  of  chivalry,  she  detailed 


Q  UENTIN  D  UR  WABB  175 

him,  at  full  length,  the  passage  of  arms  at  Haflinghem,  where 
she  had  distributed  the  prizes  among  the  victors. 

Not  much  interested,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  in  the  description 
of  this  splendid  scene,  or  in  the  heraldic  bearings  of  the 
different  Flemish  and  German  knights,  which  the  lady 
blazoned  with  pitiless  accuracy,  Quentin  began  to  entertain 
some  alarm  lest  he  should  have  passed  the  place  where  his 
guide  was  to  join  him — a  most  serious  disaster,  and  from 
which,  should  it  really  have  taken  place,  the  very  worst 
consequences  were  to  be  apprehended. 

While  he  hesitated  whether  it  would  be  better  to  send  back 
one  of  his  followers  to  see  whether  this  might  not  be  the 
case,  he  heard  the  blast  of  a  horn,  and  looking  in  the  direction 
from  which  the  sound  came,  beheld  a  horseman  riding  very 
fast  towards  them.  The  low  size  and  wild,  shaggy,  untrained 
state  of  the  animal  reminded  Quentin  of  the  mountain  breed 
of  horses  in  his  own  country  ;  but  this  was  much  more  finely 
limbed,  and,  with  the  same  appearance  of  hardiness,  was 
more  rapid  in  its  movements.  The  head  particularly,  which 
in  the  Scottish  pony  is  often  lumpish  and  heavy,  was  small 
and  well  placed  in  the  neck  of  this  animal,  with  thin  jaws, 
full  sparkling  eyes,  and  expanded  nostrils. 

The  rider  was  even  more  singular  in  his  appearance  than 
the  horse  which  he  rode,  though  that  was  extremely  unlike 
the  horses  of  France.  Although  he  managed  his  palfrey  with 
great  dexterity,  he  sat  with  his  feet  in  broad  stirrups,  some- 
thing resembling  shovels,  so  short  in  the  leathers  that  his 
knees  were  wellnigh  as  high  as  the  pommel  of  his  saddle. 
His  dress  was  a  red  turban  of  small  size,  in  which  he  wore  a 
sullied  plume,  secured  by  a  clasp  of  silver  ;  his  tunic,  which 
was  shaped  like  those  of  the  Estradiots — a  sort  of  troops 
whom  the  Venetians  at  that  time  levied  in  the  provinces  on 
the  eastern  side  of  their  gulf — was  green  in  color  and 
tawdrily  laced  with  gold  ;  he  wore  very  wide  drawers  or 
trowsers  of  white,  though  none  of  the  cleanest,  which  gathered 
beneath  the  knee,  and  his  swarthy  legs  were  quite  bare,  un- 
less for  the  complicated  laces  which  bound  a  pair  of  sandals 
on  his  feet ;  he  had  no  spurs,  the  edge  of  his  large  stirrups 
being  so  sharp  as  to  serve  to  goad  the  horse  in  a  very  severe 
manner.  In  a  crimson  sash  this  singular  horseman  wore  a 
dagger  on  the  right  side,  and  on  the  left  a  short  crooked 
Moorish  sword  ;  and  by  a  tarnished  baldric  over  the  shoulder 
hung  the  horn  which  announced  his  approach.  He  had  a 
swarthy  and  sunburnt  visage,  with  a  thin  beard,  and  piercing 
dark  eyes,  a  well-formed  mouth  and  nose,  and  other  feature* 


m 


WA  VERLET  NO  VEL  S 


which  might  have  been  pronounced  handsome,  but  for  the 
black  elf-locks  which  hung  around  his  face,  and  the  air  of 
wildness  and  emaciation,  which  rather  seemed  to  indicate  a 
savage  than  a  civilized  man. 

"  He  also  is  a  Bohemian  \"  said  the  ladies  to  each  other. 
''  Holy  Mary,  will  the  King  again  place  confidence  in  these 
outcasts  ?  '* 

*'Iwill  question  the  man,  if  it  be  your  pleasure, '^  said 
Quentin,  '^  and  assure  myself  of  his  fidelity  as  I  best  may." 

Durward,  as  well  as  the  Ladies  of  Oroye,  had  recognized 
in  this  man's  dress  and  appearance  the  habit  and  the  man- 
ners of  those  vagrants  with  whom  he  had  nearly  been  con- 
founded by  the  hasty  proceedings  of  Trois-Eschelles  and 
Petit- Andre,  and  he,  too,  entertained  very  natural  apprehen- 
sions concerning  the  risk  of  reposing  trust  in  one  of  that 
vagrant  race. 

"  Art  thou  come  hither  to  seek  us  ?  "  was  his  first  question. 

The  stranger  nodded. 

"  And  for  what  purpose  ?  " 

"  To  guide  you  to  the  palace  of  him  of  Liege." 

''Of  the  bishop?" 

The  Bohemian  again  nodded. 

"  What  token  canst  thou  give  me  that  we  should  yield 
credence  to  thee  ?  " 

''  Even  the  old  rhyme,  and  no  other,"  answered  the  Bo- 
hemian— 

**  The  page  slew  the  boar, 
The  peer  had  the  gloire." 

**  A  true  token,"  said  Quentin.  ''  Lead  on,  good  fellow  ; 
I  will  speak  further  with  thee  presently."  Then  falling 
back  to  the  ladies,  he  said,  *'  I  am  convinced  this  man  is  the 

fuide  we  are  to  expect,  for  he  hath  brought  me  a  password 
nown,  I  think,  but  to  the  King  and  me.  But  I  will  dis- 
course with  him  further,  and  endeavor  to  ascertain  how  far 
he  is  to  be  trusted/' 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE    VAGRANT 

I  am  as  free  as  Nature  first  made  man, 
Ere  the  base  laws  of  servitude  began, 
When  wild  in  woods  the  noble  savage  ran. 

The  Conquest  of  Oranada, 

While  Quentin  held  the  brief  communication  with  the 
ladies  necessary  to  assure  them  that  this  extraordinary  addi- 
tion to  their  party  was  the  guide  whom  they  were  to  expect 
on  the  King's  part,  he  noticed,  for  he  was  as  alert  in  observ- 
ing the  motions  of  the  stranger  as  the  Bohemian  could  be  on 
his  part,  that  the  man  not  only  turned  his  head  as  far  back 
as  he  could  to  peer  at  them,  but  that,  with  a  singular  sort 
of  agility  more  resembling  that  of  a  monkey  than  of  a  man, 
he  had  screwed  his  whole  person  around  on  the  saddle,  so  as 
to  sit  almost  side-long  upon  the  horse,  for  the  convenience, 
as  it  seemed,  of  watching  them  more  attentively. 

Not  greatly  pleased  with  this  maneuver,  Quentin  rode  up 
to  the  Bohemian,  and  said  to  him,  as  he  suddenly  assumed 
his  proper  position  on  the  horse,  "  Methinks,  friend,  you 
will  prove  but  a  blind  guide  if  you  look  at  the  tail  of  your 
horse  rather  than  his  ears." 

"  And  if  I  were  actually  blind,''  answered  the  Bohemian, 
''I  could  not  the  less  guide  you  through  any  county  in  this 
realm  of  France  or  in  those  adjoining  to  it." 

*' Yet  you  are  no  Frenchman  born,"  said  the  Scot. 

"  I  am  not,"  answered  the  guide. 

"  What  countryman,  then,  are  you  ?  "  demanded  Quentin. 

"  I  am  of  no  country,"  answered  the  guide. 

'^  How  !  of  no  country  ?"  repeated  the  Scot. 

''No,"  answered  the  Bohemian,  ''of  none.  I  am  a  Zin- 
garo,  a  Bohemian,  an  Eygptian,  or  whatever  the  Europeans, 
in  their  different  languages,  may  choose  to  call  our  people ; 
but  I  have  no  country." 

"  Are  you  a  Christian  ?  "  asked  the  Scotchman. 

The  Bohemian  shook  his  head. 

"  Dog  ! "  said  Quentin,  for  there  was  little  toleration  in 

12  ,\n 


178  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

the  spirit  of   Catholicism  in  those  days,  *'  dost  thou  worship 
Mahound  ?  " 

"  No/'  was  the  indifferent  and  concise  answer  of  the 
guide,  who  neither  seemed  offended  or  surprised  at  the  young 
man's  violence  of  manner. 

*'  Are  you  a  pagan,  then,  or  what  are  you  ?" 

"I  have  no  religion,"* answered  the  Bohemian. 

Durward  started  back  ;  for,  though  he  had  heard  of  Sar- 
acens and  idolaters,  it  had  never  entered  into  his  ideas  or 
belief  that  any  body  of  men  could  exist  who  practised  no  mode 
of  worship  whatever.  He  recovered  from  his  astonishment, 
to  ask  his  guide  where  he  usually  dwelt. 

"  Wherever  I  chance  to  be  for  the  time,"  replied  the  Bo- 
hemian.    I  have  no  home." 

"  How  do  you  guard  your  property  ?" 

**  Excepting  the  clothes  which  I  wear  and  the  horse  I  ride 
on,  I  have  no  property." 

"  Yet  you  dress  gaily  and  ride  gallantly,"  said  Durward. 
''What  are  your  means  of  subsistence  ?" 

''  I  eat  when  I  am  hungry,  drink  when  I  am  thirsty,  and 
have  no  other  means  of  subsistence  than  chance  throws  in  my 
way,"  replied  the  vagabond. 

''Under  whose  laws  do  you  live  ?" 

"I  acknowledge  obedience  to  none,  but  as  it  suits  my 
pleasure  or  my  necessities,"  said  the  Bohemian. 

"  Who  is  your  leader,  and  commands  you  ? 

'^  The  father  of  our  tribe,  if  I  choose  to  obey  him,"  said 
the  guide  ;  "  otherwise  I  have  no  commander." 

"  You  are  then,"  said  the  wondering  querist,  "  destitute 
of  all  that  other  men  are  combined  by  :  you  have  no  law, 
no  leader,  no  settled  means  of  subsistence,  no  house  or  home. 
You  have,  may  Heaven  compassionate  you,  no  country  ;  and 
may  Heaven  enlighten  and  forgive  you,  you  have  no  God  ! 
What  is  it  that  remains  to  you,  deprived  of  government,  do- 
mestic happiness,  and  religion  ?  "  "I  have  liberty,"  said  the 
Bohemian.  "I  crouch  to  no  one — obey  no  one — respect  no 
one.  I  go  where  I  will — live  as  I  can — and  die  when  my 
day  comes." 

"  But  you  are  subject  to  instant  execution,  at  the  pleas- 
ure of  the  judge  ?" 

"  Be  it  so,"  returned  the  Bohemian ;  "  I  can  but  die  so 
much  the  sooner." 

"  And  to  imprisonment  also,"  said  the  Scot ;  "  and  where 
then  is  your  boasted  freedom  ?  " 

*  See  Religion  of  the  Bohemians.    Note  26, 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  179 

"  In  my  thoughts,"  said  the  Bohemian,  *'  which  no  chains 
can  bind  ;  while  yours,  even  when  your  limbs  are  free,  re- 
main fettered  by  your  laws  and  your  superstitions,  your 
dreams  of  local  attachment  and  your  fantastic  visions  of 
civil  policy.  Such  as  I  are  free  in  spirit  when  our  limbs  are 
chained.  You  are  imprisoned  in  mind,  even  when  your 
limbs  are  most  at  freedom." 

"Yet  the  freedom  of  your  thoughts,"  said  the  Scot, 
**  relieves   not  the  pressure  of  the  gyves  on  your  limbs." 

"  For  a  brief  time  that  may  be  endured,"  answered  the 
vagrant ;  "  and  if  within  that  period  I  cannot  extricate  myself 
and  fail  of  relief  from  my  comrades,  I  can  always  die,  and 
death  is  the  most  perfect  freedom  of  all." 

There  was  a  deep  pause  of  some  duration,  which  Quentin 
at  length  broke  by  resuming  his  queries. 

''  Yours  is  a  wandering  race,  unknown  to  the  nations  of 
Europe.     "Whence  do  they  derive  their  origin  ?  " 

**  I  may  not  tell  you,"  answered  the  Bohemian. 

'*  When  will  they  relieve  this  kingdom  from  their  presence, 
and  return  to  the  land  from  whence  they  came  ?  "  said  the 
Scot. 

"  When  the  day  of  their  pilgrimage  shall  be  accomplished," 
replied  the  vagrant  guide. 

"  Are  you  not  sprung  from  those  tribes  of  Israel  which 
were  carried  into  captivity  beyond  the  river  Euphrates  ?  " 
said  Quentin,  who  had  not  forgotten  the  lore  which  had 
been  taught  him  at  Aberbrothock. 

'^  Had  we  been  so,"  answered  the  Bohemian,  '^  we  had 
followed  their  faith  and  practised  their  rites." 

'^What  is  thine  own  name  ?"  said  Durward. 

"  My  proper  name  is  only  known  to  my  brethren.  The  men 
beyond  our  tents  call  me  HayraddinMaugrabin,  that  is  Hay- 
raddin  the  African  Moor." 

"  Thou  speakest  too  well  for  one  who  hath  lived  always  in 
thy  filthy  horde,"  said  the  Scot. 

"  I  have  learned  some  of  the  knoM^ledge  of  this  land," 
said  Hayraddin.  "  When  I  was  a  little  boy,  our  tribe  was 
chased  by  the  hunters  after  human  flesh.  An  arrow  went 
through  my  mother's  head,  and  she  died.  I  was  entangled 
in  the  blanket  on  her  shoulders,  and  was  taken  by  the  pur- 
suers. A  priest  begged  me  from  the  provost's  archers,  and 
trained  me  up  in  Frankish  learning  for  two  or  three  years." 

"  How  came  you  to  part  with  him  ?  "  demanded  Durward. 

*'  I  stole  money  from  him — even  the  god  which  he  wor- 
shiped," answered    Hayraddin,   with    perfect  composure ; 


ISO  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

**  he  detected  me,  and  beat  me ;  I  stabbed  him  with  my 
knife,  fled  to  the  woods,  and  was  again  united  to  my  people." 

"Wretch!"  said  Durward,  *^did  you  murder  your 
benefactor  ?  " 

''  What  had  he  to  do  to  burden  me  with  his  benefits  ?  The 
Zingaro  boy  was  no  house-bred  cur,  to  dog  the  heels  of  his 
master,  and  crouch  beneath  his  blows,  for  scraps  of  food. 
He  was  the  imprisoned  wolf-whelp,  which  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity broke  his  chain,  rended  his  master,  and  returned  to 
his  wilderness." 

There  was  another  pause,  when  the  young  Scot,  with  a 
view  of  still  farther  investigating  the  character  and  purpose 
of  this  suspicious  guide,  asked  Hayraddin,  '^  whether  it  was 
not  true  that  his  people,  amid  their  ignorance,  pretended  to 
a  knowledge  of  futurity  which  was  not  given  to  the  sages, 
philosophers,  and  divines  of  more  polished  society  ?" 

'*We  pretend  to  it,"  said  Hayraddin.  "And  it  is  with 
justice." 

"  How  can  it  be  that  so  high  a  gift  is  bestowed  on  so 
abject  a  race  ?"  said  Quentin. 

"  Can  I  tell  you  ?  "  answered  Hayraddin.  "  Yes,  I  may  in- 
deed ;  but  it  is  when  you  shall  explain  to  me  why  the  dog 
can  trace  the  footsteps  of  a  man,  while  man,  the  nobler 
animal,  hath  not  power  to  trace  those  of  the  dog.  These 
powers,  which  seem  to  you  so  vi^onderful,  are  instinctive  in 
our  race.  From  the  lines  on  the  face  and  on  the  hand  we 
can  tell  the  future  fate  of  those  who  consult  us,  even  as 
surely  as  you  know  from  the  blossom  of  the  tree  in  spring 
what  fruit  it  will  bear  in  the  harvest." 

"  I  doubt  of  your  knowledge,  and  defy  you  to  the  proof." 

"Defy  me  not,  sir  squire,"  said  Hayraddin  Maugrabin. 
"  I  can  tell  you  that,  say  what  you  will  of  your  religion, 
the  goddess  whom  you  worship  rides  in  this  company." 

"  Peace  !  "  said  Quentin,  in  astonishment  :  "  on  thy  life, 
not  a  word  farther,  but  in  answer  to  what  I  ask  thee.  Canst 
thou  be  faithful  ?  " 

"  I  can  ;  all  men  can,"  said  the  Bohemian. 

"  But  wilt  thou  be  faithful  ?  " 

"  Wouldst  thou  believe  me  the  more  should  I  swear  it  ?" 
answered  Maugrabin,  with  a  sneer. 

"Thy  life  is  in  my  hand,"  said  the  young  Scot. 

"  Strike,  and  see  whether  I  fear  to  die,"  answered  the 
Bohemian. 

"Will  money  render  thee  a  trusty  guide  ?"  demanded 
Durward. 


QUl^NTIN  DUBWAnD  181 

*'  If  I  be  not  such  without  it,  no/'  replied  the  heathou. 

^*  Then  what  will  bind  thee  ?  "  asked  the  Scot. 

^'Kindness/'  replied  the  Bohemian. 

"  Shall  I  swear  to  show  thee  such,  if  thou  art  true  guide 
to  us  on  this  pilgrimage  ?  " 

*'No/"  replied  Hayraddin,  '^it  were  extragavant  waste  of 
a  commodity  so  rare.     To  thee  I  am  bound  already/' 

*'How  I"  exclaimed  Durward,  more  surprised  than  ever. 

'^  Remember  the  chestnut-trees  on  the  banks  of  the  Cher. 
The  victim  whose  body  thou  didst  cut  down  was  my  brother, 
Zamet,  the  Maiigrabin." 

''  And  yet/'  said  Quentin,  "  I  find  you  in  correspondence 
with  those  very  officers  by  whom  your  brother  was  done  to 
death;  for  it  was  one  of  them  who  directed  me  whereto 
meet  with  you — the  same,  doubtless,  who  procured  yonder 
ladies  your  services  as  a  guide/' 

^^  What  can  we  do  ? "  answered  Hayraddin,  gloomily. 
''  These  men  deal  with  us  as  the  sheep-dogs  do  with  the  flock  : 
they  protect  us  for  a  while,  drive  us  hither  and  thither 
at  their  pleasure,  and  always  end  by  guiding  us  to  the 
shambles." 

Quentin  had  afterwards  occasion  to  learn  that  the  Bohe- 
mian spoke  truth  in  this  particular,  and  that  the  provost- 
guard,  employed  to  suppress  the  vagabond  bands  by  which  the 
kingdom  was  invested,  entertained  correspondence  among 
them,  and  forbore,  for  a  certain  time,  the  exercise  of  their 
duty,  which  always  at  last  ended  in  conducting  these  allies 
to  the  gallows.  This  is  a  sort  of  political  relation  between 
thief  and  officer,  for  the  profitable  exercise  of  their  mutual 
professions,  which  has  subsisted  in  all  countries,  and  is  by 
no  means  unknown  to  our  own. 

Durward,  parting  from  the  guide,  fell  back  to  the  rest  of 
the  retinue,  very  little  satisfied  with  the  character  of  Hay- 
raddin, and  entertaining  little  confidence  in  the  professions 
of  gratitude  which  he  had  personally  made  to  him.  He  pro- 
ceeded to  sound  the  other  two  men  who  had  been  assigned 
him  for  attendants,  and  he  was  concerned  to  find  them 
stupid,  and  as  unfit  to  assist  him  with  counsel  as  in  the  ren- 
counter they  had  shown  themselves  reluctant  to  use  their 
weapons. 

"It  is  all  the  better,*'  said  Quentin  to  himself,  his  spirit 
rising  with  the  apprehended  difficulties  of  his  situation  ; 
*'  that  lovely  young  lady  shall  owe  all  to  me.  What  one 
hand — ay,  and  one  head — can  do,  methinks  I  can  boldly 
count  upon.     I  have  seen  my  father's  house  on  fire,  and  hinj 


182  WA  VERL E Y  NOVELS 

and  my  brothers  lying  dead  amongst  the  flames.  I  gave  not 
an  inch  back,  but  fought  it  out  to  the  last.  Now  I  am  two 
years  older,  and  have  the  best  and  fairest  cause  to  bear  me  well 
that  ever  kindled  mettle  within  a  brave  man^s  bosom. ^^ 

Acting  upon  this  resolution  the  attention  and  activity  which 
Quentin  bestowed  during  the  journey  had  in  it  something  that 
gave  him  the  appearance  of  ubiquity.  His  principal  and  most 
favorite  post  was  of  course  by  the  side  of  the  ladies,  who, 
sensible  of  his  extreme  attention  to  their  safety,  began  to 
converse  with  him  in  almost  the  tone  of  familiar  friendship, 
and  appeared  to  take  great  pleasure  in  the  naivete,  yet 
shrewdness,  of  his  conversation.  But  Quentin  did  not  suffer 
the  fascination  of  this  intercourse  to  interfere  with  the 
vigilant  discharge  of  his  duty. 

If  he  was  often  by  the  side  of  the  countesses,  laboring  to 
describe  to  the  natives  of  a  level  country  the  Grampian  Moun- 
tains, and,  above  all,  the  beauties  of  G-len  Houlakin,  he  was 
as  often  riding  with  Hayraddin  in  the  front  of  the  cavalcade, 
questioning  him  about  the  road  and  the  resting-places  and 
recording  his  answers  in  his  mind,  to  ascertain  whether  upon 
cross-examination  he  could  discover  anything  like  meditated 
treachery.  As  often  again  he  was  in  the  rear,  endeavoring 
to  secure  the  attachment  of  the  two  horsemen,  by  kind  words, 
gifts,  and  promises  of  additional  recompense  when  their  task 
should  be  accomplished. 

In  this  way  they  traveled  for  more  than  a  week,  through 
by-paths  and  unfrequented  districts,  and  by  circuitous 
routes,  in  order  to  avoid  large  towns.  Nothing  remarkable 
occurred,  though  they  now  and  then  met  strolling  gangs  of 
Bohemians,  who  respected  them  as  under  the  conduct  of  one 
of  their  tribe ;  straggling  soldiers,  or  perhaps  banditti,  who 
deemed  their  party  too  strong  to  be  attacked  ;  or  parties  of 
the  Marechaussee,  as  they  would  now  be  termed,  whom  Louis, 
who  searched  the  wounds  of  the  land  with  steel  and  cautery, 
employed  to  suppress  the  disorderly  bands  which  infested  the 
interior.  These  last  suffered  them  to  pursue  their  way  un- 
molested, by  virtue  of  a  password  with  which  Quentin  had 
been  furnished  for  that  purpose  by  the  King  himself. 

Their  resting-places  were  chiefly  the  monasteries,  most 
of  which  were  obliged  by  the  rules  of  their  foundation  to 
receive  pilgrims,  under  which  character  the  ladies  traveled, 
with  hospitality,  and  without  any  troublesome  inquiries  intd 
their  ranks  and  character,  which  most  persons  of  dis- 
tinction were  desirous  of  concealing  while  in  the  discharge 
of  their  vows.     The  pretence  of  weariness  was  usually  em- 


Q  XJENTIN  i)  tIR  WAnt)  163 

ployed  by  the  Countesses  of  Oroye  as  an  excuse  for  instantly 
retiring  to  rest,  and  Quentin,  as  their  major-domo,  arranged 
all  that  was  necessary  betwixt  them  and  their  entertainers 
with  a  strewdness  which  saved  them  all  trouble,  and  an 
alacrity  that  failed  not  to  excite  a  corresponding  degree  of 
good-will  on  the  part  of  those  who  were  thus  sedulously 
attended  to. 

One  circumstance  gave  Quentin  peculiar  trouble,  which 
was  the  character  and  nation  of  his  guide,  who,  as  a  heathen 
and  an  infidel  vagabond,  addicted,  besides,  to  occult  arts  (the 
badge  of  all  his  tribe),  was  often  looked  upon  as  a  very  im- 
proper guest  for  the  holy  resting-places  at  which  the  com- 
pany usually  halted,  and  was  not  in  consequence  admitted 
within  even  the  outer  circuit  of  their  walls  save  with  extreme 
reluctance.  This  was  very  embarrassing ;  for,  on  the  one 
hand,  it  was  necessary  to  keep  in  good  humor  a  man  who 
was  possessed  of  the  secret  of  their  expedition  ;  and  on  the 
other,  Quentin  deemed  it  indispensable  to  maintain  a  vigilant 
though  secret  watch  on  Hayraddin^s  conduct,  in  order  that, 
as  far  as  might  be,  he  should  hold  no  communication  with 
any  one  without  being  observed.  This,  of  course,  was  im- 
possible if  the  Bohemian  was  lodged  without  the  precincts 
of  the  convent  at  which  they  stopped,  and  Durward  could 
not  help  thinking  that  Hayraddin  was  desirous  of  bringing 
about  this  latter  arrangement,  for,  instead  of  keeping  him- 
self still  and  quiet  in  the  quarters  allotted  to  him,  his  conver- 
sation, tricks  and  songs  were  at  the  same  time  so  entertain- 
ing to  the  novices  and  younger  brethren  and  so  unedifying  in 
the  opinion  of  the  seniors  of  the  fraternity,  that,  in  more 
cases  than  one,  it  required  all  the  authority,  supported  by 
threats,  which  Quentin  could  exert  over  him  to  restrain  his 
irreverent  and  untimeous  jocularity,  and  all  the  interest  he 
could  make  with  the  superiors  to  prevent  th^  heathen  hound 
from  being  thrust  out  of  doors.  He  succeeded,  however,  by 
the  adroit  manner  in  which  he  apologized  for  the  acts  of  in- 
decorum committed  by  their  attendant,  and  the  skill  with 
which  he  hinted  the  hope  of  his  being  brought  to  a  better 
sense  of  principles  and  behavior  by  the  neighborhood  of  holy 
relics,  consecrated  buildings,  and  above  all,  of  men  dedicated 
to  religion. 

But  upon  the  tenth  or  twelfth  day  of  their  journey,  after 
they  had  entered  Flanders  and  were  approaching  the  town 
of  Namur,  all  the  efforts  of  Quentin  became  inadequate  to 
suppress  the  consequences  of  the  scandal  given  by  his  heathen 
guide.     The. scene  was  a  Franciscan  convent,  and  of  a  strict 


m  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

and  reformed  order,  and  the  prior  a  man  who  afterward* 
died  in  the  odor  of  sanctity.  After  rather  more  than  the 
usual  scruples,  which  were  indeed  in  such  a  case  to  be  ex- 
pected, had  been  surmounted,  the  obnoxious  Bohemian  at 
length  obtained  quarters  in  an  outhouse  inhabited  by  a  lay 
brother  who  acted  as  gardener.  The  ladies  retired  to  their 
apartment,  as  usual,  and  the  prior,  who  chanced  to  have 
some  distant  alliances  and  friends  in  Scotland,  and  who  was 
fond  of  hearing  foreigners  tell  of  their  native  countries,  in- 
vited Quentin,  with  whose  mien  and  conduct  he  seemed 
much  pleased,  to  a  slight  monastic  refection  in  his  own  cell. 
Finding  the  father  a  man  of  intelligence,  Quentin  did  not 
neglect  the  opportunity  of  making  himself  acquainted  with 
the  state  of  affairs  in  the  country  of  Liege,  of  which,  during 
the  last  two  days  of  their  journey,  he  had  heard  such  reports 
as  made  him  very  apprehensive  for  the  security  of  his  charge 
during  the  remainder  of  their  route,  nay,  even  of  the  bishop's 
power  to  protect  them  when  they  should  be  safely  conducted 
to  his  residence.  The  replies  of  the  prior  were  not  very 
consolatory. 

He  said  that  ''  The  people  of  Liege  were  wealthy  burgh- 
ers who,  like  Jeshurun  of  old,  had  waxed  fat  and  kicked  ; 
that  they  were  uplifted  in  heart  because  of  their  wealth  and 
their  privileges  ;  that  they  had  divers  disputes  with  the  Duke 
of  Burgundy,  their  liege  lord,  upon  the  subject  of  imposts 
and  immunities ;  and  that  they  had  repeatedly  broken  out 
into"  open  mutiny,  whereat  the  Duke  was  so  much  incensed, 
as  being  a  man  of  hot  and  fiery  nature,  that  he  had  sworn 
by  St.  George,  on  the  next  provocation,  he  would  make  the 
city  of  Liege  like  to  the  desolation  of  Babylon  and  the  down- 
fall of  Tyre,  a  hissing  and  a  reproach  to  the  whole  territory 
of  Flanders." 

"  And  he  is  a  prince,  by  all  report,  likely  to  keep  such  a 
vow,"  said  Quentin,  '^  so  the  men  of  Liege  will  probably  be- 
ware how  they  give  him  occasion." 

"  It  were  to  be  so  hoped,"  said  the  prior  ;  "  and  such  are 
the  prayers  of  the  godly  in  the  land,  who  would  not  that  the 
blood  of  the  citizens  were  poured  forth  like  water,  and  that 
they  should  perish,  even  as  utter  castaways,  ere  they  make 
their  peace  with  Heaven.  Also  the  good  bishop  labors  night 
and  day  to  preserve  peace,  as  well  becometh  a  servant  of  the 
altar  ;  for  it  is  written  in  Holy  Scripture,  Beati  pacifici. 
But "  here  the  good  prior  stopped  with  a  deep  sigh. 

Quentin  modestly  urged  the  great  importance  of  which  it 
was  to  the  ladies  whom  he  attended  to  have  .some  assured 


QUENTIN  BURWAUD  185 

information  respecting  the  internal  state  of  the  country,  and 
what  an  act  of  Christian  charity  it  would  be  if  the  worthy 
and  reverend  father  would  enlighten  them  upon  that  sub- 
ject. 

*'  It  is  one/'  said  the  prior,  *^  on  which  no  man  speaks  with 
willingness  ;  for  those  who  speak  evil  of  the  powerful,  etiam 
in  cuhiculOy  may  find  that  a  winged  thing  shall  carry  the 
matter  to  his  ears.  Nevertheless,  to  render  you,  who  seem 
an  ingenuous  youth,  and  your  ladies,  who  are  devout  vota- 
resses accomplishing  a  holy  pilgrimage,  the  little  service  that 
is  in  my  power,  I  will  be  plain  with  you." 

He  then  looked  cautiously  round,  and  lowered  his  voice, 
as  if  afraid  of  being  overheard. 

''  The  people  of  Liege,''  he  said,  "  are  privily  instigated  to 
their  frequent  mutinies  by  men  of  Belial,  who  pretend,  but, 
as  I  hope,  falsely,  to  have  commission  to  that  effect  from  our 
Most  Christian  King,  whom,  however,  I  hold  to  deserve  that 
term  better  than  were  consistent  with  his  thus  disturbing 
the  peace  of  a  neighboring  state.  Yet  so  it  is,  that  his  name 
is  freely  used  by  those  who  uphold  and  inflame  the  discon- 
tents at  Liege.  There  is,  moreover,  in  the  land  a  nobleman 
of  good  descent  and  fame  in  warlike  affairs,  but  otherwise, 
so  to  speak,  lapis  offensionis  et  pet7'a  scandali — a  stumbling- 
block  of  offense  to  the  countries  of  Burgundy  and  Flanders. 
His  name  is  William  de  la  Marck." 

"  Called  William  with  the  Beard  ?"  said  the  young  Scot, 
"  or  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes  ?  " 

"  And  rightly  so  called,  my  son,"  said  the  prior ;  *^  be- 
cause he  is  as  the  wild  boar  of  the  forest,  which  treadeth 
down  with  his  hoofs  and  rendeth  with  his  tusks.  And  he 
hath  formed  to  himself  a  band  of  more  than  a  thousand  men, 
all,  like  himself,  contemners  of  civil  and  ecclesiastical  au- 
thority, and  holds  himself  independent  of  the  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, and  maintains  himself  and  his  followers  by  rapine 
and  wrong,  wrought  without  distinction  upon  churchmen 
and  laymen.  Imposuit  manus  in  Chrisfos  Domini :  he  hath 
stretched  forth  his  hand  upon  the  Anointed  of  the  Lord, 
regardless  of  what  is  written — '  Touch  not  mine  Anointed, 
and  do  my  prophets  no  wrong.'  Even  to  our  poor  house 
did  he  send  for  sums  of  gold  and  sums  of  silver  as  a  ransom 
for  our  lives  and  those  of  our  brethren  ;  to  which  we  returned 
a  Latin  supplication,  stating  our  inability  to  answer  his  de- 
mand, and  exhorting  him  in  the  words  of  the  preacher, 
N^e  moUaris  amico  tuo  mahim,  cum  Jiahet  in  te  fiduciam. 
Nevertheless,  this  GuUelmus  Barbatus,  this  William  de  la 


186  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

Marck,  as  completely  ignorant  of  humane  letters  as  of 
humanity  itself,  replied,  in  his  ridiculous  jargon,  *  Si  non 
payatis,  hrulabo  monasterium  vestrum.'^'* 

"  Of  which  rude  Latin,  however,  you,  my  good  father,^' 
said  the  youth,  '^  were  at  no  loss  to  conceive  the  meaning/* 

''Alas!  my  son,'' said  the  prior,  ''fear  and  necessity  are 
shrewd  interpreters  ;  and  we  were  obliged  to  melt  down  the 
silver  vessels  of  our  altar  to  satisfy  the  rapacity  of  this  cruel 
chief.  May  Heaven  requite  it  to  him  sevenfold  !  Pereat 
i7nprohus.     Amen — amen,  anathema  esto  !  " 

"I  marvel,"  said  Quentin,  "  that  the  Duke  of  Burgundy, 
who  is  so  strong  and  powerful,  doth  not  bait  this  boar  to 
purpose,  of  whose  ravages  I  have  already  heard  so  much/' 

"Alas!  my  son,"  said  the  prior,  "the  Duke  Charles  is 
now  at  Peronne,  assembling  his  captains  of  hundreds  and  his 
captains  of  thousands,  to  make  war  against  France  ;  and 
thus,  while  Heaven  hath  set  discord  between  the  hearts  of 
those  great  princes,  the  country  is  misused  by  such  subor- 
dinate oppressors.  But  it  is  in  evil  time  that  the  Duke  neg- 
lects the  cure  of  these  internal  gangrenes  ;  for  this  William 
de  la  Marck  hath  of  late  entertained  open  communication 
with  Rouslaer  and  Pavilion,  the  chiefs  of  the  discontented 
at  Liege,  and  it  is  to  be  feared  he  will  soon  stir  them  up  to 
some  desperate  enterprise." 

"But  the  Bishop  of  Liege,"  said  Quentin,  "he  hath  still 

Eower  enough  to  subdue  this  disquieted  and  turbulent  sjDirit, 
ath  he  not,  good  father  ?    Your  answer  to  this  question 
concerns  me  much." 

"  The  bishop,  my  child,"  replied  the  prior,  "  hath  the 
sword  of  St.  Peter  as  well  as  the  keys.  He  hath  power  as  a 
secular  prince,  and  he  hath  the  protection  of  the  mighty 
house  of  Burgundy ;  he  hath  also  spiritual  authority  as  a 
prelate,  and  he  supports  both  with  a  reasonable  force  of 
good  soldiers  and  men-at-arms.  This  William  de  la  Marck 
was  bred  in  his  household,  and  bound  to  him  by  many 
benefits.  But  he  gave  vent,  even  in  the  court  of  the  bishop, 
to  his  fierce  and  bloodthirsty  temper,  and  was  expelled 
thence  for  a  homicide,  committed  on  one  of  the  bishop's 
chief  domestics.  From  thenceforward,  bein^  banished  from 
the  good  prelate's  presence,  he  hath  been  his  constant  and 
unrelenting  foe ;  and  now,  I  grieve  to  say,  he  hath  girded 
his  loins  and  strengthened  his  horn  against  him." 

*  A  similar  story  is  told  of  the  Duke  of  Vendome,  who  answered 
in  this  sort  of  macaronic  Latin  the  classical  expostulations  of  a  Ger 
convent  against  the  imposition  of  a  contribution. 


QUJSNTIN  DURWABD  181 

'*  You  consider,  then,  the  situation  of  the  worthy  prelate 
as  being  dangerous  ?  "  said  Quentin,  very  anxiously. 

*'  Alas  !  my  son,"  said  the  good  Franciscan,  ^^  what  or  who 
is  there  in  this  weary  wilderness  whom  we  may  not  hold  as 
in  danger  ?  But  Heaven  forefend  I  should  speak  of  the 
reverend  prelate  as  one  whose  peril  is  imminent.  He  has 
much  treasure,  true  counselors,  and  brave  soldiers ;  and, 
moreover,  a  messenger  who  passed  hither  to  the  eastward 
yesterday  saith  that  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  hath  despatched, 
upon  the  bishop's  request,  an  hundred  men-at-arms  to  his 
assistance.  This  reinforcement,  with  the  retinue  belonging 
to  each  lance,  are  enough  to  deal  with  William  de  ia  Marck, 
on  whose  name  be  sorrow  !     Amen." 

At  this  crisis  their  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the 
sacristan,  who,  in  a  voice  almost  inarticulate  with  anger, 
accused  the  Bohemian  of  having  practised  the  most  abom- 
inable arts  of  delusion  among  the  younger  brethren.  He  had 
added  to  their  nightly  meal  cups  of  a  heady  and  intoxicating 
cordial  of  ten  times  the  strength  of  the  most  powerful  wine, 
under  which  several  of  the  fraternity  had  succumbed  ;  and, 
indeed,  although  the  sacristan  had  been  strong  to  resist  its 
influence,  they  might  yet  see,  from  his  inflamed  counte- 
nance and  thick  speech,  that  even  he,  the  accuser  himself, 
was  in  some  degree  affected  by  this  unhallowed  potation. 
Moreover,  the  Bohemian  had  sung  songs  of  worldly  vanity 
and  impure  pleasures  ;  he  had  derided  the  cord  of  St.  Francis, 
made  jest  of  his  miracles,  and  termed  his  votaries  fools  and 
lazy  knaves.  Lastly,  he  had  practised  palmistry,  and  fore- 
told to  the  young  Father  Cherubin  that  he  was  beloved  by 
a  beautiful  lady,  who  should  make  him  father  to  a  thriving 
boy. 

The  father  prior  listened  to  these  complaints  for  some 
time  in  silence,  as  struck  with  mute  horror  by  their  enor- 
mous atrocity.  When  the  sacristan  had  concluded,  he  rose 
up,  descended  to  the  court  of  the  convent,  and  ordered  the 
lay  brethren,  on  pain  of  the  worst  consequences  of  spiritual 
disobedience,  to  beat  Hayraddin  out  of  the  sacred  precincts 
with  their  broom-staves  and  cart-whips. 

This  sentence  was  executed  accordingly,  in  the  presence  of 
Quentin  Durward,  who,  however  vexed  at  the  occurrence, 
easily  saw  that  his  interference  would  be  of  no  avail. 

The  discipline  inflicted  upon  the  delinquent,  notwith- 
standing the  exhortations  of  the  superior,  was  more  ludicrous 
than  formidable.  The  Bohemian  ran  hither  and  thither 
through  the  court,  amongst  the  clamor  of  voices  and  noise 


188  WAVEELEY  NOVELS 

of  blows,  some  of  which  reached  him  not,  because  purposely 
misaimed  ;  others,  sincerely  designed  for  his  person,  were 
eluded  by  his  activity  ;  and  the  few  that  fell  upon  his  back 
and  shoulders  he  took  without  either  complaint  or  reply. 
The  noise  and  riot  was  the  greater,  that  the  inexperienced 
cudgel-players,  among  whom  Hayraddin  ran  the  gauntlet, 
hit  each  other  more  frequently  than  they  did  him  ;  till  at 
length,  desirous  of  ending  a  scene  which  was  more  scanda- 
lous than  edifying,  the  prior  commanded  the  wicket  to  be 
flung  open,  and  the  Bohemian,  darting  through  it  with  the 
speed  of  lightning,  fled  forth  into  the  moonlight. 

During  this  scene,  a  suspicion  which  Durward  had  for- 
merly entertained  recurred  with  additional  strength. 
Hayraddin  had,  that  very  morning,  promised  him  more 
modest  and  discreet  behavior  than  he  was  wont  to  exhibit 
when  they  rested  in  a  convent  on  their  journey  ;  yet  he  had 
broken  his  engagement,  and  had  been  even  more  offensively 
obstreperous  than  usual.  Something  probably  lurked  under 
this  ;  for  whatever  were  the  Bohemian's  deficiencies,  he  lacked 
neither  sense  nor,  when  he  pleased,  self-command  ;  and  might 
it  not  be  probable  that  he  wished  to  hold  some  communica- 
tion, either  with  his  own  horde  or  some  one  else,  from  which  he 
was  debarred  in  the  course  of  the  day  by  the  vigilance  with 
which  he  was  watched  by  Quentin,  and  had  recourse  to  this 
stratagem  in  order  to  get  himself  turned  out  of  the  convent  ? 

No  sooner  did  this  suspicion  dart  once  more  through  Dur- 
ward's  mind  than,  alert  as  he  always  was  in  his  motions,  he 
resolved  to  follow  his  cudgeled  guide,  and  observe,  secretly 
if  possible,  how  he  disposed  of  himself.  Accordingly,  when 
the  Bohemian  fled,  as  already  mentioned,  out  at  the  gate  of 
the  convent^  Quentin,  hastily  explaining  to  the  prior  the 
necessity  of  keeping  sight  of  his  guide,  followed  in  pursuit 
of  him. 


yuA   ,jj|tix' 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE   ESPIED  SPY 

What,  the  rue  ranger  ?  and  spied  spy  ?    Hands  off— 
You  are  for  no  such  rustics. 

Ben  Jonson's  Tale  of  Robin  Hood. 

When"  Quentin  sallied  from  the  convent,  he  could  mark  the 
precipitate  retreat  of  the  Bohemian,  whose  dark  figure  was 
seen  in  the  fair  moonlight,  flying  with  the  speed  of  a  flogged 
hound  quite  through  the  street  of  the  little  village,  and 
across  the  level  meadow  that  lay  beyond. 

''  My  friend  runs  fast,''  said  Quentin  to  himself ;  ''but  he 
must  run  faster  yet  to  escape  the  fleetest  foot  that  ever 
pressed  the  heather  of  Glen  Houlakin.^' 

Being  fortunately  without  his  cloak  and  armor,  the  Scot- 
tish mountaineer  was  at  liberty  to  put  forth  a  speed  which 
was  unrivaled  in  his  own  glens,  and  which,  notwithstanding 
the  rate  at  which  the  Bohemian  ran,  was  likely  soon  to  bring 
his  pursuer  up  with  him.  This  was  not,  however,  Quentin's 
object ;  for  he  considered  it  more  essential  to  watch  Hay- 
rad din's  motions  than  to  interrupt  them.  He  was  the  rather 
led  to  this  by  the  steadiness  with  which  the  Bohemian 
directed  his  course  ;  and  which  continuing,  even  after  the 
impulse  of  the  violent  expulsion  had  subsided,  seemed  to 
indicate  that  his  career  had  some  more  certain  goal  for  its 
object  than  could  have  suggested  itself  to  a  person  unex- 
pectedly turned  out  of  good  quarters  when  midnight  was 
approaching,  to  seek  a  new  place  of  repose.  He  never  even 
looked  behind  him  ;  and  consequently  Durward  was  enabled 
to  follow  him  unobserved.  At  length  the  Bohemian  hav- 
ing traversed  the  meadow,  and  attained  the  side  of  a  little 
stream,  the  banks  of  which  were  clothed  with  alders  and 
willows,  Quentin  observed  that  he  stood  still,  and  blew  a  low 
note  on  his  horn,  which  was  answered  by  a  whistle  at  some 
little  distance. 

''This  is  a  rendezvous,"  thought  Quentin;  "but  how 
shall  I  come  near  enough  to  overhear  the  import  of 
what  passes  ?    The  sound  of  my  steps,  and  the  rustling  of 

189 


190  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

the  boughs  through  which  I  must  force  my  passage,  will 
betray  me,  unless  I  am  cautious.  I  will  stalk  them,  by 
St.  Andrew,  as  if  they  were  Glen  Isla  deer  ;  they  shall  learn 
that  I  have  not  conned  woodcraft  for  naught.  Yonder  they 
meet,  the  two  shadows — and  two  of  them  there  are — odds 
against  me  if  I  am  discovered,  and  if  their  purpose  be  un- 
friendly, as  is  much  to  be  doubted.  And  then  the  Countess 
Isabelle  loses  her  poor  friend  !  Well,  and  he  were  not 
worthy  to  be  called  such,  if  he  were  not  ready  to  meet  a 
dozen  in  her  behalf.  Have  I  not  crossed  swords  with  Dunois, 
the  best  knight  in  France,  and  shall  I  fear  a  tribe  of  yonder 
vagabonds  ?  Pshaw  !  God  and  St.  Andrew  to  friend,  they 
will  find  me  both  stout  and  wary.^' 

Thus  resolving,  and  with  a  degree  of  caution  taught  him 
by  his  silvan  habits,  our  friend  descended  into  the  channel 
of  the  little  stream,  which  varied  in  depth,  sometimes  scarce 
covering  his  shoes,  sometimes  coming  up  to  his  knees,  and 
so  crept  along,  his  form  concealed  by  the  boughs  overhang- 
ing the  bank,  and  his  steps  unheard  amid  the  ripple  of  the 
water.  (We  have  ourselves,  in  the  days  of  yore,  thus  ap- 
proached the  nest  of  the  wakeful  raven.)  In  this  manner, 
the  Scot  drew  near  unperceived,  until  he  distinctly  heard 
the  voices  of  those  who  were  the  subject  of  his  observation, 
though  he  could  not  distinguish  the  words.  Being  at  this 
time  under  the  drooping  branches  of  a  magnificent  weeping 
willow,  which  almost  swept  the  surface  of  the  water,  he 
caught  hold  of  one  of  its  boughs,  by  the  assistance  of  which, 
exerting  at  once  much  agility,  dexterity,  and  strength,  he 
raised  himself  up  into  the  body  of  the  tree,  and  sat,  secure 
from  discovery,  among  the  central  branches. 

From  this  situation  he  could  discover  that  the  person  with 
whom  Hayraddin  was  now  conversing  was  one  of  his  own 
tribe,  and,  at  the  same  time,  he  perceived,  to  his  great  dis- 
appointment, that  no  approximation  could  enable  him  to 
comprehend  their  language,  which  was  totally  unknown  to 
him.  They  laughed  much  ;  and  as  Hayraddin  made  a  sign 
of  skipping  about,  and  ended  by  rubbing  his  shoulder  with 
his  hand,  Durward  had  no  doubt  that  he  was  relating  the 
story  of  the  bastinading  which  he  had  sustained  previous  to 
his  escape  from  the  convent. 

On  a  sudden,  a  whistle  was  again  heard  in  the  distance, 
which  was  once  more  answered  by  a  low  tone  or  two  of  Hay- 
raddin's  horn.  Presently  afterwards,  a  tall,  stout,  soldierly- 
looking  man,  a  strong  contrast  in  point  of  thews  and 
sinews  to  the  small  and  slender-limbed  Bohemians^  made  his 


qUENTIN  BURWABD  191 

appearance.  He  had  a  broad  baldric  over  his  shoulder, 
which  sustained  a  sword  that  hung  almost  across  his  person  ; 
his  hose  were  much  slashed,  through  which  slashes  was 
drawn  silk  or  tiffany  of  various  colors  ;  they  were  tied  by  at 
least  five  hundred  points  or  strings,  made  of  ribbon,  to  the 
tight  buff  jacket  which  he  wore,  and  the  right  sleeve  of 
which  displayed  a  silver  boards  head,  the  crest  of  his  captain. 
A  very  small  hat  sat  jauntily  on  one  side  of  his  head,  from 
which  descended  a  quantity  of  curled  hair,  which  fell  on 
each  side  of  a  broad  face,  and  mingled  with  as  broad  a  beard, 
about  four  inches  long.  He  held  a  long  lance  in  his  hand  ; 
and  his  whole  equipment  was  that  of  one  of  the  German 
adventurers,  who  were  known  by  the  name  of  lanzkiiechts, 
in  English  '^  spearmen,^'  who  constituted  a  formidable  part 
of  the  infantry  of  the  period.  Tliese  mercenaries  were,  of 
course,  a  fierce  and  rapacious  soldiery,  and  having  an  idle 
tale  current  among  themselves  that  a  lanzknecJit  was  re- 
fused admittance  into  Heaven  on  account  of  his  vices,  and 
into  Hell  on  the  score  of  his  tumultuous,  mutinous,  and  in- 
subordinate disposition,  they  manfully  acted  as  if  they 
neither  sought  the  one  nor  eschewed  the  other. 

^^  Donner  and  Blitz  I  ^^  was  his  first  salutation,  in  a  sort  of 
German-French,  wliich  we  can  only  imperfectly  imitate, 
''  why  have  you  kept  me  dancing  in  attendance  dis  dree 
nights?" 

^^  I  could  not  see  you  sooner,  Meinherr,'*  said  Hayraddin, 
very  submissively  :  "  there  is  a  young  Scot,  with  as  quick 
an  eye  as  the  wild-cat,  who  watches  my  least  motions.  He 
suspects  me  already,  and,  should  he  find  his  suspicion  con- 
firmed, I  were  a  dead  man  on  the  spot,  and  he  would  carry 
back  the  women  into  France  again." 

^'  Was  henlcer  r'  '&dS.d^  tlie  lanzknecht ;  'Mve  are  three — 
we  will  attack  them  to-morrow,  and  carry  the  women  off 
without  going  farther.  You  said  the  two  valets  were 
cowards  ;  you  and  your  comrade  may  manage  them,  and 
the  I'e?^/^/ shall  hold  me,  but  I  match  your  Scots  wild-cat." 

''You  will  find  that  foolhardy,"  said  Hayraddin;  ''for, 
besides  that  we  ourselves  count  not  much  in  fighting,  this 
spark  hath  matched  himself  with  the  best  knight  in  France, 
and  come  off  with  honor :  I  have  seen  those  who  saw  him 
press  Dunois  hard  enough." 

"  Hagel  and  sturmwetter  !  It  is  but  your  cowardice  that 
speaks,''  said  the  German  soldier. 

"  I  am  no  more  a  coward  than  yourself,"  said  Hayraddin  ; 
;"  but  my  trade  is  not  fighting.     If  you  keep  the  appointment 


19^  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

where  it  was  laid,  it  is  well  ;  if  not,  I  guide  them  safely  to 
the  bishop's  palace,  ai)d  William  de  la  Marck  may  easily  pos- 
sess himself  of  them  there,  provided  he  is  half  as  strong  ag 
he  pretended  a  week  since/' 

'' Fotz  tausend!  "  said  the  soldier,  "we  are  as  strong  and 
stronger  ;  but  we  hear  of  a  hundred  of  the  lances  of  Bur- 
gundy— dasisty  see  you,  five  men  to  a  lance  do  make  five 
hundreds,  and  then  hold  me  the  devil,  they  will  be  fainer  to 
seek  for  us  than  we  to  seek  for  them  ;  for  der  tisclioff  hath  a 
goot  force  on  footing — ay,  indeed  !  " 

"  You  must  then  hold  to  the  ambuscade  at  the  Cross  of  the 
Three  Kings,  or  give  up  the  adventure,"  said  the  Bohemian. 

"  Geb  up — geb  up  the  adventure  of  the  rich  bride  for  our 
nohlQ  hauptmann.  Teufel!  I  will  charge  through  hell  first. 
Mein  soul,  we  will  be  all  princes  and  hertzogs,  whom  they 
call  dukes,  and  we  will  hab  a  snab  at  the  weinheller,  and  at 
the  mouldy  French  crowns,  and  it  may  be  at  the  pretty 
graces,  too,  when  He  with  de  Beard  is  weary  on  them.'' 

"  The  ambuscade  at  the  Cross  of  the  Three  Kings  then 
still  holds  ?  "  said  the  Bohemian. 

^'  Mein  Gott,  ay, — you  will  swear  to  bring  them  there  ;  and 
when  they  are  on  their  knees  before  the  cross  and  down  from 
off  their  horses,  which  all  men  do,  except  such  black  heathitis 
as  thou,  we  will  make  in  on  them,  and  they  are  ours." 

"  Ay,  but  I  promised  this  piece  of  necessary  villainy  only 
on  one  condition,"  said  Hayraddin.  "I  will  not  have  a 
hair  of  the  young  man's  head  touched.  If  you  swear  this  to 
me,  by  your  Three  Dead  Men  of  Cologne,  I  will  swear  to 
you  by  the  Seven  Night  Walkers,  that  I  will  serve  you  truly 
as  to  the  rest.  And  if  you  break  your  oath,  the  Night 
Walkers  shall  wake  you  seven  nights  from  your  sleep,  be- 
tween night  and  morning,  and,  on  the  eighth,  they  shall 
strangle  and  devour  you." 

"  But,  donner  and  Jiagel,  what  need  you  be  so  curious  about 
the  life  of  this  boy,  who  is  neither  your  bloot  nor  kin  ?  "  said 
the  German. 

"  No  matter  for  that,  honest  Heinrich  ;  some  men  have 
pleasure  in  cutting  throats,  some  in  keeping  them  whole. 
So  swear  to  me  that  you  will  spare  him  life  and  limb,  or,  by 
the  bright  star  Aldebaran,  this  matter  shall  go  no  further. 
Swear,  and  by  the  Three  Kings,  as  yon  call  them,  of  Cologne; 
I   know  ^ou  care  for  no  other  oath/* 

^'Du  btsf  ein  comischer  man^i,"  said  the  lanzknecht,  "  I 
swear " 

*'  Not  yet,"  said  the   Bohemian.     '^  Faces  about,  brave 


QUMNTIN  BURWARD  im 

lanzknecht,  and  look  to  the  east,  else  the  kings  may  not  hear 
you/' 

The  soldier  took  the  <^th  in  the  manner  prescribed,  and 
thon  declared  that  he  would  be  in  readiness,  observing  the 
place  was  quite  convenient,  being. scarce  five  miles  from  their 
present  leaguer. 

^'  But,  were  it  not  making  sure  work  to  hav e  sl  faJmlein  oi 
riders  on  the  other  road»  by  the  left  side  of  the  inn,  which 
might  trap  them  if  they  go  that  way  ?  " 

The  Bohemian  considered  a  moment,  and  then  answered, 
^^  No  ;  the  appearance  ot  their  troops  in  that  direction  might 
alarm  the  garrison  of  Namur,  and  then  they  would  have  a 
doubtful  fight,  instead  of  assured  success.  Besides,  they 
shall  travel  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Maes,  for  I  can  guide 
them  which  way  I  will ;  for,  sharp  as  this  same  Scottish 
mountaineer  is,  he  hath  never  asked  any  one's  advice  save 
mine  upon  the  direction  of  their  route.  Undoubtedly,  I  was 
assigned  to  him  by  an  assured  friend,  whose  words  no  man 
mistrusts  till  they  come  to  know  him  a  little." 

**  Hark  ye,  friend  Hayraddin,"  said  the  soldier,  ''  I  would 
ask  you  somewhat.  You  and  your  hruder  were,  as  you  say 
yourself,  gross  sternendeuter,  that  is,  star-lookers  and  ^e/s^er- 
seers.  Now,  what  henher  was  it  made  you  not  foresee  him, 
your  hruder  Zamet,  to  be  hanged  ?" 

*•  I  will  tell  you,  Heinrich,''  said  Hayraddin  ;  *Mf  I  could 
have  known  my  brother  was  such  a  fool  as  to  tell  the  counsel 
of  King  Louis  to  Duke  Charles  of  Burgundy,  I  could  have 
foretold  his  death  as  sure  as  I  can  foretell  fair  weather  in 
July.  Louis  hath  both  ears  and  hands  at  the  court  of  Bur- 
gundy, and  Charles's  counselors  love  the  chink  of  French  gold 
as  well  as  thou  dost  the  clatter  of  a  wine-pot.  But  fare  thee 
well,  and  keep  appointment ;  I  must  await  my  early  Scot  a 
bow-shot  without  the  gate  of  the  den  of  the  lazy  swine  yonder,, 
else  will  he  think  me  about  some  excursion  which  bodes  no 
^ood  to  the  success  of  his  journey." 

''Take  a  draught  of  comfort  first,"  said  the  lanzknecht, 
tendering  him  a  flask  ;  *'  but  I  forget,  thou  art  beast  enough 
to  drink  nothing  but  water,  like  a  vile  vassal  of  Mahound 
and  Termagund." 

''  Thou  art  thyself  a  vassal  of  the  wine-measure  and  the 
flagon,"  said  the  Bohemian.  ''  I  marvel  not  that  thou  art 
only  trusted  with  the  bloodthirsty  and  violent  part  of  execu- 
ting what  better  heads  have  devised.  He  must  drink  no 
wine  who  would  know  the  thoughts  of  others  or  hide  his  own. 
But  why  preach  to  thee,  who  hast  a  thirst  as  eternal  as  a 
13 


iU  WAVER  LEY  NOVELS 

sandbank  in  Arabia  ?  Fare  thee  well.  Take  my  comrade 
Tuisco  with  thee  ;  his  appearance  about  the  monastery  may 
breed  suspicion/' 

The  two  worthies  parted,  after  each  had  again  pledged 
himself  to  keep  the  rendezvous  at  the  Cross  of  the  Three 
Kings. 

Quentin  Durward  watched  until  they  were  out  of  sight, 
and  then  descended  from  his  place  of  concealment,  his  heart 
throbbing  at  the  narrow  escape  which  he  and  his  fair  charge 
had  made — if,  indeed,  it  could  yet  be  achieved — from  a  deep- 
laid  plan  of  villainy.  Afraid,  on  his  return  to  the  monastery, 
of  stumbling  upon  Hayraddin,  he  made  a  long  detour,  at  the 
expense  of  traversing  some  very  rough  ground,  and  was  thus 
enabled  to  return  to  his  asylum  on  a  different  point  from 
that  by  which  he  left  it. 

On  the  route,  he  communed  earnestly  with  himself  con- 
cerning the  safest  plan  to  be  pursued.  He  had  formed  the 
resolution,  when  he  first  heard  Hayraddin  avow  his 
treachery,  to  put  him  to  death  so  soon  as  the  conference  broke 
up,  and  his  companions  were  at  a  sufficient  distance  ;  but 
when  he  heard  the  Bohemian  express  so  much  interest  in 
saving  his  own  life,  he  felt  it  would  be  ungrateful  to  execute 
upon  him,  in  its  rigor,  the  punishment  his  treachery  had 
deserved.  He  therefore  resolved  to  spare  his  life,  and  even, 
if  possible,  still  to  use  his  services  as  a  guide,  under  such 
precautions  as  should  ensure  the  security  of  the  precious 
charge,  to  the  preservation  of  which  his  own  life  was  inter- 
nally devoted. 

But  whither  were  they  to  turn  ?  The  Countesses  of  Croye 
could  neither  obtain  shelter  in  Burgundy,  from  which  they 
had  fled,  nor  in  France,  from  which  they  had  been  in  a  man- 
ner expelled.  The  violence  of  Duke  Charles  in  the  one 
country  was  scarcely  more  to  be  feared  than  the  cold  and 
tyrannical  policy  of  King  Louis  in  the  other.  After  deep 
thought,  Durward  could  form  no  better  or  safer  plan  for 
their  security  than  that,  evading  the  ambuscade,  they  should 
take  the  road  to  Liege  by  the  left  hand  of  the  Maes,  and 
throw  themselves,  as  the  ladies  originally  designed,  upon  the 
protection  of  the  excellent  bishop.  That  prelate's  will  to 
protect  them  could  not  be  doubted,  and,  if  reinforced  by 
this  Burgundian  party  of  men-at-arms,  he  might  be  considered 
as  having  the  power.  At  any  rate,  if  the  dangers  to  which 
he  was  exposed  from  the  hostility  of  William  de  la  Marck,  and 
from  the  troubles  in  the  city  of  Liege,  appeared  imminent, 
)m  would  still  be  able  to  protect  the  unfortunate  ladies  until 


qtTElffiN  B tlR  IVABJ)  M 

they  could  be  despatched  to  Germany  with  a  suitable  es- 
cort. 

To  sum  up  this  reasoning — for  when  is  a  mental  argument 
conducted  without  some  reference  to  selfish  considerations  ? 
— Quentin  imagined  that  the  death  or  captivity  to  which 
King  Louis  had,  in  cold  blood,  consigned  him*^set  him  at 
liberty  from  his  engagements  to  the  crown  of  France  ;  which, 
therefore,  it  was  his  determined  purpose  to  renounce.  The 
Bishop  of  Liege  was  likely,  he  concluded,  to  need  soldiers, 
and  he  thought  that,  by  the  interposition  of  his  fair  friends 
who  now,  especially  the  elder  countess,  treated  him  with 
much  familiarity,  he  might  get  some  command,  and  perhaps 
might  have  the  charge  of  conducting  the  Ladies  of  Croye  to 
some  place  more  safe  than  the  neighborhood  of  Liege.  And, 
so  conclude,  the  ladies  had  talked,  although  almost  in  a  sort 
of  jest,  of  raising  the  countess's  own  vassals,  and,  as  others 
did  in  those  stormy  times,  fortifying  her  strong  castle  against 
all  assailants  whatever  ;  they  had  jestingly  asked  Quentin, 
whether  he  would  accept  the  perilous  office  of  their  senes- 
chal ;  and,  on  his  embracing  the  office  with  ready  glee  and 
devotion,  they  had,  in  the  same  spirit,  permitted  him  to  kiss 
both  their  hands  on  that  confidential  and  honorable  appoint- 
ment. Nay,  he  thought  that  the  hand  of  the  Countess  Isa- 
belle,  one  of  the  best  formed  and  most  beautiful  to  which  true 
vassal  ever  did  such  homage,  trembled  when  his  lips  rested  on 
it  a  moment  longer  than  ceremony  required,  and  that  some 
confusion  appeared  on  her  cheek  and  in  her  eye  as  she  with- 
drew it.  Something  might  come  of  all  this  ;  and  what  brave 
man,  at  Quentin  Durward's  age,  but  would  gladly  have  taken 
the  thoughts  which  it  awakened  into  the  considerations  which 
were  to  determine  his  conduct  ? 

This  point  settled,  he  had  next  to  consider  in  what  degree 
he  was  to  use  the  further  guidance  of  the  faithless  Bohemian. 
He  had  renounced  his  first  thought  of  killing  him  in  the 
wood,  and  if  he  took  another  guide  and  dismissed  him  alive, 
it  would  be  sending  the  traitor  to  the  camp  of  William  de  la 
Marck  with  intelligence  of  their  motions.  He  thought  of 
taking  the  prior  into  his  counsels,  and  requesting  him  to  de- 
tain the  Bohemian  by  force  until  they  should  have  time  to 
leach  the  bishop's  castle  ;  but,  on  reflection,  he  dared  not 
hazard  such  a  proposition  to  one  who  was  timid  both  as  an 
old  man  and  a  friar,  who  held  the  safety  of  his  convent  the 
most  important  object  of  his  duty,  and  who  trembled  at  the 
mention  of  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes. 

At  length  Durward  settled  a  plan  of  operation,  on  which 


196  WAVEULET  NOVELS 

he  could  the  better  reckon,  as  the  execution  rested  entirely 
upon  himself  ;  and,  in  the  cause  in  which  he  was  engaged, 
he  felt  himself  capable  of  everything.  With  a  firm  and  bold 
heart,  though  conscious  of  the  dangers  of  his  situation, 
Quentin  might  be  compared  to  one  walking  under  a  load,  of 
the  weight  of  which  he  is  conscious,  but  which  yet  is  not 
beyond  his  strength  and  power  of  endurance.  Just  as  his 
plan  was  determined,  he  reached  the  convent. 

Upon  knocking  gently  at  the  gate,  a  brother,  consider- 
ately stationed  for  that  purpose  by  the  prior,  opened  it,  and 
acquainted  him  that  the  brethren  were  to  be  engaged  in  the 
choir  till  daybreak,  praying  Heaven  to  forgive  to  the  com- 
munity the  various  scandals  which  had  that  evening  taken 
place  among  them. 

The  worthy  friar  offered  Quentin  permission  to  attend 
their  devotions  ;  but  his  clothes  were  in  such  a  wet  condi- 
tion that  the  young  Scot  was  obliged  to  decline  the  oppor- 
tunity, and  request  permission  instead  to  sit  by  the  kitchen 
fire,  in  order  to  his  attire  being  dried  before  morning,  as  he 
was  particularly  desirous  that  the  Bohemian,  when  they 
should  next  meet,  should  observe  no  traces  of  his  having 
been  abroad  during  the  night.  The  friar  not  only  granted 
his  request,  but  afforded  him  his  own  company,  which  fell 
in  very  happily  with  the  desire  which  Durward  had  to  ob- 
tain information  concerning  the  two  routes  which  he  had 
heard  mentioned  by  the  Bohemian  in  his  conversation  with 
the  lanzknecht.  The  friar,  entrusted  upon  many  occasions 
•with  the  business  of  the  convent  abroad,  was  the  person  in 
the  fraternity  best  qualified  to  aff'ord  him  the  information 
he  requested  ;  but  observed  that,  as  true  pilgrims,  it  became 
the  duty  of  the  ladies  whom  Quentin  escorted  to  take  the 
road  on  the  right  side  of  the  Maes,  by  the  Cross  of  the  Kings 
where  the  blessed  relics  of  Caspar,  Melchior,  and  Balthasar, 
as  the  Catholic  Church  has  named  the  eastern  Magi  who 
came  to  Bethlehem  with  their  offerings,  had  rested  as  they 
were  transported  to  Cologne,  and  on  which  spot  they  had 
wrought  many  miracles. 

Quentin  replied  that  the  ladies  were  determined  to  ob- 
serve all  the  holy  stations  with  the  utmost  punctuality,  and 
would  certainly  visit  that  of  the  Cross  either  in  going  to  or 
returning  from  Cologne,  but  they  had  heard  reports  that  the 
road  by  the  right  side  of  the  river  was  at  present  rendered 
unsafe  by  the  soldiers  of  the  ferocious  William  de  la  Marck. 

'^Now  may  Heaven  forbid,^^  said  Father  Francis,  ''that 
the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes  should  again  make  his  lair  so 


QUENTIN  DUB  WARD  Iff] 

near  us  !  Nevertheless,  the  broad  Maes  will  be  a  good  bar- 
rier betwixt  us,  even  should  it  so  chance/' 

*'  But  it  will  be  no  barrier  between  my  ladies  and  the  ma- 
rauder, should  we  cross  the  river  and  travel  on  the  right 
bank,*'  answered  the  Scot. 

"  Heaven  will  protect  its  ownj,  young  man,''  said  the  friar ; 
'*  for  it  were  hard  to  think  that  the  kings  of  yonder  blessed 
city  of  Cologne,  who  will  not  endure  that  a  Jew  or  infidel 
should  even  enter  within  the  walls  of  their  town,  could  be 
oblivious  enough  to  permit  their  worshipers,  coming  to  their 
shrine  as  true  pilgrims,  to  be  plundered  and  misused  by  such 
a  miscreant  dog  as  this  Boar  of  Ardennes,  who  is  worse  than 
a  whole  desert  of  Saracen  heathens  and  all  the  ten  tribes  of 
Israel  to  boot." 

Whatever  reliance  Quentin,  as  a  sincere  Catholic,  was  bound 
to  rest  upon  the  special  protection  of  Melchior,  Caspar,  and 
Balthasar,  he  could  not  but  recollect  that,  the  pilgrim  habits 
of  the  ladies  being  assumed  out  of  mere  earthly  policy,  he 
and  his  charge  could  scarcely  expect  their  countenance  on  the 
present  occasion  ;  and  therefore  resolved,  as  far  as  possible, 
to  avoid  placing  the  ladies  in  any  predicament  where  mirac- 
ulous interposition  might  be  necessary ;  whilst,  in  the  sim- 
plicity of  his  good  faith,  he  himself  vowed  a  pilgrimage  to  the 
Three  Kings  of  Cologne  in  his  own  proper  person,  provided 
the  simulate  design  of  those  over  whose  safety  he  was  now 
watching  should  be  permitted  by  those  reasonable  and 
royal,  as  well  as  sainted,  personages  to  attain  the  desired 
effect. 

That  he  might  enter  into  this  obligation  with  all  solemnity, 
he  requested  the  friar  to  show  him  into  one  of  the  various 
chapels  which  opened  from  the  main  body  of  the  church  of 
the  convent,  where,  upon  his  knees,  and  with  sincere  devo- 
tion, he  ratified  the  vow  which  he  had  made  internally.  The 
distant  sound  of  the  choir,  the  solemnity  of  the  deep  and 
dead  hour  which  he  had  chosen  for  this  act  of  devotion,  the 
effect  of  the  glimmering  lamp  with  which  the  little  Gothic 
building  was  illuminated,  all  contributed  to  throw  Quentin's 
mind  into  the  state  when  it  most  readily  acknowledges  its 
human  frailty,  and  seeks  that  supernatural  aid  and  protec- 
tion which,  in  every  worship,  must  be  connected  with  repent- 
ance for  past  sins  and  resolutions  of  future  amendment. 
That  the  object  of  his  devotion  was  misplaced  was  not  the 
fault  of  Quentin  ;  and,  its  purpose  being  sincere,  we  can 
scarce  suppose  it  unacceptable  to  the  only  true  Deity,  who 
regards  the  motives  and  not  the  forms  of  prayer,  and  in  whose 


198  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

eyes  the  sincere  devotion  of  a  heathen  is  more  estimable  than 
the  specious  hypocrisy  of  a  Pharisee. 

Having  commended  himself  and  his  helpless  companions 
to  the  saints  and  to  the  keeping  of  Providence,  Quentin  at 
length  retired  to  rest,  leaving  the  friar  much  edified  by  the 
depth  and  sincerity  of  his  devotion. 


CHAPTEK  XVIII 

^^,f  PALMISTRY 

When  many  a  merry  tale  and  many  a  song 

Cheer'd  the  rough  road,  we  wish'd  the  rough  road  long. 

The  rough  road,  then,  returning  in  a  round, 

Mock'd  our  enchanted  steps,  for  all  was  fairy  ground. 

Samuel  Johnson. 

By  peep  of  day  Quentin  Durward  had  forsaken  his  little 
cell,  had  roused  the  sleepy  grooms,  and,  with  more  than  his 
wonted  care,  seen  that  everything  was  prepared  for  the  day's 
journey.  Girths  and  bridles,  the  horse  furniture,  and  the 
shoes  of  the  horses  themselves,  were  carefully  inspected  with 
his  own  eyes,  that  there  might  be  as  little  chance  as  possible 
of  the  occurrence  of  any  of  those  casualties  which,  petty  as 
they  seem,  often  interrupt  or  disconcert  traveling.  The 
horses  were  also,  under  his  own  inspection,  carefully  fed,  so 
as  to  render  them  fit  for  a  long  day's  journey,  or,  if  that 
should  be  necessary,  for  a  hasty  flight. 

Quentin  then  betook  himself  to  his  own  chamber,  armed 
himself  with  unusual  care,  and  belted  on  his  sword  with  the 
feeling  at  once  of  approaching  danger  and  of  stern  deter- 
mination to  dare  it  to  the  uttermost. 

These  generous  feelings  gave  him  a  loftiness  of  step  and  a 
dignity  of  manner  which  the  Ladies  of  Croye  had  not  yet 
observed  in  him,  though  they  had  been  highly  pleased  and 
interested  by  the  grace,  yet  naivete,  of  his  general  behavior 
and  conversation,  and  the  mixture  of  shrewd  intelligence 
which  naturally  belonged  to  him,  with  the  simplicity  arising 
from  his  secluded  education  and  distant  country.  He  let 
them  understand  that  it  would  be  necessary  that  they  should 
prepare  for  their  journey  this  morning  rather  earlier  than 
usual ;  and,  accordingly,  they  left  the  convent  immediately 
after  a  morning  repast,  for  which,  as  well  as  the  other  hospital- 
ities of  the  house,  the  ladies  made  acknowledgment  by  a  don- 
ation to  the  altar  befitting  rather  their  rank  than  their  appear- 
ance. But  this  excited  no  suspicion,  as  they  were  supposed 
to  be  Englishwomen  ;  and  the  attribute  of  superior  wealth 
attached  at  that  time  to  the  insular  character  as  strongly  as 
in  our  own  day. 

^  109 


200 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


The  prior  blessed  them  as  they  mounted  to  depart,  and 
congratulated  Quentin  on  the  absence  of  his  heathen  guide, 
"for,"  said  the  venerable  man,  "  better  stumble  in  the  path 
than  be  upheld  by  the  arm  of  a  thief  or  robber." 

Quentin  was  not  quite  of  his  opinion  ;  for,  dangerous  as 
he  knew  the  Bohemian  to  be,  he  thought  he  could  use  his 
services,  and  at  the  same  time  baffle  his  treasonable  purpose, 
now  that  he  saw  clearly  to  what  it  tended.  But  his  anxiety 
upon  this  subject  was  soon  at  an  end,  for  the  little  caval- 
cade was  not  an  hundred  yards  from  the  monastery  and  the 
village  before  Maugrabin  joined  it,  riding  as  usual  on  his 
little  active  and  wild-looking  jennet.  Their  road  led  them 
along  the  side  of  the  same  brook  where  Quentin  had  over- 
heard the  mysterious  conference  of  the  preceding  evening, 
and  Hayraddin  had  not  long  rejoined  them  ere  they  passed 
under  the  very  willow-tree  which  had  afforded  Durward  the 
means  of  concealment  when  he  became  an  unsuspected 
hearer  of  what  then  passed  betwixt  that  false  guide  and  the 
lanzknecht. 

The  recollections  which  the  spot  brought  back  stirred 
Quentin  to  enter  abruptly  into  conversation  with  his  guide, 
whom  hitherto  he  had  scarce  spoken  to. 

''Where  hast  thou  found  night-quarter,  thou  profane 
knave  ?  "  said  the  Scot. 

''  Your  wisdom  may  may  guess  by  looking  on  my  gaber- 
dine," answered  the  Bohemian,  pointing  to  his  dress,  which 
was  covered  with  the  seeds  of  hay. 

''A  good  hay-stack,"  said  Quentin,  ''is  a  convenient  bed 
for  an  astrologer,  and  a  much  better  than  a  heathen  scoffer 
at  our  blessed  religion  and  its  ministers  ever  deserves." 

"It  suited  my  Klepper  better  than  me,  though,"  said 
Hayraddin,  patting  his  horse  on  the  neck,  "for  he  had  food 
and  shelter  at  the  same  time.  The  old  bald  fools  turned 
him  loose,  as  if  a  wise  man^s  horse  could  have  infected  with 
wit  or  sagacity  a  whole  convent  of  asses.  Ivucky  that  Klep- 
per knows  my  whistle,  and  follows  me  as  truly  as  a  hound, 
or  we  had  never  met  again,  and  you  in  your  turn  might  have 
whistled  for  a  guide." 

"  I  have  told  thee  more  than  once,"  said  Durward,  sternly, 
"  to  restrain  thy  ribaldry  when  thou  chancest  to  be  in  worthy 
men's  company,  a  thing  which,  I  believe,  hath  rarely  hap|| 
pened  to  thee  in  thy  life  before  now ;  and  I  promise  iheU 
that,  did  I  hold  thee  as  faithless  a  guide  as  I  esteem  thee 
blasphemous  and  worthless  caitiff,  my  Scottish  dirk  and  th] 
beamenish  heart  had  ere  now  been  acquainted,  althougl 


QUENTm  DURWARi)  201 

tbe  doing  such  a  deed  were  as  ignoble  as  the  sticking  of 
Bwine." 

*'  A  wild  boar  is  near  akin  to  a  sow,"  said  the  Bohemian, 
without  flinching  from  the  sharp  look  with  which  Quentin 
regarded  him  or  altering,  in  the  slightest  degree,  the  caustic 
indifference  which  he  affected  in  his  language;  ^^and  many 
nien,"  he  subjoined,  ''find  both  pride,  pleasure,  and  profit 
in  sticking  them." 

Astonished  at  the  man's  ready  confidence,  and  uncertain 
whether  he  did  not  know  more  of  his  own  history  and  feel- 
ings than  was  pleasant  for  him  to  converse  upon,  Quentin 
broke  off  a  conversation  in  which  he  had  gained  no  advan- 
tage over  Maugrabin,  and  fell  back  to  his  accustomed  post 
beside  the  ladies. 

We  have  already  observed  that  a  considerable  degree  of 
familiarity  had  begun  to  establish  itself  between  them.  The 
elder  countess  treated  him,  being  once  well  assured  of  the 
nobility  of  his  birth,  like  a  favored  equal  ;  and  though  her 
niece  showed  her  regard  to  their  protector  less  freely,  yet, 
under  every  disadvantage  of  bashfulness  and  timidity,  Quen- 
tin thought  he  could  plainly  perceive  that  his  company  and 
conversation  were  not  by  any  means  indifferent  to  her. 

Nothing  gives  such  life  and  soul  to  youthful  gaiety  as  the 
consciousness  that  it  is  successfully  received  ;  and  Quentin 
had  accordingly,  during  the  former  period  of  their  journey, 
amused  his  fair  charge  with  the  liveliness  of  his  conversa- 
tion, and  the  songs  and  tales  of  his  country,  the  former  of 
which  he  sung  in  his  native  language,  while  his  efforts  to 
render  the  latter  into  his  foreign  and  imperfect  French  gave 
rise  to  a  hundred  little  mistakes  and  errors  of  speech,  as  di- 
verting as  the  narratives  themselves.  But  on  this  anxious 
morning  he  rode  beside  the  Ladies  of  Croye  without  any  of 
his  usual  attempts  to  amuse  them,  and  they  could  not  help 
observing  his  silence  as  something  remarkable. 

''  Our  young  companion  has  seen  a  wolf,"  said  the  Lady 
Hamelin,  alluding  to  an  ancient  superstition,*  "and  he  has 
lost  his  tongue  in  consequence." 

''  To  say  I  had  tracked  a  fox  were  nearer  the  mark," 
thought  Quentin,  but  gave  the  reply  no  utterance. 

'*  Are  yon  well.  Seignior  Quentin  ?  "  said  the  Countess 
Tsabelle,  in  a  tone  of  interest  at  which  she  herself  blushed, 
while  she  felt  that  it  was  something  more  than  the  distance 
between  them  warranted. 

"  He  hath  sat  up  carousing  with  the  jolly  friars,  and   the 

*  See  Wolf  Superstition.    Note  27. 


202  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

Lady  Hameline.  The  Scots  are  like  the  Germans,  who 
spend  all  their  mirth  over  the  Rheinwein,  and  bring  only 
their  staggering  steps  to  the  dance  in  the  evening,  and  their 
aching  heads  to  the  ladies'  bower  in  the  morning/' 

''Nay,  gentle  ladies/'  said  Quentin,  ^^I  deserve  not  your 
reproach.  The  good  friars  were  at  their  devotions  almost  all 
night ;  and  for  myself,  my  drink  was  barely  a  cup  of  their 
thinnest  and  most  ordinary  wine/' 

^'  It  is  the  badness  of  his  fare  that  has  put  him  out  ot] 
humor,"  said  the  Countess  Isabelle.  ''  Cheer  up,  Seignioi 
Quentin  ;  and  should  we  ever  visit  my  ancient  Castle  of^ 
Bracquemont  together,  if  I  myself  should  stand  your  cup- 
bearer and^hand  it  to  you,  you  shall  have  a  generous  cup  of 
wine  that  the  like  never  grew  upon  the  vines  of  Hochheim 
or  Johannisberg/' 

"A   glass   of   water,  noble   lady,  from  your  hand ** 

Thus  far  did  Quentin  begin,  but  his  voice  trembled  ;  and 
Isabelle  continued,  as  if  she  had  been  insensible  of  the  tender- 
ness of  the  accentuation,  upon  the  personal  pronoun. 

"  The  wine  was  stocked  in  the  deep  vaults  of  Bracque- 
mont by  my  great-grandfather,  the  Ehinegrave  Godfrey/' 
said  the  Countess  Isabelle. 

"  Who  won  the  hand  of  her  great-grandmother,"  inter- 
jected the  Lady  Hameline,  interrupting  her  niece,  "  by  prov- 
ing himself  the  best  son  of  chivalry,  at  the  great  tournament 
of  Strasbourg.  Ten  knights  were  slain  in  the  lists.  But 
those  days  are  over,  and  no  one  now  thinks  of  encountering 
peril  for  the  sake  of  honor,  or  to  relieve  distressed  beauty/* 

To  this  speech,  which  was  made  in  the  tone  in  which  ai 
modern  beauty,  whose  charms  are  rather  on  the  wane,  mayj 
be  heard  to  condemn  the  rudeness  of  the  present  age,  QuenJ 
tin  took  upon  him  to  reply,  '^  That  there  was  no  lack  of  that^ 
chivalry  which  the  Lady  Hameline  seemed  to  consider  as 
extinct,  and  that,  were  it  eclipsed  everywhere  else,  it  would 
still  glow  in  the  bosoms  of  the  Scottish  gentlemen/' 

"  Hear  him  !"  said  the  Lady  Hameline  ;  "  he  would  havei 
us  believe  that  in  his  cold  and  bleak  country  still  lives  the! 
noble  fire  which  has  decayed  in  France  and  Germany  !  The- 
poor  youth  is  like  a  Swiss  mountaineer,  mad  with  j)artiality;; 
to  his  native  land  ;  he  will  next  tell  us  of  the  vines  andj 
olives  of  Scotland/' 

"No,  madam,"  said  Durward  ;  ''of  the  wine  and  the  oilj 
of  our  mountains  I  can  say  little,  more  than  that  our  swords | 
can   compel   these  rich   productions   as   tribute   from   our 
wealthier  neighbors.     But  for  the  unl^lemi^hed  faith  and, 


QUE N TIN  DURWARD  203 

anfaded  honor  of  Scotland,  I  must  now  put  to  the  proof  how 
far  you  can  repose  trust  in  them,  however  mean  the  in- 
dividual who  can  offer  nothing  more  as  a  pledge  of  your 
'safety." 

*' You  speak  mysteriously — you  know  of  some  pressing  and 
present  danger/'  said  the  Lady  Hameline. 

'*  I  have  read  it  in  his  eye  for  this  hour  past !  "  exclaimed 
the  Lady  Isabelle,  clasping  her  hands.  "  Sacred  Virgin, 
what  will  become  of  us  ?  '^ 

'*  Nothing,  I  hope,  but  what  you  would  desire,''  answered 
Durward.  "  And  now  I  am  compelled  to  ask — gentle  ladies, 
can  you  trust  me  ?  " 

*' Trust  you!"  answered  the  Countess  Hameline,  "cer- 
tainly. But  why  the  question  ?  Or  how  far  do  you  ask  our 
confidence  ?  " 

"I,  on  my  part,"  said  the  Countess  Isabelle,  "trust  you 
implicitly  and  without  condition.  If  you  can  deceive  us, 
Quentin,  I  will  no  more  look  for  truth,  save  in  Heaven." 

"Gentle  lady,"  replied  Durward,  highly  gratified,  "you 
do  me  but  justice.  My  object  is  to  alter  our  route,  by  pro- 
ceeding directly  by  the  left  bank  of  the  Maes  to  Liege,  in- 
stead of  crossing  at  Namur.  This  differs  from  the  order  as- 
signed by  King  Louis  and  the  instructions  given  to  the  guide. 
But  I  heard  news  in  the  monastery  of  marauders  on  the 
right  bank  of  the  Maes,  and  of  the  march  of  Burgundian 
soldiers  to  suppress  them.  Both  circumstances  alarm  me  for 
your  safety.  Have  I  your  permission  so  far  to  deviate  from 
the  route  of  your  journey  ?" 

"  My  ample  and  full  permission,"  answered  the  younger 
lady. 

"  Cousin,"  said  the  Lady  Hameline,  "  I  believe  with  you 
that  the  youth  means  us  well ;  but  bethink  you — we  trans- 
gress the  instructions  of  King  Louis,  so  positively  iterated." 

"And  why  should  we  regard  his  instructions  ?"  said  the 
Lady  Isabelle.  "I  am,  I  thank  Heaven  for  it,  no  subject  of 
his  ;  and,  as  a  suppliant,  he  has  abused  the  confidence  he 
induced  me  to  repose  in  him.  I  would  not  dishonor  this 
young  gentleman  by  weighing  his  word  for  an  instant  against 
the  injunctions  of  yonder  crafty  and  selfish  despot." 

"  Now,  may  God  bless  you  for  that  very  word,  lady,"  said 
Quentin,  joyously ;  "  and  if  I  deserve  not  the  trust  it  ex- 
presses, tearing  with  wild  horses  in  this  life,  and  eternal  tor- 
tures in  the  next,  were  e'en  too  good  for  my  deserts." 

So  saying,  he  spurred  his  horse  and  rejoined  the  Bohemian. 
This  worthy  seemed  of  a  remarkably  passive  if  not  a  forgiv 


204  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

ing,  temper.  Injury  or  threat  never  dwelt,  or  at  least  seemed 
not  to  dwell,  on  his  recollection  ;  and  he  entered  into  the 
conversation  which  Durward  presently  commenced  just  as  if 
there  had  been  no  unkindly  word  betwixt  them  in  the  course 
of  the  morning. 

'^  The  dog,"*'  thought  the  Scot,  "  snarls  not  now,  because  he 
intends  to  clear  scores  with  me  at  once  and  forever,  when  he 
can  snatch  me  by  the  very  throat ;  but  we  will  try  for  once 
whether  we  cannot  foil  a  traitor  at  his  own  weapons.  Honest 
Hayraddin,"  he  said,  *'thou  hast  traveled  with  us  for  ten 
days,  yet  hast  never  shown  us  a  specimen  of  your  skill  in  for- 
tune-telling ;  which  you  are,  nevertheless,  so  fond  of  practis- 
ing, that  you  must  needs  display  your  gifts  in  every  convent 
at  which  we  stop,  at  the  risk  of  being  repaid  by  a  night's 
lodging  under  a  hay-stack. '' 

"  You  have  never  asked  me  for  a  specimen  of  my  skill," 
said  the  gipsy.  "You  are  like  the  rest  of  the  world,  con- 
tented to  ridicule  those  mysteries  which  they  do  not  under- 
stand.'' 

*'  Give  me  then  a  present  proof  of  your  skill,''  said  Quen- 
tin  ;  and,  ungloving  his  hand,  he  held  it  out  to  the  Zingaro. 

Hayraddin  carefully  regarded  all  the  lines  which  crossed 
each  other  on  the  Scotchman's  palm,  and  noted,  with  equally 
scrupulous  attention,  the  little  risings  or  swellings  at  the  roots 
of  the  fingers,  which  were  then  believed  as  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  disposition,  habits,  and  fortunes  of  the  in- 
dividual as  the  organs  of  the  brain  are  pretended  to  be  in  our 
own  time. 

*'  Here  is  a  hand,"  said  Hayraddin,  "  which  speaks  of  toils 
endured  and  dangers  encountered.  I  read  in  it  an  early 
acquaintance  with  the  hilt  of  the  sword  ;  and  yet  some  ac- 
quaintance also  with  the  clasps  of  the  mass-book." 

**This  of  my  past  life  you  may  have  learned  elsewhere," 
said  Quentin  ;  '^^tell  me  something  of  the  future." 

"  This  line  from  the  hill  of  Venus,"  said  the  Bohemian, 
"not  broken  off  abruptly,  but  attending  and  accompanying 
the  line  of  life,  argues  a  certain  and  large  fortune  by  mar- 
riage, whereby  the  party  shall  be  raised  among  the  wealthy 
and  the  noble  by  the  influence  of  successful  love." 

"  Such  promises  you  make  to  all  who  ask  your  advice," 
said  Quentin  ;  "  they  are  part  of  your  art." 

"What  I  tell  you  is  as  certain,"  said  Hayraddin,  "as  that 
you  shall  in  a  brief  space  be  menaced  with  mighty  danger  ; 
which  I  infer  from  this  bright  blood-red  line  cutting  the  table- 
line  transversely,  and  intimating  stroke  of  sword  or  other 


Q  UEN  TIN  D  UR  WA  RD  206 

violence,  from  which  you  shall  only  be  saved  by  the  attach- 
ment of  a  faithful  friend/" 

'^Thyself,  ha?"  said  Quentin,  somewhat  indignant  that 
the  chiromantist  should  thus  practise  on  his  credulity,  and 
endeavor  to  found  a  reputation  by  predicting  the  conse- 
quences of  his  own  treachery. 

''  My  art,"  replied  the  Zingaro,  ^'  tells  me  naught  that  con- 
cerns myself." 

''  In  this  then  the  seers  of  my  land,"  said  Quentin,  '^  excel 
your  boasted  knowledge  ;  for  their  skill  teaches  them  the 
dangers  by  which  they  are  themselves  beset.  I  left  not  my 
hills  without  having  felt  a  portion  of  the  double  vision  with 
which  their  inhabitants  are  gifted  ;  and  I  will  give  thee  a 
proof  of  it,  in  exchange  for  thy  specimen  of  palmistry.  Hay- 
raddin,  the  danger  which  threatens  me  lies  on  the  right  bank 
of  the  river  ;  I  will  avoid  it  by  traveling  to  Liege  on  the  left 
bank." 

The  guide  listened  with  an  apathy  which,  knowing  that 
circumstances  in  which  Maugrabin  stood,  Quentin  could  not 
by  any  means  comprehend.  ^'  If  you  accomplish  your  pur- 
pose," was  the  Bohemian's  reply,  '^the  dangerous  crisis  will 
be  transferred  from  your  lot  to  mine." 

*'  I  thought,"  said  Quentin,  ^'that  you  said  but  now  that 
you  could  not  presage  your  own  fortune  ?  " 

'^  Not  in  the  manner  in  which  I  have  but  now  told  you 
yours,"  answered  Ilayraddin  ;  ^^but  it  requires  little  knowl- 
edge of  Louis  of  Valois  to  presage  that  he  will  hang  your 
guide  because  your  pleasure  was  to  deviate  from  the  road 
which  he  recommended." 

'^  The  attaining  with  safety  the  purpose  of  the  journey, 
and  ensuring  its  happy  termination,"  said  Quentin,  '^  must 
atone  for  a  deviation  from  the  exact  line  of  the  prescribed 
route." 

^^Ay,"  replied  the  Bohemian,  '*  if  you  are  sure  that  the 
King  had  in  his  own  eye  the  same  termination  of  the  pilgrim- 
age which  he  insinuated  to  you." 

*'And  of  what  other  termination  is  it  possible  that  he 
could  have  been  meditating  ?  or  why  should  you  suppose  he 
had  any  purpose  in  his  thought  other  than  was  avowed  in  his 
direction?"  inquired  Quentin. 

''  Simply,"  replied  the  Zingaro,  ^'  that  those  who  know 
aught  of  the  most  Christian  King  are  aware  that  the  pur- 
pose about  which  he  is  most  anxious  is  always  that  which 
he  is  least  willing  to  declare.  Let  our  gracious  Louis  send 
twelve  embassies,  and  I  will  forfeit  my  neck  to  the  gallows 


206  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

a  year  before  it  is  due,  if  in  eleven  of  them  there  is  not 
something  at  the  bottom  of  the  ink-horn  more  than  the  pen 
has  written  in  the  letters  of  credence." 

"  I  regard  not  your  foul  suspicion,"  answered  Quentin  ; 
"  my  duty  is  plain  and  peremptory — to  convey  these  ladies 
in  safety  to  Liege  ;  and  I  take  it  on  me  to  think  that  I  best 
discharge  that  duty  in  changing  our  prescribed  route,  and 
keeping  the  left  side  of  the  river  Maes.  It  is  likewise  the 
direct  road  to  Liege.  By  crossing  the  river,  we  should  lose 
time  and  incur  fatigue  to  no  purpose.  Wherefore  should 
we  do  so  ?  " 

^'  Only  because  pilgrims,  as  they  call  themselves,  destined 
for  Cologne,"  said  Hayraddin,  ''  do  not  usually  descend  the 
Maes  so  low  as  Liege  ;  and  that  the  route  of  the  ladies  will 
be  accounted  contradictory  of  their  professed  destination." 

''  If  we  are  challenged  on  that  account,"  said  Quentin, 
*'  we  will  say  that  alarms  of  the  wicked  Duke  of  Gueldres, 
or  of  William  de  la  Marck,  or  of  the  ecorcheurs  and  lanz- 
knechts,  on  the  right  side  of  the  river,  justify  our  holding 
by  the  left,  instead  of  our  intended  route." 

"  As  you  will,  my  good  seignior,"  replied  the  Bohemian. 
''I  am,  for  my  part,  equally  ready  to  guide  you  down  the 
left  as  down  the  right  side  of  the  Maes.  Your  excuse  to 
your  master  you  must  make  out  for  yourself." 

Quentin,  although  rather  surprised,  was  at  the  same  time 
pleased  with  the  ready,  or  at  least  the  unrepugnant,  acquies- 
cence of  Hayraddin  in  their  change  of  route,  for  he  needed 
his  assistance  as  a  guide,  and  yet  had  feared  that  the  dis- 
concerting of  his  intended  act  of  treachery  would  have 
driven  him  to  extremity.  Besides,  to  expel  the  Bohemian 
from  their  society  would  have  been  the  ready  mode  to  bring 
down  William  de  la  Marck,  with  whom  he  was  in  correspon- 
dence, upon  their  intended  route  ;  whereas,  if  Hayraddin 
remained  with  them,  Quentin  thought  he  could  manage  to 
prevent  the  Moor  from  having  any  communication  with 
strangers,  unless  he  was  himself  aware  of  it. 

Abandoning,  therefore,  all  thoughts  of  their  original 
route,  the  little  party  followed  that  by  the  left  bank  of  the 
broad  Maes  so  speedily  and  successfully  that  the  next  day 
early  brought  them  to  the  purposed  end^of  their  journey. 
They  found  that  the  Bishop  of  Liege,  for  the  sake  of  his 
health,  as  he  himself  alleged,  but  rather,  perhaps,  to  avoid 
being  surprised  by  the  numerous  and  mutinous  population 
of  the  city,  had  established  his  residence  in  his  beautiful 
Castle  of  Schonwaldt,  about  a  mile  without  Liege. 


qUENTIN  DURWABB  207 

Just  as  they  approached  the  castle,  they  saw  the  prelate 
returning  in  long  procession  from  the  neighboring  city,  in 
which  he  had  been  officiating  at  the  performance  of  high 
mass.  He  was  at  the  head  of  a  splendid  train  of  religious, 
civil,  and  military  men,  mingled  together,  or,  as  the  old 
ballad-maker  expresses  it — 

With  many  a  cross-bearer  before, 
And  many  a  spear  behind. 

The  procession  made  a  noble  appearance,  as,  winding  along 
the  verdant  banks  of  the  broad  Maes,  it  wheeled  into,  and 
was  as  it  were  devoured  by,  the  hugh  Gothic  portal  of  the 
episcopal  residence. 

But  when  the  party  came  more  near,  they  found  that  cir- 
cumstances around  the  castle  argued  a  doubt  and  sense  of 
insecurity,  which  contradicted  that  display  of  pomp  and 
power  which  they  had  just  witnessed.     Strong  guards  of 
the  bishop's  soldiers  were  heedfully  maintained  all  around 
the  mansion  and  its  immediate  vicinity  ;  and  the  prevailing 
appearance,  in  an  ecclesiastical  residence,  seemed  to  argue  a 
sense  of  danger  in  the  reverend  prelate,  who  found  it  neces- 
sary thus  to  surround  himself  with  all  the  defensive  precau- 
tions of   war.     The  Ladies  of  Croye,  when  announced  by 
Quentin,  were  reverently  ushered  into  the  great  hall,  where 
\  they  met  with  the  most  cordial  reception  from  the  bishop, 
I  who  met  them  there  at  the  head  of  his  little  court.     He 
!  would  not  permit  them  to  kiss  his  hand,  but  welcomed  them 
i  with  a  salute,  which  had  something  in  it  of  gallantry  on  the 
part  of  a  prince  to  fine  women,  and  something  also  of  the 
holy  affection  of  a  pastor  to  the  sisters  of  his  flock. 
j       Louis  of  Bourbon,  the  reigning  Bishop  of  Liege,  was  in 
truth  a  generous  and  kind-hearted  prince,  whose  life  had 
i  not  indeed  been  always  confined,   with  precise  strictness, 
within  the  bounds  of  his  clerical  profession  ;  but  who,  not- 
withstanding, had  uniformly  maintained  the  frank  and  hon- 
I  orable  character  of  the  house  of  Bourbon,  from  which  he 
I  was  descended. 

j  In  later  times,  as  age  advanced,  the  prelate  had  adopted 
I  habits  more  beseeming  a  member  of  the  hierarchy  than  his 
early  reign  had  exhibited,  and  was  loved  among  the  neigh- 
j  boring  j^rinces  as  a  noble  ecclesiastic,  generous  and  magnifi- 
\  cent  in  his  ordinary  mode  of  life,  though  preserving  no 
i  very  ascetic  severity  of  character,  and  governing  with  an 
[  easy  indifference  which,  amid   his  wealthy  and  mutinous 


WAVEBLET  NOVELS 


subjects,  rather  encouraged  than  subdued  rebellious  pu; 
poses. 

The  bishop  was  so  fast  an  ally  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy, 
that  the  latter  claimed  almost  a  joint  sovereignty  in  his 
bishopric,  and  repaid  the  good-natured  ease  with  which  the 
prelate  admitted  claims  which  he  might  easily  have  disputed, 
by  taking  his  part  on  all  occasions,  with  the  determined  and 
furious  zeal  which  was  a  part  of  his  character.  He  used  to 
say,  ''  He  considered  Liege  as  his  own,  the  bishop  as  his 
brother  (indeed  they  might  be  accounted  sach,  in  consequence 
of  the  Duke  having  married  for  his  first  wife  the  bishop's 
sister),  and  that  he  who  annoyed  Louis  of  Bourbon  had  to 
do  with  Charles  of  Burgundy  " — a  threat  which,  considering 
the  character  and  the  power  of  the  prince  who  used  it,  would 
have  been  powerful  with  any  but  the  rich  and  discontented 
city  of  Liege,  where  much  wealth  had,  according  to  the 
ancient  proverb,  made  wit  waver. 

The  prelate,  as  we  have  said,  assured  the  Ladies  of  Croye 
of  such  intercession  as  his  interest  at  the  court  of  Burgundy, 
used  to  the  uttermost,  might  gain  for  them,  and  which,  he 
hoped,  might  be  the  more  effectual,  as  Campo-basso,  from 
some  late  discoveries,  stood  rather  lower  than  formerly  in 
the  Duke's  personal  favor.  He  promised  them  also  such 
protection  as  it  was  in  his  power  to  afford  ;  but  the  sigh  with 
which  he  gave  the  warrant  seemed  to  allow  that  his  power 
was  more  precarious  than  in  words  he  was  willing  to  admit. 

"  At  every  event,  my  dearest  daughters,"  said  the  bishop, 
with  an  air  in  which,  as  in  his  previous  salute,  a  mixture  of 
spiritual  unction  qualified  the  hereditary  gallantry  of  the 
house  of  Bourbon,  ''  Heaven  forbid  I  should  abandon  the 
lamb  to  the  wicked  wolf,  or  noble  ladies  to  the  oppression 
of  faitours.  I  am  a  man  of  peace,  though  my  abode  now 
rings  with  arms ;  but  be  assured  I  will  care  for  your  safety 
as  for  my  own ;  and  should  matters  become  yet  more  dis- 
tracted here,  which,  with  Our  Lady's  grace,  we  trust  will  be 
rather  pacified  than  inflamed,  we  will  provide  for  your  safe- 
conduct  to  Germany  ;  for  not  even  the  will  of  our  brother 
and  protector,  Charles  of  Burgundy,  shall  prevail  with  us 
to  dispose  of  you  in  any  respect  contrary  to  your  own  in- 
clinations. We  cannot  comply  with  your  request  of  sending 
you  to  a  convent ;  for,  alas  !  such  is  the  influence  of  the 
sons  of  Belial  among  the  inhabitants  of  Liege,  that  we  know 
no  retreat  to  which  our  authority  extends,  beyond  the  boundb 
of  our  own  castle  and  the  protection  of  our  soldiery.  But 
here  you  are  most  welcome,  and  your  train  shall  have  all 


J 


qUENTIN  BUR  WARD  209 

honorable  entertainment  ;  especially  this  youth,  whom  you 
recommend  so  particularly  to  our  countenance,  and  on  whom 
in  especial  we  bestow  our  blessing/' 

Quentin  kneeled,  as  in  duty  bound,  to  receive  the  episco- 
pal benediction. 

'*  For  yourselves,'*  proceeded  the  good  prelate,  *'  }[ou  shall 
reside  here  with  my  sister  Isabelle,  a  canoness  of  Triers,  and 
with  whom  you  may  dwell  in  all  honor,  even  under  the  roof 
of  so  gay  a  bachelor  as  the  Bishop  of  Liege/* 

He  gallantly  conducted  the  ladies  to  his  sister's  apartment, 
as  he  concluded  the  harangue  of  welcome ;  and  his  master 
of  the  household,  an  officer  who,  having  taken  deacon's 
orders,  held  something  between  a  secular  and  ecclesiatical 
character,  entertained  Quentin  with  the  hospitality  which 
his  master  enjoined,  while  the  other  personages  of  the  retinue 
of  the  Ladies  of  Croye  were  committed  to  the  inferior  de- 
partments. 

In  this  arrangement  Quentin  could  not  help  remarking, 
that  the  presence  of  the  Bohemian,  so  much  objected  to  m 
country  convents,  seemed,  in  the  household  of  this  wealthy, 
and  perhaps  we  might  say  worldly,  prelate,  to  attract  neither 
objection  nor  remark. 
14 


— nJTol  ioa  i;  uii  .wobiiiv  Qdysii  l\'ii\ 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  CITY 

Good  friends,  sweet  friends,  let  me  not  stir  you  up 
To  any  sudden  act  of  mutiny  1 

Julius  Ccesar, 

Separated  from  the  Lady  Isabelle,  whose  looks  had  been 
for  so  many  days  his  loadstar,  Quentin  felt  a  strange  vacancy 
and  chillness  of  the  heart,  which  he  had  not  yet  experienced 
in  any  of  the  vicissitudes  to  which  his  life  had  subjected 
him.  No  doubt  the  cessation  of  the  close  and  unavoidable 
intercourse  and  intimacy  betwixt  them  was  the  necessary 
consequence  of  the  countess  having  obtained  a  place  of 
settled  residence ;  for,  under  what  pretext  could  she,  had 
she  meditated  such  an  impropriety,  have  had  a  gallant 
young  squire  such  as  Quentin  in  constant  attendance  upon 
ner  ? 

But  the  shock  of  the  separation  was  not  the  more  welcome 
that  it  seemed  unavoidable,  and  the  proud  heart  of  Quentin 
swelled  at  finding  he  was  parted  with  like  an  ordinary  pos- 
tilion, or  an  escort  whose  duty  is  discharged  ;  while  his  eyes 
sympathized  so  far  as  to  drop  a  secret  tear  or  two  over  the 
ruins  of  all  those  airy  castles,  so  many  of  which  he  had  em- 
ployed himself  in  constructing  during  their  too  interesting 
journey.  He  made  a  manly,  but  at  first  a  vain,  effort  to 
throw  off  this  mental  dejection  ;  and  so,  yielding  to  the 
feelings  he  could  not  suppress,  he  sat  him  down  in  one  of 
the  deep  recesses  formed  by  a  window  which  lighted  the 
great  Gothic  hall  of  Schonwaldt,  and  there  mused  upon  his 
hard  fortune,  which  had  not  assigned  him  rank  or  wealth 
sufficient  to  prosecute  his  daring  suit. 

Quentin  tried  to  dispel  the  sadness  which  overhung  him 
by  despatching  Chatlet,  one  of  the  valets,  with  letters  to  the 
court  of  Louis,  announcing  the  arrival  of  the  Ladies  of 
Croye  at  Liege.  At  length  his  natural  buoyancy  of  temper 
returned,  much  excited  by  the  title  of  an  old  romaunt  which 
had  been  just  printed  at  Strasbourg,  and  which  lay  beside 
him  in  the  window,  the  title  of  which  set  forth — 

210. 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  211 

How  the  squire  of  lowe  degree, 

Loved  the  king's  daughter  of  Hongarie.* 

While  he  was  tracing  the  *'  letters  blake  "  of  the  ditty  so 
congenial  to  his  own  situation,  Quentin  was  interrupted  by 
a  touch  on  the  shoulder,  and,  looking  up,  beheld  the  Bo- 
hemian standing  by  him. 

Hayraddin,  never  a  welcome  sight,  was  odious  from  his 
Jate  treachery,  and  Quentin  sternly  asked  him,  "  Why  he 
dared  take  the  freedom  to  touch  a  Christian  and  a  gentle- 
man." 

*' Simply,"  answered  the  Bohemian,  *' because  I  wished 
to  know  if  the  Christian  gentleman  had  lost  his  feeling  as 
well  as  his  eyes  and  ears.  I  have  stood  speaking  to  you 
tliese  five  minutes,  and  you  have  stared  on  that  scrap  of 
yellow  paper  as  if  it  were  a  spell  to  turn  you  into  a  statue, 
and  had  already  wrought  half  its  purpose." 

'*  Well,  wh:ib  dost  thou  want  ?     Speak,  and  begone  !" 
"  I  want  what  all  men  want,  though  few  are  satisfied  with 
it,"  said  Hayraddin  :  ''  I  want  my  due — my  ten  crowns  of 

,  gold  for  guiding  the  ladies  hither." 

:  ^*  With  what  face  darest  thou  ask  any  guerdon  beyond  my 
sparing  thy  worthless  life  ?"  said  Dur ward,  fiercely  ;    *^thou 

I  knowest  that  it  was  thy  purpose  to  have  betrayed  them  on 

!  the  road." 

[  *'  But  1  did  not  betray  them,"  said  Hayraddin  ;  *'  if  I  had, 
I  would  have  asked  no  guerdon  from  you  or  from  them,  but 

1-  from  him  whom  their  keeping  upon  the  ri^^ht-hand  side  of 

i;  tbf^   river   might   have   benefited.     The   party  that  I  have 

i  served  is  the  party  who  must  pay  me.'' 

:  "  Thy  guerdon  perish  with  thee,  then,  traitor  ! "  said 
Quentin,  telling  out  the  money.  '*  Get  thee  to  the  Boar  of 
Ardennes,  or  to  the  devil  !  but  keep  hereafter  out  of  my 
sight,  lest  I  send  thee  thither  before  thy  time." 

''  The  Boar  of  Ardennes  !  "  repeated  the  Bohemian,  with 
a  stronger  emotion  of  surprise  than  his  features  usually  ex- 
pressed ;  '*  it  was  then  no  vague  guess — no  general  suspicion 
— which  made  you  insist  on  changing  the  road  ?  Can  it 
be — are  there  really  in  other  lands  arts  of  prophecy  more 
sure  than  those  of  our  wandering  tribes  ?  The  willow-tree 
under  which  we  spoke  could  tell  no  tales.     But  no — no — 

no Dolt  that  I  was  !  I  have  it — I  have  it  !     The  willow 

by  the  brook  near  yonder  convent — I  saw  you  look  towards 
it  as  you  passed  it,  about  half  a  mile  from  yon  hive  of  drones 

*SeeNoto28. 


212  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

— that  could  not  indeed  speak,  but  it  might  hide  one  who 
could  hear  !  I  will  hold  my  councils  in  an  open  plain  hence- 
forth ;  not  a  bunch  of  thistles  shall  be  near  me  for  a  Scot  to 
shroud  amongst.  Ha  !  ha  !  the  Scot  hath  beat  the  Zingaro 
at  his  own  subtle  weapons.  But  know,  Quentin  Durward, 
that  you  have  foiled  me  to  the  marring  of  thine  own  fortune. 
Yes  !  the  fortune  I  told  thee  of,  from  the  lines  on  thy  hand, 
had  been  richly  accomplished  but  for  thine  own  obstinacy. '' 

''By  St.  Andrew/'  said  Quentin,  ''thy  impudence  makes 
me  laugh  in  spite  of  myself.  How  or  in  what  should  thy 
successful  villainy  have  been  of  service  to  me  ?  I  heard, 
indeed,  that  you  did  stipulate  to  save  my  life,  which  condi- 
tion your  worthy  allies  would  speedily  have  forgotten  had  we 
once  come  to  blows  ;  but  in  what  thy  betrayal  of  these  ladies 
could  have  served  me,  but  by  exposing  me  to  death  or  cap- 
tivity, is  a  matter  be^rond  human  brains  to  conjecture." 

"  No  matter  thinking  of  it,  then,'*  said  Hayraddin,  "  for 
I  mean  still  to  surprise  you  with  my  gratitude.  Had  you 
kept  back  my  hire,  I  should  have  held  that  we  were  quit, 
and  had  left  you  to  your  own  foolish  guidance.  As  it  is,  I 
remain  your  debtor  for  vender  matter  on  the  banks  of  the 
Cher." 

"  Methinks  I  have  already  taken  out  the  payment  in  curs- 
ing and  abusing  thee/'  said  Quentin. 

"  Hard  words  or  kind  ones,"  said  the  Zingaro,  "are  but 
wind,  which  make  no  weight  in  the  balance.  Had  you 
struck  me,  indeed,  instead  of  threatening " 

"  I  am  likely  enough  to  take  out  payment  in  that  way,  if 
you  provoke  me  longer." 

"I  would  not  advise  it,"  said  the  Zingaro;  "such  pay- 
ment, made  by  a  rash  hand,  might  exceed  the  debt,  and 
unhappily  leave  a  balance  on  your  side,  which  I  am  not  one 
to  forget  or  forgive.  And  now  farewell,  but  not  for  a  long 
space  ;  I  go  to  bid  adieu  to  the  Ladies  of  Croye." 

"  Thou,"  said  Quentin  in  astonishment — "  tliou  be  ad- 
mitted to  the  presence  of  the  ladies,  and  here,  where  they 
are  in  a  manner  recluses  under  the  protection  of  the  bishop's 
sister,  a  noble  canoness  !     It  is  impossible." 

"  Marthon,  however,  waits  to  conduct  me  to  their  pres- 
ence/'said  the  Zingaro,  with  a  sneer;  "and  I  must  pray 
your  forgiveness  if  I  leave  you  something  abruptly." 

He  turned  as  if  to  depart,  but  instantly  coming  back.,  said, 
with  a  tone  of  deep  and  serious  emphasis,  "I  know  your 
hopes  ;  they  are  daring,  yet  not  vain  if  I  aid  them.  I  know 
your  fears  ;    they  should  teach  prudence,   not  timidity. 


QUENTJN  DURWABD  218 

Every  woman  may  be  won.  A  count  is  but  a  nickname, 
which  will  befit  Quentin  as  well  as  the  other  nickname  of 
duke  befits  Charles,  or  that  of  king  befits  Louis/' 

Ere  Durward  could  reply,  the  Bohemian  had  left  the  hall. 
Quentin  instantly  followed  ;  but,  better  acquainted  than  the 
Scot  with  the  passages  of  the  house,  Hayraddin  kept  the  ad- 
vantage which  he  had  gotten  ;  and  the  pursuer  lost  sight  of 
him  as  he  descended  a  small  back  staircase.  Still  Durward 
followed,  though  without  exact  consciousness  of  his  own 
purpose  in  doing  so.  The  staircase  terminated  by  a  door 
opening  into  the  alley  of  a  garden,  in  which  he  again  beheld 
the  Zingaro  hastening  down  a  pleached  walk. 

On  two  sides,  the  garden  was  surrounded  by  the  buildings 
of  the  castle — a  huge  old  pile,  partly  castellated  and  partly 
resembling  an  ecclesiastical  building  ;  on  the  other  two  sides, 
the  inclosure  was  a  high  embattled  wall.     Crossing  the  al- 
leys of  the  garden  to  another  part  of  the  building,  where  a 
postern-door  opened  behind  a  large  massive  buttress,  over- 
grown with  ivy,  Hayraddin  looked  back,  and  waved  his  hand 
in  signal  of  an  exulting  farewell  to  his  follower,  who  saw 
that  in  effect  the  postern-door  was  open  by  Marthon,  and 
I  that  the  vile  Bohemian  was  admitted  into  the  precincts,  as 
I  he  naturally  concluded,  of  the  apartment  of  the  Countesses 
i  of  Croye.    Quentin  bit  his  lips  with  indignation,  and  blamed 
himself  severely  that  he  had  not  made  the  ladies  sensible  of 
'  the  full  infamy  of  Hayraddin's  character,  and  acquainted 
;  with  his  machinations  against  their  safety.     The  arrogating 
i  manner  in  which  the  Bohemian  had  promised  to  back  his 
i  suit  added  to  his  anger  and  his  disgust  ;  and  he  felt  as  if 
'  even  the  hand  of  the  Countess  Isabelle  would  be  profaned, 
i  were  it  possible  to  attain  it  by  such  patronage.     ''  But  it  is 
j'  all  a  deception,'^  he  said — ''  a  turn  of  his  base  juggling  arti- 
I  fice.    He  has  procured  access  to  these  ladies  upon  some  false 
I  pretence,  and  with  some  mischievous  intention.    It  is  well  I 
\  have  learned  where  they  lodge.     I  will  watch  Marthon,  and 
i  solicit  an  interview  with  them,  were  it  but  to  place  them  on 
f  their  guard.     It  is  hard  that  I  must  use  artifice  and  brook 
I  delay  when  such  as  he  have  admittance  openly  and  without 
I  scruple.     They  shall  find,  however,  that,  though  I  am  ex- 
i  eluded  from  their  presence,  Isabelle's  safety  is  still  the  chief 
I  subject  of  my  vigilance.'' 

I  While  the  young  lover  was  thus  meditating,  an  aged 
^  gentleman  of  the  bishop's  household  approached  him  from 
•  the  same  door  by  which  he  had  himself  entered  the  garden, 
M  and  made  him  aware,  though  with  the  g^reatest  civility  of 


214  WAVEttLEY  NOVELS 

manner,  that  the  garden  was  private,  and  reserved  only  for 
the  use  of  the  bishop  and  guests  of  the  very  highest  distinc- 
tion. 

Quentin  heard  him  repeat  this  inforitaation  twice  ei'e  he 
put  the  proper  construction  upon  it ;  and  then  starting  as 
from  a  reverie,  he  bowed  and  hurried  out  of  the  garden,  the 
official  person  following  him  all  the  way,  and  overwhelming 
him  with  formal  apologies  for  the  necessary  discharge  of  his 
duty.  Nay,  so  pertinacious  was  he  in  his  attempts  to  remove 
the  offense  which  he  conceived  Durward  to  have  taken,  that 
he  offered  to  bestoW  his  own  company  upon  him,  to  contri- 
bute to  his  entertainment  ;  until  Quentin,  internally  cursing 
his  formal  foppery,  found  no  better  way  of  escape  than 
pretending  a  desire  of  visiting  the  neighboring  city,  and  set- 
ting off  thither  at  such  a  round  pace  as  speedily  subdued  all 
desire  in  the  gentleman-usher  to  accompany  him  farther  than 
the  drawbridge.  In  a  few  minutes  Quentin  was  within  the 
walls  of  the  city  of  Liege,  then  one  of  the  richest  in  Flanders, 
and  of  course  in  the  world. 

Melancholy,  even  love-melancholy,  is  not  so  deeply  seated, 
at  least  in  minds  of  a  manly  and  elastic  character,  as  the  soft 
enthusiasts  who  suffer  under  it  are  fond  of  believing.  It 
yields  to  unexpected  and  striking  impressions  upon  the  senses, 
to  change  of  place,  to  such  scenes  as  create  new  trains  of 
association,  and  to  the  influence  of  the  busy  hum  of  mankind. 
In  a  few  minutes,  Quentin's  attention  was  as  much  engrossed 
by  the  variety  of  objects  presented  in  rapid  succession  by  the 
busy  streets  of  Liege  as  if  there  had  neither  been  a  Countess 
Isabelle  nor  a  Bohemian  in  the  world. 

The  lofty  houses  ;  the  stately,  though  narrow  and  gloomy, 
streets  ;  the  splendid  display  of  the  richest  goods  and  most 
gorgeous  armor  in  the  warehouses  and  shops  around  ;  the 
walks  crowded  by  busy  citizens  of  every  description,  passing 
and  repassing  with  faces  of  careful  importance  or  eager 
bustle  ;  the  huge  wains,  which  transported  to  and  fro  the 
subjects  of  export  and  import,  the  former  consisting  of 
broadcloths  and  serge,  arms  of  all  kinds,  nails  and  iron-work, 
while  the  latter  comprehended  every  article  of  use  or  luxury 
intended  either  for  the  consumption  of  an  opulent  city  or 
received  in  barter  and  destined  to  be  transported  elsewhere 
— all  these  objects  combined  to  form  an  engrossing  picture 
of  wealth,  bustle,  and  splendor,  to  which  Quentin  had  been 
hitherto  a  stranger.  He  admired  also  the  various  streams 
and  canals  drawn  from  and  communicating  with  the  Maes, 
which,  traversing  the  city  in  various  directions,  offered  to 


QUHNTtN  DtriiWAnD  215 

every  quarter  the  commercial  facilities  of  water-carriage ; 
and  he  failed  not  to  hear  a  mass  in  the  venerable  old  church 
of  St.  Lambert,  said  to  have  been  founded  in  the  8th 
century. 

It  was  upon  leaving  this  place  of  worship  that  Quentin 
began  to  observe  that  he,  who  had  been  hitherto  gazing  on 
all  around  him  with  the  eagerness  of  unrestrained  curiosity, 
was  himself  the  object  of  attention  to  several  groups  of  sub- 
stantial looking  burghers,  who  seemed  assembled  to  look  upon 
him  as  he  left  the  church,  and  amongst  whom  arose  a  buzz 
and  whisper,  which  spread  from  one  party  to  another  ;  while 
the  number  of  gazers  continued  to  augment  rapidly,  and  the 
eyes  of  each  who  added  to  it  were  eagerly  directed  to  Quen- 
tin, with  a  stare  which  expressed  much  interest  and  curiosity, 
mingled  with  a  certain  degree  of  respect. 

At  length  he  now  formed  the  center  of  a  considerable 
crowd,  which  yet  yielded  before  him  while  he  continued  to 
move  forward  ;  while  those  who  followed  or  kept  pace  with 
him  studiously  avoided  pressing  on  him  or  impeding  his 
motions.  Yet  his  situation  was  too  embarrassing  to  be  long 
endured,  without  making  some  attempt  to  extricate  himself, 
and  to  obtain  some  explanation. 

Quentin  looked  around  him,  and  fixing  upon  a  jolly,  stout- 
made,  respectable  man,  whom,  by  his  velvet  cloak  and  gold 
chain,  he  concluded  to  be  a  burgher  of  eminence,  and  perhaps 
a  magistrate,  he  asked  him,  '^  Whether  he  saw  any  thing  par- 
ticular in  his  appearance,  to  attract  public  attention  in  a 
degree  so  unusual  ?  or  whether  it  was  the  ordinary  custom 
of  the  people  of  Liege  thus  to  throng  around  strangers  who 
chanced  to  visit  their  city  ?  " 

"  Surely  not,  good  seignior,*'  answered  the  burgher  ;  ^'  the 
Liegeois  are  neither  so  idly  curious  as  to  practise  such  a 
custom,  nor  is  there  anything  in  your  dress  or  appearance, 
saving  that  which  is  most  welcome  to  this  city,  and  which 
our  townsmen  are  both  delighted  to  see  and  desirous  to 
honor/' 

'^  This  sounds  very  polite,  worthy  sir,''  said  Quentin  ; 
"but,  by  the  cross  of  St.  Andrew,  I  cannot  even  guess  at 
yoar  meaning." 

'^  Your  oath,  sir,"  answered  the  merchant  of  Liege,  **  as 
well  as  your  accent,  convinces  me  that  we  are  right  in  our 
conjecture." 

**  By  my  patron  St.  Quentin  ! "  said  Durward,  "  I  am 
farther  oil  from  your  meaning  than  ever." 

*'  There  again  now,"  rejoined  the  Liegeois,  looking,  as  he 


216  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

spoke,  most  provokingly,  yet  most  civilly,  politic  and  in- 
telligent. ''It  is  surely  not  for  ns  to  see  that  which  you, 
worthy  seignior,  deem  it  proper  to  conceal.  But  why  swear 
by  St.  Quentin,  if  you  would  not  have  me  construe  your 
moaning  ?  We  know  the  good  Count  of  St.  Paul,  who  lies 
there  at  present,  wishes  well  to  our  cause.*' 

''  On  my  life,'*  said  Quentin,  ^'  you  are  under  some  delu- 
sion :  I  know  nothing  of  St.  Paul.'* 

"  Nay,  we  question  you  not,  said  the  burgher ;  although, 
hark  ye — I  say,  hark  in  your  ear — my  name  is  Pavilion." 

''  And  what  is  my  business  with  that.  Seignior  Pavilion  't" 
said  Quentin. 

"  Nay,  nothing  ;  only  methinks  it  might  satisfy  you  that 
I  am  trustworthy.     Here  is  my  colleague  Rouslaer,  too." 

Rouslaer  advanced,  a  corpulent  dignitary>  whose  fair  round 
belly,  like  a  battering-ram,  ''did  shake  the  press  before 
him/'  and  who,  whispering  caution  to  his  neighbor,  said  in 
a  tone  of  rebuke,  "  You  forget,  good  colleague,  the  place  is 
too  open  ;  the  seignior  will  retire  to  your  house  or  mine,  and 
drink  a  glass  of  Rhenish  and  sugar,  and  then  we  shall  hear 
more  of  our  good  friend  and  ally,  whom  we  love  with  all  our 
honest  Flemish  hearts." 

"I  have  no  news  for  any  of  you,"  said  Quentin,  impa- 
tiently ;  "  I  will  drink  no  Rhenish  ;  and  I  only  desire  of  you, 
as  men  of  account  and  respectability,  to  disperse  this  idle 
crowd,  and  allow  a  stranger  to  leave  your  town  as  quietly  as 
he  came  into  it." 

"Nay,  then,  sir,"  said  Rouslaer,  "since  you  stand  so 
much  on  your  incognito,  and  with  us,  too,  who  are  men  of 
confidence,  let  me  ask  you  roundly,  wherefore  wear  you  the 
badge  of  your  company  if  you  would  remain  unknown  in 
Liege  ?  " 

"What  badge  and  what  order?"  said  Quentin.  "You 
look  like  reverend  men  and  grave  citizens,  yet,  on  my  soul, 
you  are  either  mad  yourselves  or  desire  to  drive  me  so." 

"  Sapperment ! "  said  the  other  burgher,  "this  youth 
would  make  St.  Lambert  swear  !  Why,  who  wear  bonnets 
with  the  St.  Andrew's  cross  andflenr-de-lys  save  the  Scottish 
Archers  of  King  Louis's  Guards  ?" 

"  And  supposing  I  am  an  archer  of  the  Scottish  Guard, 
why  should  you  make  a  wonder  of  my  wearing  the  badge  of 
my  company  ?"  said  Quentin,  impatiently. 

"  He  has  avowed  it — he  has  avowed  it !  said  Rouslaer  and 
Pavilion,  turning  to  the  assembled  burghers  in  attitudes  of 
congratulation,  with  waving  arms,  extended  palms,  and  large 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  217 

ronnd  faces  radiating  with  glee.  ''  He  hath  avowed  himself 
an  archer  of  Louisas  Guard — of  Louis,  the  guardian  of  the 
liberties  of  Liege  ! " 

A  general  shout  and  cry  now  arose  from  the  multitude,  in 
which  were  mingled  the  various  sounds  of  "  Long  live  Louis 
of  France  !  Long  live  the  Scottish  Guard  !  Long  live  the 
valiant  archer  !  Our  liberties,  our  privileges,  or  death  !  No 
imposts  !  Long  live  the  valiant  Boar  of  Ardennes  !  Down 
with  Charles  of  Burgundy  !  and  confusion  to  Bourbon  and 
his  bishopric  ! " 

Half-stunned  by  the  noise,  which  began  anew  in  one  quarter 
as  soon  as  it  ceased  in  another,  rising  and  falling  like  the 
billows  of  the  sea,  and  augmented  by  thousands  of  voices 
which  roared  in  chorus  from  distant  streets  and  market- 
places, Quentin  had  yet  time  to  form  a  conjecture  concern- 
ing the  meaning  of  the  tumult,  and  a  plan  for  regulating  his 
own  conduct. 

He  had  forgotten  that,  after  his  skirmish  with  Orleans  and 
Dunois,  one  of  his  comrades  had,  at  Lord  Crawford's  com- 
mand, replaced  the  morion,  cloven  by  the  sword  of  the  latter 
with  one  of  the  steel-lined  bonnets  which  formed  a  part  of 
the  proper  and  well-known  equipment  of  the  Scotch  Guards. 
That  an  individual  of  this  body,  which  was  always  kept  very 
close  to  Louis's  person,  should  have  appeared  in  the  streets 
of  a  city  whose  civil  discontents  had  been  aggravated  by  the 
agents  of  that  kin^,  was  naturally  enough  interpreted  by  the 
burghers  of  Liege  into  a  determination  on  the  part  of  Louis 
openly  to  assist  their  cause  ;  and  the  apparition  of  an  individ- 
ual archer  was  magnilSed  into  a  pledge  of  immediate  and 
active  support  from  Louis — nay,  into  an  assurance  that  his 
auxiliary  forces  were  actually  entering  the  town  at  one  or 
other,  though  no  one  could  distinctly  tell  which,  of  the  city 
gates. 

To  remove  a  conviction  so  generally  adopted,  Quentin 
easily  saw  was  impossible — nay,  that  any  attempt  to  un- 
deceive men  so  obstinately  prepossessed  in  their  belief  would 
be  attended  with  personal  risk,  which,  in  this  case,  he  saw 
little  use  of  incurring.  He  therefore  hastily  resolved  to 
temporize,  and  to  get  free  the  best  way  he  could  ;  and  this 
resolution  he  formed  while  they  were  in  the  act  of  conduct- 
ing him  to  the  stadt-house,  where  the  notables  of  the  town 
were  fast  assembling,  in  order  to  hear  the  tidings  which  he 
was  presumed  to  have  brought,  and  to  regale  him  with  a 
splendid  banquet. 

In  spite  of  all  his  oppositiou,  which  was  set  down  to  mod- 


218  WA  VEBLEY  NO  VELS 

esty,  he  was  ou  every  side  surrounded  by  the  donors  of 
popularity,  the  unsavory  tide  of  which  now  floated  around 
him.  His  two  burgomaster  friends,  who  were  schoppen 
\schoffen\y  or  syndics,  of  the  city,  had  made  fast  both  his 
arms.  Before  him,  Nikkei  Blok,  the  chief  of  the  butcher's 
incorporation,  hastily  summoned  from  his  office  in  the 
shambles,  brandished  his  death-doing  ax,  yet  smeared 
with  blood  and  brains,  with  a  courage  and  grace  which 
hrantwein  alone  could  inspire.  Behind  him  came  the  tall, 
lean,  raw-boned,  very  drunk,  and  very  patriotic,  figure  of 
Claus  Hammerlein,  president  of  the  mystery  of  the  workers 
in  iron,  and  followed  by  at  least  a  thousand  unwashed 
artificers  of  his  class.  Weavers,  nailers,  ropemakers,  artisans 
of  every  degree  fnd  calling,  thronged  forward  to  join  the 
procession  from  every  gloomy  and  narrow  street.  Escape 
seemed  a  desperate  and  impossible  adventure. 

In  this  dilemma,  Quentin  appealed  to  Eouslaer,  who  held 
one  arm,  and  to  Pavilion,  who  had  secured  the  other,  and 
who  were  conducting  him  forward  at  the  head  of  the  ova- 
tion of  which  he  had  so  unexpectedly  become  the  principal 
object.  He  hastily  acquainted  them  *' with  his  having 
thoughtlessly  adopted  the  bonnet  of  the  Scottish  Guard,  on 
an  accident  having  occurred  to  the  head-piece  in  which  he 
had  proposed  to  travel ;  he  regretted  that,  owing  to  this 
circumstance  and  the  sharp  wit  with  which  the  Liegeois 
drew  the  natural  inference  of  his  quality  and  the  purpose 
of  his  visit,  these  things  had  been  publicly  discovered  :  and 
he  intimated  that,  if  just  now  conducted  to  the  stadt-hotise, 
he  might  unhappily  feel  himself  under  the  necessity  of  com- 
municating to  the  assembled  notables  certain  matters  which 
he  was  directed  by  the  King  to  reserve  for  the  private  ears 
of  his  excellent  gossips,  Meinherrs  Rouslaer  and  Pavilion  of 
Leige." 

This  last  hint  operated  like  magic  on  the  two  citizens, 
who  were  the  most  distinguished  leaders  of  the  insurgent 
burghers,  and  were,  like  all  demagogues  of  their  kind,  desir- 
ous to  keep  everything  within  their  own  management,  so 
far  as  possible.  They  therefore  hastily  agreed  that  Quentin 
should  leave  the  town  for  the  time,  and  return  by  night  to 
Liege,  and  converse  with  them  privately  in  the  house  of 
Rouslaer,  near  the  gate  opposite  to  Schonwaldt.  Quentin 
hesitated  not  to  tell  them  that  he  was  at  present  residing  in 
the  bishop's  palace,  under  pretense  of  bearing  despatches 
from  the  French  court,  although  his  real  errand  was,  as  they 
had  well  conjectured,  designed  to  the  citizens  of  Liege; 


qUENTIN  DUBWARD  219 

and  this  tortuous  mode  of  conducting  a  communication,  as 
well  as  the  character  and  rank  of  the  person  to  whom  it  was 
supposed  to  be  entrusted,  was  so  consonant  to  the  character 
of  Louis  as  neither  to  excite  doubt  nor  surprise. 

Almost  immediately  after  this  eclair cissement  was  com- 
pleted, the  progress  of  the  multitude  brought  them  opposite 
to  the  door  of  Pavilion's  house,  in  one  of  the  principal 
streets,  but  which  communicated  from  behind  with  the 
Maes  by  means  of  a  garden,  as  well  as  an  extensive  manu- 
factory of  tan-pits  and  other  conveniences  for  dressing  hides  ; 
for  the  patriotic  burgher  was  a  felt-dresser,  or  currier. 

It  was  natural  that  Pavilion  should  desire  to  do  the  honors 
of  his  dwelling  to  the  supposed  envoy  of  Louis,  and  a  halt 
before  his  house  excited  no  surprise  on  the  part  of  the  mul- 
titude, who,  on  the  contrary,  greeted  Meinherr  Pavilion 
with  a  loud  vivat  as  he  ushered  in  his  distinguished  guest. 
Quentin  speedily  laid  aside  his  remarkable  bonnet  for  the  cap 
of  a  feltmaker,  and  flung  a  cloak  over  his  other  apparel.  Pavil- 
ion then  furnished  him  with  a  passport  to  pass  the  gates  of  the 
city,  and  to  return  by  night  or  day  as  should  suit  his  con- 
venience ;  and,  lastly,  committed  him  to  the  charge  of  his 
daughter,  a  fair  and  smiling  Flemish  lass,  with  instructions 
how  he  was  to  be  disposed  of,  while  he  himself  hastened 
back  to  his  colleague  to  amuse  their  friends  at  the  stadt- 
house  with  the  best  excuses  which  they  could  invent  for  the 
disappearance  of  King  Louis's  envoy.  We  cannot,  as  the 
footman  says  in  the  play,  recollect  the  exact  nature  of  the 
lie  which  the  bellwethers  told  the  flock ;  but  no  task  is  so 
easy  as  that  of  imposing  upon  a  multitude  whose  eager 
prejudices  have  more  than  half  done  the  business,  ere  the 
impostor  has  spoken  a  word. 

The  worthy  burgess  was  no  sooner  gone  than  his  plump 
daughter,  Trudchen,  with  many  a  blush  and  many  a 
wreathed  smile,  which  suited  very  prettily  with  lips  like 
cherries,  laughing  blue  eyes,  and  a  skin  transparently  pure, 
escorted  the  handsome  stranger  through  the  pleached  alleys 
of  the  Sieur  Pavilion's  garden,  down  to  the  water-side,  and 
there  saw  him  fairly  embarked  in  a  boat,  which  two  stout 
Flemings,  in  their  trunkhose,  fur  caps,  and  many-buttoned 

i'erkins,  had  got  in  r^eadiness  with  as  much  haste  as  their 
jow-Country  nature  would  permit. 

As  the  pretty  Trudchen  spoke  nothing  but  German,  Quen- 
tin— no  disparagement  to  his  loyal  affection  to  the  Countess 
Croye — could  only  express  his  thanks  by  a  kiss  on  those 
same  cherry  lips,  which  was  very  gallantly  bestowed,  and 


220  WAVEELET  NOVELS 

accepted  with  all  modest  gratitude  ;  for  gallants  with  a 
form  and  face  like  our  Scottish  Archer  were  not  of  every- 
day occurrence  among  the  bourgeoisie  of  Liege. 

While  the  boat  was  rowed  up  the  sluggish  waters  of  the 
Maes,  and  passed  the  defenses  of  the  town,  Quentin  had 
time  enough  to  reflect  what  account  he  ought  to  give  of  his 
adventure  in  Liege,  when  he  returned  to  the  bishop's  palace 
of  Schonwaldt ;  and  disdaining  alike  to  betray  any  person 
who  had  reposed  confidence  in  him,  although  by  misap- 
prehension, or  to  conceal  from  the  hospitable  prelate  the 
mutinous  state  of  his  capital,  he  resolved  to  confine  himself 
to  so  general  an  account  as  might  put  the  bishop  upon 
his  guard,  while  it  should  point  out  no  individual  to  his 
vengeance. 

He  was  landed  from  the  boat  within  half  a  mile  of  the 
castle,  and  rewarded  his  rowers  with  a  guilder,  to  their  great 
satisfaction.  Yet,  short  as  was  the  space  which  divided  him 
from  Schonwaldt,  the  castle  bell  had  tolled  for  dinner,  and 
Quentin  found,  moreover,  that  he  had  approached  the  castle 
on  a  different  side  from  that  of  the  principal  entrance,  and 
that  to  go  round  would  throw  his  arrival  considerably  later. 
He  therefore  made  straight  towards  the  side  that  was  nearest 
him,  as  he  discerned  that  it  presented  an  embattled  wall, 
probably  that  of  the  little  garden  already  noticed,  with  a 
postern  opening  upon  the  moat,  and  a  skiff  moored  by  the 
postern,  which  might  serve,  he  thought,  upon  summons,  to 
pass  him  over.  As  he  approached,  in  hopes  to  make  his 
entrance  this  way,  the  postern  opened,  a  man  came  out,  and, 
jumping  into  the  boat,  made  his  way  to  the  farther  side  of 
the  moat,  and  then  with  a  long  pole  pushed  the  skiff  back 
towards  the  place  where  he  had  embarked.  As  he  came 
near,  Quentin  discerned  that  this  person  was  the  Bohemian, 
who,  avoiding  him,  as  was  not  difficult,  held  a  different  path 
towards  Liege,  and  was  presently  out  of  his  ken. 

Here  was  new  subject  for  meditation.  Had  this  vagabond 
heathen  been  all  this  while  with  the  Ladies  of  Oroye,  and 
for  what  purpose  should  they  so  far  have  graced  him  with 
their  presence  ?  Tormented  with  this  thought,  Durward 
became  doubly  determined  to  seek  an  explanation  with  them, 
for  the  purpose  at  once  of  laying  bare  the  treachery  of 
Hayraddin  and  announcing  to  them  the  perilous  state  in 
which  their  protector,  the  bishop,  was  placed  by  the  mutinous 
state  of  his  town  of  Liege.* 

As  Quentin  thus  resolved,  he  entered  the  castle  by  the 

*  See  Quentin'B  Adventiire  at  Liege.    Note  29. 


QUENTIN  DURWARD       *  221 

principal  gate,  and  found  that  part  of  the  family  who  as- 
sembled for  dinner  in  the  great  hall,  including  the  bishop's 
attendant  clergy,  officers  of  the  household,  and  strangers 
below  the  rank  of  the  very  first  nobility,  were  already  placed 
at  their  meal.  A  seat  at  the  upper  end  of  the  board  had, 
however,  been  reserved  beside  the  bishop's  domestic  chaplain, 
who  welcomed  the  stranger  with  the  old  college  jest  of 
'' Sero  venientibus  ossa,"  while  he  took  care  so  to  load  his 
plate  with  dainties  as  to  take  away  all  appearance  of  that 
tendency  to  reality  which,  in  Quentin's  country,  is  said  to 
render  a  joke  either  no  joke  or  at  best  an  unpalatable  one.* 

In  vindicating  himself  from  the  suspicion  of  ill-breeding, 
Quentin  briefly  described  the  tumult  which  had  been  oc- 
casioned in  the  city  by  his  being  discovered  to  belong  to  the 
Scottish  Archer  Guard  of  Louis,  and  endeavored  to  give  a 
ludicrous  turn  to  the  narrative,  by  saying  that  he  had  been 
with  difficulty  extricated  by  a  fat  burgher  of  Liege  and  his 
pretty  daughter. 

But  the  company  were  too  much  interested  in  the  story  to 
taste  the  jest.  All  operations  of  the  table  were  suspended 
while  Quentin  told  his  tale  ;  and  when  he  had  ceased,  there 
was  a  solemn  pause,  which  was  only  broken  by  the  major- 
domo  saying,  in  a  low  and  melancholy  tone,  "  I  would  to 
God  that  we  saw  those  hundred  lances  of  Burgundy  !  " 

*'  Why  should  you  think  so  deeply  on  it  ?  "  said  Quentin. 
*' You  have  many  soldiers  here,  whose  trade  is  arms;  and 
your  antagonists  are  only  the  rabble  of  a  disorderly  city, 
who  will  fly  before  the  first  flutter  of  a  banner  with  men-at- 
arms  arrayed  beneath  it." 

"  You  do  not  know  the  men  of  Liege/'  said  the  chaplain, 
"  of  whom  it  may  be  said  that,  not  even  excepting  those  of 
Ghent,  they  are  at  once  the  fiercest  and  the  most  untameable 
in  Europe.  Twice  has  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  chastised  them 
for  their  repeated  revolts  against  their  bishop,  and  twice 
hath  he  suppressed  them  with  much  severity,  abridged  their 
privileges,  taken  away  their  banners,  and  established  rights 
and  claims  to  himself  which  were  not  before  competent  over  a 
free  city  of  the  Empire.  Nay,  the  last  time  he  defeated  them 
with  much  slaughter  near  St.  Tron,  where  Liege  lost  nearly 
six  thousand  men,  what  with  the  sword,  what  with  those 
drowned  in  the  flight ;  and,  thereafter,  to  disable  them  from 
farther  mutiny,  Duke  Charles  refused  to  enter  at  any  of  the 
gates  which  they  had  surrendered,  but,  beating  to  the 
ground  forty  cubits  breadth  of  their  city  wall,  marched  into 

♦*'  A  sooth  boord  (true  joke)  is  no  boord,"  says  the  Soot. 


222 


WAVERLET  NOVELS 


Liege  as  a  conqueror,  with  visor  closed  and  lance  in  rest, 
at  the  head  of  his  chivalry,  by  the  breach  which  he  had 
made.  Nay,  well  were  the  Liegeois  then  assured  that,  but 
for  the  intercession  of  his  father,  Duke  Philip  the  Good, 
this  Charles,  then  called  Count  of  Charalois,  would  have 
given  their  town  up  to  spoil.  And  yet,  with  all  these  fresh 
recollections,  with  their  breaches  unrepaired,  and  their 
arsenals  scarcely  supplied,  the  sight  of  an  archer's  bonnet  is 
sufficient  again  to  stir  them  to  uproar.  May  God  amend 
all  !  but  I  fear  there  will  be  bloody  work  between  so  fierce  a 
population  and  so  fiery  a  sovereign  ;  and  I  would  my  excel- 
lent and  kind  master  had  a  see  of  lesser  dignity  and  more 
safety,  for  his  miter  is  lined  with  thorns  instead  of  ermine. 
This  much  I  say  to  you,  seignior  stranger,  to  make  you 
aware  that,  if  your  affairs  detain  you  not  at  Schonwaldt,  it 
is  a  place  from  which  each  man  of  sense  should  depart  as 
speedily  as  possible.  I  apprehend  that  your  ladies  are  of 
the  same  opinion  ;  for  one  of  the  grooms  who  attended  them 
on  the  route  has  been  sent  back  by  them  to  the  court  of 
France  with  letters,  which,  doubtless,  are  intended  to  an- 
nounce their  going  in  search  of  a  safer  asylum/' 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE   BILLET 

Qo  to — thou  art  made,  if  thou  desirest  to  be  so.  If  not,  let  me  see 
thee  still  the  feUow  of  servants,  and  not  fit  to  touch  Fortune's 
nngers. 

Twelfth  Night. 

When"  the  tables  were  drawn,  the  chaplain,  who  seemed  to 
have  taken  a  sort  of  attachment  to  Quentin  Durward's 
society,  or  who  perhaps  desired  to  extract  from  him  farther 
information  concerning  the  meeting  of  the  morning,  led  him 
into  a  withdra wing-apartment,  the  windows  of  which,  on 
one  side,  projected  into  the  garden  ;  and  as  he  saw  his  com- 
panion's eye  gaze  rather  eagerly  upon  the  spot,  he  proposed 
to  Quentin  to  go  down  and  take  a  view  of  the  curfous  foreign 
shrubs  with  which  the  bishop  had  enriched  its  parterres. 

Quentin  excused  himself,  as  unwilling  to  intrude,  and 
therewithal  comniunicated  the  check  which  he  had  received 
in  the  morning.  The  chaplain  smiled,  and  said,  "  That 
there  was  indeed  some  ancient  prohibition  respecting  the 
bishop's  private  garden  ;  but  this,"  he  added,  with  a  smile, 
'^  was  when  our  reverend  father  was  a  princely  young  prel- 
ate of  not  more  than  thirty  years  of  age,  and  when  many 
fair  ladies  frequented  the  castle  for  ghostly  consolation. 
Need  there  was/'  he  said,  with  a  downcast  look,  and  a  smile, 
half  simple  and  half  intelligent,  "  that  these  ladies,  pained 
in  conscience,  who  were  ever  lodged  in  the  apartments  now 
occupied  by  the  noble  canoness,  should  have  some  space  for 
taking  the  air,  secure  from  the  intrusion  of  the  profane. 
But  of  late  years,"  he  added,  "  this  prohibition,  although 
not  formally  removed,  has  fallen  entirely  out  of  observance, 
and  remains  but  as  the  superstition  which  lingers  in  the 
brain  of  a  superannuated  gentleman-usher.  If  you  please," 
he  added,  ''  we  will  presently  descend,  and  try  whether  the 
place  be  haunted  or  no." 

I      No  thing  could  have  been  more  agreeable  to  Quentin  than 
the  prospect  of  a  free  entrance  into  the  garden,  through 
.,  means  of  which,  according  to  a  chance  which  had  hitherto 
attended  his  passion,  he  hoped  to  communicate  w'^  or  at 


224  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

least  obtain  sight  of,  the  object  of  his  affections,  from  some 
such  turret  or  balcony-window,  or  similar  "  coign  of  vant- 
age," as  at  the  hostelry  of  the  Fleur-de-Lys,  near  Plessis,  or 
the  Dauphin^s  Towers,  within  that  castle  itself.  Isabelle 
seemed  still  destined,  wherever  she  made  her  abode,  to  be 
the  ^Madyof  the  turret." 

When  Durward  descended  with  his  new  friend  into  the 
garden,  the  latter  seemed  a  terrestrial  philosopher,  entirely 
busied  with  the  things  of  the  earth  ;  while  the  eyes  of  Quen- 
tin,  if  they  did  not  seek  the  heavens,  like  those  of  the 
astrologer,  ranged  at  least  all  around  the  windows,  balconies, 
and  especially  the  turrets,  which  projected  on  every  part 
from  the  inner  front  of  the  old  building,  in  order  to  discover 
that  which  was  to  be  his  cynosure. 

While  thus  employed,  the  young  lover  heard  with  total 
neglect,  if  indeed  he  heard  at  all,  the  enumeration  of  plants, 
herbs,  and  shrubs,  which  his  reverend  conductor  pointed  out 
to  him  ;  of  which  this  was  choice,  because  of  prime  use  in 
medicine  ;  and  that  more  choice,  for  yielding  a  rare  flavor  to 
pottage  ;  and  a  third  choicest  of  all,  because  possessed  of  no 
merit  but  its  extreme  scarcity.  Still  it  was  necessary  to 
preserve  some  semblance  at  least  of  attention ;  which  the 
youth  found  so  difficult,  that  he  fairly  wished  at  the  devil 
the  officious  naturalist  and  the  whole  vegetable  kingdom. 
He  was  relieved  at  length  by  the  striking  of  a  clock,  which 
summoned  the  chaplain  to  some  official  duty. 

The  reverend  man  made  many  unnecessary  apologies  for 
leaving  his  new  friend,  and  concluded  by  giving  him  the 
agreeable  assurance  that  he  might  walk  in  the  garden  till 
supper,  without  much  risk  of  being  disturbed. 

"  It  is,"  said  he,  ^*^the  place  where  I  always  study  my  own 
homilies,  as  being  more  sequestered  from  the  resort  of 
strangers.  I  am  now  about  to  deliver  one  of  them  in  the 
chapel,  if  you  please  to  favor  me  with  your  audience.  I  have 
been  thought  to  have  some  gift — but  the  glory  be  where  it 
is  due  ! " 

Quentin  excused  himself  for  this  evening,  under  pretense 
of  a  severe  headache,  which  the  open  air  was  likely  to  prove 
the  best  cure  for  ;  and  at  length  the  well-meaning  priest  left 
him  to  himself. 

It  may  be  well  imagined,  that  in  the  curious  inspection 
which  he  now  made,  at  more  leisure,  of  every  window  or 
aperture  which  looked  into  the  garden,  those  did  not  escape 
which  were  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  small  door 
by  which  he  had  seen  Marthon  admit  Hayraddin,  as  he  pre- 


qUENTIN  BURWARB  225 

tended,  to  the  apartment  of  the  countess.  But  nothing 
stirred  or  showed  itself,  which  could  either  confute  or  con- 
firm the  tale  which  the  Bohemian  had  told,  until  it  was 
becoming  dusky  ;  and  Quentin  began  to  be  sensible,  he  scarce 
knew  why,  that  his  sauntering  so  long  in  the  garden  might 
be  subject  of  displeasure  or  suspicion. 

Just  as  he  had  resolved  to  depart,  and  was  taking  what  he 
had  destined  for  his  last  turn  under  the  windows  which  had 
such  attraction  for  him,  he  heard  above  him  a  slight  and 
cautious  sound,  like  that  of  a  cough  as  intended  to  call  his 
attention,  and  to  avoid  the  observation  of  others.  As  he 
looked  up  in  joyful  surprise,  a  casement  opened— a  female 
hand  was  seen  to  drop  a  billet,  which  fell  into  a  rosemary 
bush  that  grew  at  the  foot  of  the  wall.  The  precaution  used 
in  dropping  this  letter  prescribed  equal  prudence  and  secrecy 
in  reading  it.  The  garden,  surrounded,  as  we  have  said,  upon 
two  sides  by  the  buildings  of  the  palace,  was  commanded,  of 
course,  by  the  windows  of  many  apartments  ;  but  there  was 
a  sort  of  grotto  of  rock- work,  which  the  chaplain  had  shown 
Durward  with  much  complacency.  To  snatch  up  the  billet, 
thrust  it  into  his  bosom,  and  hie  to  this  place  of  secrecy,  was 
the  work  of  a  single  minute.  He  there  opened  the  precious 
scroll,  and  blessed,  at  the  same  time,  the  memory  of  the 
monks  of  Aberbrothock,  whose  nurture  had  rendered  him 
capable  of  deciphering  its  contents. 

The  first  line  cotained  the  injunction,  '*  Read  this  in  se- 
cret,'' — and  the  contents  were  as  follows :  "  What  your  eyes 
have  too  boldly  said  mine  have  perhaps  too  rashly  understood! 
But  unjust  persecution  makes  its  victims  bold,  and  it  were 
better  to  throw  myself  on  the  gratitude  of  one  than  to  remain 
the  object  of  pursuit  to  many.  Fortune  has  her  throne  upon 
a  rock  ;  but  brave  men  fear  not  to  climb.  If  you  dare  do 
aught  for  one  that  hazards  much,  you  need  but  pass  into  this 
garden  at  prime  to-morrow,  wearing  in  your  cap  a  blue  and 
white  feather  ;  but  expect  no  farther  communication.  Your 
stars  have,  they  say,  destined  you  for  greatness,  and  disposed 
you  to  gratitude.  Farewell — be  faithful,  prompt,  and  reso- 
lute, and  doubt  not  thy  fortune."^  Within  this  letter  was 
enclosed  a  ring  with  a  table-diamond,  on  which  were  cut,  in 
form  of  a  lozenge,  the  ancient  arms  of  the  house  of  Croye. 

The  first  feeling  of  Quentin  upon  this  occasion  was  un- 
mingled  ecstasy — a  pride  and  joy  which  seemed  to  raise  him 
to  the  stars, — a  determination  to  do  or  die,  influenced  by 
which  he  treated  with  scorn  the  thousand  obstacles  that 
placed  themselves  betwixt  him  and  the  goal  of  his  wishes. 
15 


22Q  WAV EELEY  NOVELS 

In  this  mood  of  rapture,  and  unable  to  endure  any  inter- 
ruption which  might  withdraw  his  mind,  were  it  but  for  a 
moment,  from  so  ecstatic  a  subject  of  contemplation,  Dur- 
ward,  retiring  to  the  interior  of  the  castle,  hastily  assigned 
his  former  pretext  of  a  headache  for  not  joining  the  house- 
hold of  the  bishop  at  the  supper-meal,  and,  lighting  his  lamp, 
betook  himself  to  the  chamber  which  had  been  assigned  him, 
to  read  and  to  read  again  and  again,  the  precious  billet,  and 
to  kiss  a  thousand  times  the  no  less  precious  ring. 

But  such  high-wrought  feelings  could  not  remain  long  in 
the  same  ecstatic  tone.  A  thought  pressed  upon  him,  though 
he  repelled  it  as  ungrateful — as  even  blasphemous,  that  the 
frankness  of  the  confession  implied  less  delicacy,  on  the  part 
of  her  who  made  it,  than  was  consistent  with  the  high 
romantic  feeling  of  adoration  with  which  he  had  hitherto 
worshiped  the  Lady  Isabelle.  No  sooner  did  this  ungracious 
thought  intrude  itself  than  he  hastened  to  stifle  it,  as  he 
would  have  stifled  a  hissing  and  hateful  adder  that  had  in- 
truded itself  into  his  couch.  Was  it  for  him — him  the 
favored,  on  whose  account  she  had  stooped  from  her  sphere, 
to  ascribe  blame  to  her  for  the  very  act  of  condescension, 
without  which  he  dared  not  have  raised  his  eyes  towards  her  ? 
Did  not  her  very  dignity  of  birth  and  of  condition  reverse, 
in  her  case,  the  usual  rules  which  impose  silence  on  the  lady 
until  her  lover  shall  have  first  spoken  ?  To  these  arguments, 
which  he  boldly  formed  into  syllogisms,  and  avowed  to  him- 
self, his  vanity  might  possibly  suggest  one  which  he  cared 
not  to  embody  even  mentally  with  the  same  frankness — that 
the  merit  of  the  party  beloved  might  perhaps  warrant,  on 
the  part  of  the  lady,  some  little  departure  from  common 
rules ;  and,  after  all,  as  in  the  case  of  Malvolio,  there  was 
example  for  it  in  chronicle.  The  squire  of  low  degree,  of 
whom  he  had  just  been  reading,  was,  like  himself,  a  gentle- 
man void  of  land  and  living,  and  yet  the  generous  Princess  of 
Hungary  bestowed  on  him,  without  scruple,  more  substantial 
marks  of  her  affection  than  the  billet  he  had  just  received  : — 

"  Welcome,"  she  said,  *'  my  swete  squyre, 
My  heartis  roote,  my  scale's  desire  ; 
I  will  give  thee  kisses  three, 
And  als  five  hundrid  poundis  in  fee." 

And  again  the  same  faithful  history  made  the  King  of 
Hongrie  himself  avouch, 

"  I  have  known  many  a  page 
Come  to  be  prince  by  marriage.** 


qUENTIN  DVRWARD  227 

So  that,  upon  the  whole,  Quentin  generously  and  magnani- 
mously reconciled  himself  to  a  line  of  conduct  on  the 
countess's  part  by  which  he  was  likely  to  be  so  highly 
benefited. 

But  this  scruple  was  succeeded  by  another  doubt,  harder 
of  digestion.  The  traitor  Hayraddin  had  been  in  the  apart- 
ments of  the  ladies,  for  aught  Quentin  knew,  for  the  space 
of  four  hours,  and,  considering  the  hints  which  he  had 
thrown  out,  of  possessing  an  influence  of  the  most  interesting 
kind  over  the  fortunes  of  Quentin  Durward,  what  should 
assure  him  that  this  train  was  not  of  his  laying  ?  and  if  so, 
was  it  not  probable  that  such  a  dissembling  villain  had  set  it 
on  foot  to  conceal  some  new  plan  of  treachery — perhaps  to 
seduce  Isabelle  out  of  the  protection  of  the  worthy  bishop  ? 
This  was  a  matter  to  be  closely  looked  into,  for  Quentin  felt 
a  repugnance  to  this  individual  proportioned  to  the  una- 
bashed impudence  with  which  he  had  avowed  his  profligacy, 
and  could  not  bring  himself  to  hope,  that  anything  in  which 
he  was  concerned  could  ever  come  to  an  honorable  or  happy 
conclusion. 

These  various  thoughts  rolled  over  Quentin's  mind  like 
misty  clouds,  to  dash  and  obscure  the  fair  landscape  which 
his  fancy  had  at  first  drawn,  and  his  couch  was  that  night  a 
sleepless  one.  At  the  hour  of  prime,  ay,  and  an  hour  before 
it,  was  he  in  the  castle-garden,  where  no  one  now  opposed 
either  his  entrance  or  his  abode,  with  a  feather  of  the  assigned 
color,  as  distinguished  as  he  could  by  any  means  procure  in 
such  haste.  No  notice  was  taken  of  his  appearance  for  nearly 
two  hours  ;  at  length  he  heard  a  few  notes  of  the  lute,  and 
presently  the  lattice  opened  right  above  the  little  postern- 
door  at  which  Marthon  had  admitted  Hayraddin,  and  Isa- 
belle, in  maidenly  beauty,  appearing  at  the  opening,  greeted 
him  half-kindly  half-shyly,  colored  extremely  at  the  deep 
and  significant  reverence  with  which  he  returned  her  courtesy, 
shut  the  casement  and  disappeared. 

Daylight  and  champaign  could  discover  no  more !  The 
authenticity  of  the  billet  was  ascertained  ;  it  only  remained 
what  was  to  follow,  and  of  this  the  fair  writer  had  given  him 
no  hint.  But  no  immediate  danger  impended.  The  countess 
was  in  a  strong  castle,  under  the  protection  of  a  prince,  at 
once  respectable  for  his  secular  and  venerable  for  his  eccle- 
siastical authority.  There  was  neither  immediate  room  nor 
occasion  for  the  exulting  squire  interfering  in  the  adventure  ; 
and  it  was  sufficient  if  he  kept  himself  prompt  to  execute  her 
commands  whenever  they  should  be  communicated  to  him. 


2^  WAVEttLEY  NOVELS 

But  Fate  proposed  to  call  him  into  action  sooner  than  he  was 
aware  of. 

It  was  the  fourth  night  after  his  arrival  at  Schonwaldt, 
when  Quentin  had  taken  measures  for  sending  back  on  the 
morrow,  to  the  court  of  Louis,  the  remaining  groom  who  had 
accompanied  him  on  his  journey,  with  letters  from  himself  to 
his  uncle  and  Lord  Crawford,  renouncing  the  service  of 
France,  for  which  the  treachery  to  which  he  had  been  ex- 
posed by  the  private  instructions  of  Hayniddin  gave  him  an 
excuse,  both  in  honor  and  prudence  ;  and  he  betook  himself 
to  his  bed  with  all  the  rosy-colored  ideas  around  him  which 
flutter  about  the  couch  of  a  youth  when  he  loves  dearly,  and 
thinks  his  love  as  sincerely  repaid. 

But  Quentin's  dreams,  which  at  first  partook  of  the  nature 
of  those  happy  influences  under  which  he  had  fallen  asleep, 
began  by  degrees  to  assume  a  more  terrific  character. 

He  walked  with  the  Countess  Isabelle  beside  a  smooth  and 
inland  lake,  such  as  formed  the  principal  characteristic  of 
his  native  glen  ;  and  he  spoke  to  her  of  his  love,  without  any 
consciousness  of  the  impediments  which  lay  between  them. 
She  blushed  and  smiled  when  she  listened,  even  as  he  might 
have  expected  from  the  tenor  of  the  letter,  which,  sleeping 
or  waking,  lay  nearest  to  his  heart.  But  the  scene  suddenly 
changed  from  summer  to  winter,  from  calm  to  tempest ;  the 
winds  and  the  waves  rose  with  such  a  contest  of  surge  and 
whirlwind,  as  if  the  demons  of  the  water  and  of  the  air  had 
been  contending  for  their  roaring  empires  in  rival  strife. 
The  rising  waters  seemed  to  cut  off  their  advance  and  their 
retreat ;  the  increasing  tempest  which  dashed  them  against 
each  other,  seemed  to  render  their  remaining  on  the  spot 
impossible ;  and  the  tumultuous  sensations  produced  by  the 
apparent  danger  awoke  the  dreamer. 

He  awoke ;  but  although  the  circumstances  of  the  vision 
had  disappeared,  and  given  place  to  reality,  the  noise,  which 
had  probably  suggested  them,  still  continued  to  sound  in  his 
ears. 

Quentin's  first  impulse  was  to  sit  erect  in  bed,  and  listen 
with  astonishment  to  sounds,  which,  if  they  had  announced 
a  tempest,  might  have  shamed  the  wildest  that  ever  burst 
down  from  the  Grampians  ;  and  again  in  a  minute  he  became 
sensible,  that  the  tumult  was  not  excited  by  the  fury  of  the 
elements,  but  by  the  wrath  of  men. 

He  sprung  from  bed,  and  looked  from  the  window  of  his 
apartment ;  but  it  opened  into  the  garden,  and  on  that  side 
all  was  quiet,  though  the  opening  of  the  casement  made  him 


QUENTIN  DVRWARD  ^29 

still  more  sensible,  from  the  shouts  which  reached  his  ears, 
that  the  outside  of  the  castle  was  beleaguered  and  assaulted, 
and  that  by  a  numerous  and  determined  enemy.  Hastily 
collecting  his  dress  and  arms,  and  putting  them  on  with  such 
celerity  as  darkness  and  surprise  permitted,  his  attention 
was  solicited  by  a  knocking  at  the  door  of  his  chamber.  As 
Quentin  did  not  immediately  answer,  the  door,  which  was 
a  flight  one,  was  forced  open  from  without,  and  the  intruder, 
announced  by  his  peculiar  dialect  to  be  the  Bohemian,  Hay- 
raddin  Maugrabin,  entered  the  apartment.  A  phial,  which 
he  held  in  his  hand,  touched  by  a  match,  produced  a  dark 
flash  of  ruddy  fire,  by  means  of  which  he  kindled  a  lamp, 
which  he  took  from  his  bosom. 

*'The  horoscope  of  your  destinies, ''  he  said  energetically 
to  Durward,  without  any  farther  greeting,  "  now  turns  upon 
the  determination  of  a  minute." 

''Caitiff!"  said  Quentin,  in  reply,  ''there  is  treachery 
around  us  ;  and  where  there  is  treachery,  thou  must  have  a 
share  in  it." 

"  You  are  mad,"  answered  Maugrabin  ;  "  I  never  betrayed 
any  one  but  to  gain  by  it,  and  wherefore  should  I  betray  you,  by 
whose  safety  I  can  take  more  advantage  than  by  your  des- 
truction ?  Hearken  for  a  moment,  if  it  be  possible  for  you, 
to  one  note  of  reason  ere  it  is  sounded  into  your  ear  by  the 
death  shot  of  ruin.  The  Liegeois  are  up  ;  William  de  la 
Marck  with  his  band  leads  them.  Were  there  means  of  re- 
sistance, their  numbers  and  his  fury  would  overcome  them  ; 
but  there  are  next  to  none.  If  you  would  save  the  countess 
and  your  own  hopes,  follow  me  in  the  name  of  her  who  sent 
you  a  table-diamond,  with  three  leopards  engraved  on  it ! " 

"Lead  the  way,"  said  Quentin,  hastily.  "In  that  name 
I  dare  every  danger  ! " 

"As  I  shall  manage  it,"  said  the  Bohemian,  "there  is  no 
danger,  if  you  can  but  withhold  your  hand  from  strife  which 
does  not  concern  you ;  for,  after  all,  what  is  it  to  you 
whether  the  bishop,  as  they  call  him,  slaughters  his  flock, 
or  the  flock  slaughters  the  shepherd  ?  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  Fol- 
low me  but  with  caution  and  patience  ;  subdue  your  own 
courage,  and  confide  in  my  prudence  ;  and  my  debt  of  thank- 
fulness is  paid,  and  you  have  a  countess  for  your  spouse. 
Follow  me." 

"  I  follow,"  said  Quentin,  drawing  his  sword  ;  "  but  the 
moment  in  which  I  detect  the  least  sign  of  treachery,  thy 
head  and  body  are  three  yards  separate  ! " 

Without  more  conversation,  the  Bohemian,  seeing  that 


230  WAVERLEY  NOVELS. 

Quentin  was  now  fully  armed  and  ready,  ran  down  the  stairs 
before  him,  and  winded  hastily  through  various  side-pas- 
sages, until  they  gained  the  little  garden.  Scarce  a  light 
was  to  be  seen  on  that  side,  scarce  any  bustle  was  to  be 
heard  ;  but  no  sooner  had  Quentin  entered  the  open  space 
than  the  noise  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  castle  became  ten 
times  more  stunningly  audible,  and  he  could  hear  the  various 
war-cries  of  ''  Liege  !  Liege  !  Sanglier  !  Sanglier  !"  shouted 
by  the  assailants,  while  the  feebler  cry  of  ''Our  Lady  for 
the  Prince  Bishop ! ''  was  raised  in  a  faint  and  faltering 
tone,  by  those  of  the  prelete's  soldiers  who  had  hastened, 
though  surprised  and  at  disadvantage,  to  the  defense  of  the 
walls. 

But  the  interest  of  the  fight,  notwithstanding  the  mar- 
tial character  of  Quentin  Durward,  was  indifferent  to  him 
in  comparison  of  the  fate  of  Isabelle  of  Croye,  which,  he 
had  reason  to  fear,  would  be  a  dreadful  one,  unless  rescued 
from  the  power  of  the  dissolute  and  cruel  freebooter  who 
was  now,  as  it  seemed,  bursting  the  gates  of  the  castle.  He 
reconciled  himself  to  the  aid  of  the  Bohemian  as  men  in  a 
desperate  illness  refuse  not  the  remedy  prescribed  by  quacks 
and  mountebanks,  and  followed  across  the  garden,  with  the 
intention  of  being  guided  by  him  until  he  should  discover 
symptoms  of  treachery,  and  then  piercing  him  through  the 
heart,  or  striking  his  head  from  his  body.  Hayraddin 
seemed  himself  conscious  that  his  safety  turned  on  a  feather- 
weight, for  he  forbore,  from  the  moment  they  entered  the 
open  air,  all  his  wonted  gibes  and  quirks,  and  seemed  to  have 
made  a  vow  to  act  at  once  with  modesty,  courage,  and 
activity. 

At  the  opposite  door,  which  led  to  the  ladies'  apartments, 
upon  a  low  signal  made  by  Hayraddin,  appeared  two  women, 
muffled  in  the  black  silk  veils  which  were  then,  as  now, 
worn  by  the  women  in  the  Netherlands.  Quentin  offered 
his  arm  to  one  of  them,  who  clung  to  it  with  trembling 
eagerness,  and  indeed  hung  upon  him  so  much  that  had  her 
weight  been  greater,  she  must  have  much  impeded  their  re- 
treat. The  Bohemian,  who  conducted  the  other  female, 
took  the  road  straight  for  the  postern  which  opened  upon 
the  moat,  through  the  garden-wall,  close  to  which  the  little 
skiff  was  drawn  up,  hy  means  of  which  Quentin  had  formerly 
observed  Hayraddin  himself  retreating  from  the  castle. 

As  they  crossed,  the  shouts  of  storm  and  successful  vio- 
lence seemed  to  announce  that  the  castle  was  in  the  act  of 
being  taken  ;  and  so  dismal  was  the  sound  in  Quen tin's  ears, 


qUENTIN  BURWABB  281 

that  he  could  not  help  swearing  aloud,  "  But  that  my  blood 
is  irretrievably  devoted  to  the  fulfilment  of  my  present  duty 
I  would  back  to  the  wall,  take  faithful  part  with  the  hospi- 
table bishop,  and  silence  some  of  those  knaves  whose  throats 
are  full  of  mutiny  and  robbery  \" 

The  lady,  whose  arm  was  still  folded  in  his,  pressed  it 
lightly  as  he  spoke,  as  if  to  make  him  understand  that  there 
was  a  nearer  claim  on  his  chivalry  than  the  defense  of 
Schonwaldt ;  while  the  Bohemian  exclaimed,  loud  enough 
to  be  heard,  "Now,  that  I  call  right  Christian  frenzy,  which 
would  turn  back  to  fight,  when  love  and  fortune  both  de- 
mand that  we  should  fly.  On — on,  with  all  the  haste  you 
can  make.     Horses  wait  us  in  yonder  thicket  of  willows.'^ 

'^  There  are  but  two  horses,  said  Quentin,  who  saw  them 
in  the  moonlight. 

"  All  that  I  could  procure  without  exciting  suspicion,  and 
enough,  besides,*'  replied  the  Bohemian.  "  You  two  must 
ride  for  Tongres  ere  the  way  becomes  unsafe  ;  Marthon  will 
abide  with  the  women  of  our  horde,  with  whom  she  is  an  old 
acquaintance.  Know,  she  is  a  daughter  of  our  tribe,  and 
only  dwelt  among  you  to  serve  our  purpose  as  occasion 
should  fall. 

"  Marthon  ! "  exclaimed  the  countess,  looking  at  the  veiled 
female  with  a  shriek  of  surprise ;  "  is  not  this  my  kins- 
woman ?  " 

"Only  Marthon,'*  said  Hayraddin.  "Excuse  me  that 
little  piece  of  deceit.  I  dared  not  carry  off  both  the  Ladies 
of  Croye  from  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes." 

"  Wretch  !  "  said  Quentin,  emphatically  ;  "  but  it  is  not 
— shall  not — be  too  late  :  I  will  back  to  rescue  the  Lady 
Hameline." 

"  Hameline,**  whispered  the  Lady,  in  a  disturbed  voice, 
"  hangs  on  thy  arm  to  thank  thee  for  her  rescue." 

"Ha!  what!  How  is  this?"  said  Quentin,  extricating 
himself  from  her  hold,  and  with  less  gentleness  than  he 
would  at  any  other  time  have  used  towards  a  female  of  any 
rank.  "  Is  the  Lady  Isabelle  then  left  behind  ?  Farewell 
— farewell." 

As  he  turned  to  hasten  back  to  the  castle,  Hayraddin  laid 
hold  of  him.  "Nay,  hear  you — hear  you — you  run  upon 
your  death  !  What  the  foul  fiend  did  you  wear  the  colors 
of  the  old  one  for  ?  I  will  never  trust  blue  and  white  silk 
again.  But  she  has  almost  as  large  a  dower — has  jewel  and 
gold — hath  pretensions,  too,  upon  the  earldom." 

While  he  spoke  thus,  panting  on  in  broken  sentences,  the 


232  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

Bohemian  struggled  to  detain  Quentin,  who  at  length  laid 
his  hand  on  his  dagger,  in  order  to  extricate  himself. 

"  Nay,  if  that  be  the  case,"  said  Hayraddin,  unloosing  his 
hold,  "  go,  and  the  devil,  if  there  be  one,  go  along  with 
you  ! "  And,  soon  as  freed  from  his  hold,  the  Scot  shot  back 
to  the  castle  with  the  speed  of  the  wind. 

Hayraddin  then  turned  round  to  the  Countess  Hameline, 
who  had  sunk  down  on  the  ground,  between  shame,  fear,  and 
disappointment. 

"Here  has  been  a  mistake,"  he  said.  "  Up,  lady,  and 
come  with  me  ;  I  will  provide  you,  ere  morning  comes  agal- 
lanter  husband  than  this  smock-faced  boy  ;  and  if  one  will 
not  serve,  you  shall  have  twenty." 

The  Lady  Hameline  was  as  violent  in  her  passions  as  she 
was  vain  and  weak  in  her  understanding.  Like  many  other 
persons,  she  went  tolerably  well  through  the  ordinary  duties 
of  life  ;  but  in  a  crisis  like  the  present,  she  was  entirely  in- 
capable of  doing  aught,  save  pouring  forth  unavailing  lamen- 
tations, and  accusing  Hayraddin  of  being  a  thief,  a  base  slave, 
an  impostor,  a  murderer. 

"  Call  me  Zingaro,"  returned  he,  composedly,  "  and  you 
have  said  all  at  once." 

"  Monster  !  you  said  the  stars  had  decreed  our  union,  and 
caused  me  to  write — 0  wretch  that  I  was  !  "  exclaimed  the 
unhappy  lady. 

"  And  so  they  had  decreed  your  union,"  said  Hayraddin, 
"  had  both  parties  been  willing  ;  but  think  you  the  blessed 
constellations  can  make  any  one  wed  against  his  will  ?  I  was 
led  into  error  with  your  accursed  Christian  gallantries,  and 
fopperies  of  ribbons  and  favors,  and  the  youth  prefers  veal 
to  beef,  I  think,  that's  all.  Up  and  follow  me  ;  and  take 
notice,  I  endure  neither  weeping  nor  swooning." 

"  I  will  not  stir  a  foot,"  said  the  countess,  obstinately. 

"  By  the  bright  welkin,  but  you  shall,  though  I  "  exclaimed 
Hayraddin.  "  I  swear  to  you,  by  all  that  ever  fools  believed 
in,  that  you  have  to  do  with  one  who  would  care  little  to 
strip  you  naked,  bind  you  to  a  tree,  and  leave  vou  to  your 
fortune  ! " 

"  jSTay,"  said  Marthon,  interfering,  "  by  your  favor  she 
shall  not  be  misused.  I  wear  a  knife  as  well  as  you,  and  can 
use  it.  She  is  a  kind  woman,  though  a  fool.  And  you, 
madam,  rise  up  and  follow  us.  Here  has  been  a  mistake ; 
but  it  is  something  to  have  saved  life  and  limb.  There  are 
many  in  yonder  castle  would  give  all  the  wealth  in  the  world 
to  stand  where  we  do  now/'  i     • 


qUENTtN  DURWARb  M 

As  Marthon  spoke,  a  clamor,  in  which  the  shouts  of  victory- 
were  mingled  with  screams  of  terror  and  despair,  was  wafted 
to  them  from  the  castle  of  Schonwaldt. 

*'  Hear  that,  lady  ! '^  said  Hayraddin,  ''and  be  thankful 
you  are  not  adding  your  treble  pipe  to  yonder  concert.  Be- 
lieve me,  I  will  care  for  you  honestly,  and  the  stars  shall 
keep  their  words,  and  find  you  a  good  husband." 

Like  some  wild  animal,  exhausted  and  subdued  by  terror 
and  fatigue,  the  Countess  Hameline  yielded  herself  up  to  the 
conduct  of  her  guides,  and  suffered  herself  to  be  passively 
led  whichever  way  they  would.  Nay,  such  was  the  confusion 
of  her  spirits  and  the  exhaustion  of  her  strength,  that  the 
worthy  couple,  who  half  bore,  half  led  her,  carried  on  their 
discourse  in  her  presence  without  her  even  understanding  it. 

"  I  ever  thought  your  plan  was  folly,"  said  Mart  lion. 
''  Could  you  have  brought  the  young  people  together,  indeed, 
we  might  have  had  a  hold  on  their  gratitude,  and  a  footing 
in  their  castle.  But  what  chance  of  so  handsome  a  youth 
wedding  this  old  fool  ?  " 

"  Rizpah,"  said  Hayraddin,  ''  you  have  borne  the  name  of 
a  Christian,  and  dwelt  in  the  tents  of  those  besotted  people, 
till  thou  hast  become  a  partaker  in  their  follies.  How  could 
I  dream  that  he  would  have  made  scruples  about  a  few  years, 
youth  or  age,  when  the  advantages  of  the  match  were  so 
evident  ?  And  thou  knowest,  there  would  have  been  no 
moving  yonder  coy  wench  to  be  so  frank  as  this  coming  coun- 
tess here,  who  hangs  on  our  arms  as  dead  a  weight  as  a  wool- 
pack.  I  loved  the  lad, too,  and  would  have  done  him  a  kind- 
ness :  to  wed  him  to  this  old  woman  was  to  make  his  fortune; 
to  unite  him  to  Isabelle  were  to  have  brought  on  him  De  la 
Marck,  Burgundy,  France — every  one  that  challenges  an  in- 
terest in  disposing  of  her  hand.  And  this  silly  woman's 
wealth  being  chiefly  in  gold  and  jewels,  we  should  have  had 
our  share.  But  the  bow-string  has  burst  and  the  arrow 
failed.  Away  with  her  ;  we  will  bring  her  to  William  with 
the  Beard,  by  the  time  he  has  gorged  himself  with  wassail, 
as  is  his  wont,  he  will  not  know  an  old  countess  from  a  young 
one.  Away,  Rizpah ;  bear  a  gallant  heart.  The  bright 
Aldebaran  still  influence  the  destinies  of  the  Children  of  the 
Desert  I " 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE   SACK 

The  gates  of  mercy  shall  be  all  shut  up, 

And  the  flesh'd  soldier,  rough  and  hard  of  heart. 

In  liberty  of  bloody  hand  shall  range, 

With  conscience  wide  as  hell. 

Henry  V, 

The  surprised  and  affrighted  garrison  of  the  castle  of  Schon- 
waldt  had,  nevertheless,  for  some  time,  made  good  the  de- 
fense against  the  assailants ;  but  the  immense  crowds  which, 
issuing  from  the  city  of  Liege,  thronged  to  the  assault  like 
bees,  distracted  their  attention  and  abated  their  courage. 

There  was  also  disaffection  at  least,  if  not  treachery, 
among  the  defenders  ;  for  some  called  out  to  surrender,  and 
others,  deserting  their  posts,  tried  to  escape  from  the  castle. 
Many  threw  themselves  from  the  walls  into  the  moat,  and 
3uch  as  escaped  drowning  flung  aside  their  distinguishing 
badges,  and  saved  themselves  by  mingling  among  the  motley 
srowd  of  assailants.  Some  few,  indeed,  from  attachment  to 
khe  bishop^s  person,  drew  around  him,  and  continued  to  de- 
tend  the  great  keep,  to  which  he  had  fled  ;  and  others, 
ioubtful  of  receiving  quarter,  or  from  an  impulse  of  desper- 
ate courage,  held  out  other  detached  bulwarks  and  towers 
of  the  extensive  building.  But  the  assailants  had  got  pos- 
session of  the  courts  and  lower  parts  of  the  edifice,  and  were 
busy  pursuing  the  vanquished  and  searching  for  spoil,  while 
one  individual,  as  if  he  sought  for  that  death  from  which 
all  others  were  flying,  endeavored  to  force  his  way  into  the 
scene  of  tumult  and  horror,  under  apprehensions  still  more 
horrible  to  his  imagination  than  the  realities  around  were  to 
his  sight  and  senses.  Whoever  had  seen  Quentin  Durward 
that  fatal  night,  not  knowing  the  meaning  of  his  conduct, 
had  accounted  him  a  raging  madman  ;  whoever  had  appre- 
ciated his  motives  had  ranked  him  nothing  beneath  a  hero 
of  romance. 

Approaching  Schonwaldt  on  the  same  side  from  which  he 
had  left  it,  the  youth  met  several  fugitives  making  for  the 
wood,  who  naturally  avoided  him  as  an  enemy,  because  he 

234 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  235 

came  in  an  opposite  direction  from  that  which  they  had 
adopted.  When  he  came  nearer,  he  could  hear,  and  partly 
see,  men  dropping  from  the  garden-wall  into  the  castle  fosse, 
and  others  who  seemed  precipitated  from  the  battlements 
by  the  assailants.  His  courage  was  not  staggered,  even  for 
an  instant.  There  was  not  time  to  look  for  the  boat,  even 
had  it  been  practicable  to  use  it,  and  it  was  in  vain  to  ap- 
proach the  postern  of  the  garden,  which  was  crowded  with 
fugitives,  who  ever  and  anon,  as  they  were  thrust  through 
it  by  the  pressure  behind,  fell  into  the  moat  which  they  had 
no  means  of  crossing. 

Avoiding  that  point,  Quentin  threw  himself  into  the  moat, 
near  what  was  called  the  little  gate  of  the  castle,  and  where 
there  was  a  drawbridge,  which  was  still  elevated.  He 
avoided  with  difficulty  the  fatal  grasp  of  more  than  one 
sinking  wretch,  and,  swimming  to  the  drawbridge,  caught 
hold  of  one  of  the  chains  which  was  hanging  down,  and,  by 
a  great  exertion  of  strength  and  activity,  swayed  himself  out 
of  the  water,  and  attained  the  platform  from  which  the 
bridge  was  suspended.  As  with  hands  and  knees  he  strug- 
gled to  make  good  his  footing,  alanzknecht,  with  his  bloody 
sword  in  his  hand,  made  towards  him,  and  raised  his  weapon 
for  a  blow,  which  must  have  been  fatal. 

''  How  now,  fellow  \"  said  Quentin,  in  a  tone  of  author- 
ity. "  Is  that  the  way  in  which  you  assist  a  comrade  ? 
Give  me  your  hand." 

The  soldier  in  silence,  and  not  without  hesitation,  reached 
him  his  arm,  and  helped  him  upon  the  platform,  when  with- 
out allowing  him  time  for  reflection,  the  Scot  continued  in 
the  same  tone  of  command — ^'To  the  western  tower,  if  you 
would  be  rich  :  the  priest^s  treasury  is  in  the  western  tower." 

These  words  were  echoed  on  every  hand  :  ''To  the  west- 
ern tower,  the  treasure  is  in  the  western  tower  ! "  And  the 
stragglers  who  were  within  hearing  of  the  cry,  took,  like  a 
herd  of  raging  wolves,  the  direction  opposite  to  that  which 
Quentin,  come  life,  come  death,  was  determined  to  pursue. 

Bearing  himself  as  if  he  were  one,  not  of  the  conquered, 
but  of  the  victors,  he  made  a  way  into  the  garden,  and 
pushed  across  it,  with  less  interruption  than  he  could  have 
expected  ;  for  the  cry  of  ''To  the  western  tower  !"  had  car- 
ried off  one  body  of  the  assailants,  and  another  was  sum- 
moned together,  by  a  war-cry  and  trumpet-sound,  to  assist  in 
repelling  a  desperate  sally,  attempted  by  the  defenders  of 
the  keep,  who  had  hoped  to  cut  their  way  out  of  the  castle, 
bearing  the  bishop  along  with  them.     Quentin,  therefore. 


286  WAVEELEY  NOVELS 

crossed  the  garden  with  an  eager  step  and  throbbing  heart, 
commending  himself  to  those  Heavenly  powers  which  had 
protected  him  through  the  numberless  perils  of  his  life,  and 
bold  in  his  determination  to  succeed,  or  leave  his  life  in  this 
desperate  undertaking.  Ere  he  reached  the  garden,  three 
men  rushed  on  him  with  leveled  lances,  crying,  *'  Liege — 
Liege  ! " 

Putting  himself  in  defense,  but  without  striking,  he  re- 
plied, "  France — France,  friend  to  Liege  \" 

''  Vivat  France!  "  cried  the  burghers  of  Liege,  and  passed 
on.  The  same  signal  proved  a  talisman  to  avert  the  weapons 
of  four  or  five  of  La  Marck's  followers,  whom  he  found 
straggling  in  the  garden,  and  who  set  upon  him,  crying, 
"Sanglier!'' 

In  a  word,  Quentin  began  to  hope  that  his  character  as  an 
emissary  of  King  Louis,  the  private  instigator  of  the  in- 
surgents of  Liege,  and  the  secret  supporter  of  William  de  la 
Marck,  might  possibly  bear  him  through  the  horrors  of  the 
night. 

On  reaching  the  turret,  he  shuddered  when  he  found  the 
little  side-door,  through  which  Marthon  and  the  Countess 
Hameline  had  shortly  before  joined  him,  was  now  blockaded 
with  more  than  one  dead  body. 

Two  of  them  he  dragged  hastily  aside,  and  was  stepping 
over  the  third  body,  in  order  to  enter  the  portal,  when  the 
supposed  dead  man  laid  hand  on  his  cloak,  and  entreated 
him  to  stay  and  assist  him  to  rise.  Quentin  was  about  to 
use  rougher  methods  than  struggling  to  rid  himself  of  this 
untimely  obstruction,  when  the  fallen  man  continued  to 
exclaim,  ''  I  am  stifled  here,  in  mine  own  armor  !  I  am  the 
Syndic  Pavilion  of  Liege  !  If  you  are  for  us,  I  will  enrich 
you — if  you  are  for  the  other  side,  I  will  protect  you  ;  but  do 
not — do  not  leave  me  to  die  the  death  of  a  smothered  pig  ! " 

In  the  midst  of  this  scene  of  blood  and  confusion,  the 
presence  of  mind  of  Quentin  suggested  to  him,  that  this 
dignitary  might  have  the  means  of  protecting  their  retreat. 
He  raised  him  on  his  feet,  and  asked  him  if  he  was  wounded. 

"Not  wounded — at  least  I  think  not,"  answered  the 
burgher  ;  "  but  much  out  of  wind.'* 

**  Sit  down  then  on  this  stone,  and  recover  your  breath," 
said  Quentin  ;  '^^  I  will  return  instantly." 

"For  whom  are  you  ?"  said  the  burgher,  still  detaining 
him. 

<(  For  France — for  France,"  answered  Quentin,  studying 
to  get  away. 


QUENTIN  DUEWABD  m 

*'  What !  my  lively  young  archer  ?  "  said  the  worthy  syndic. 
''  Nay,  if  it  has  been  my  fate  to  find  a  friend  in  this  fearful 
night,  I  will  not  quit  him,  I  promise  you.  Go  where  you 
will,  I  follow  ;  and,  could  I  get  some  of  the  tight  lads  of  our 
giiildry  together,  I  might  be  able  to  help  you  in  turn  ;  but 
they  are  all  squandered  abroad  like  so  many  pease.  Oh,  it 
is  a  fearful  night ! " 

During  this  time,  he  was  dragging  himself  on  after 
Queutin,  who,  aware  of  the  importance  of  securing  the 
countenance  of  a  person  of  such  influence,  slackened  his 
pace  to  assist  him,  although  cursing  in  his  heart  the  en- 
cumbrance that  retarded  him. 

At  the  top  of  the  stair  was  an  ante-room,  with  boxes  and 
trunks,  which  bore  marks  of  having  been  rifled,  as  some  of 
the  contents  lay  on  the  floor.  A  lamp,  dying  in  the  chimney, 
shed  a  feeble  beam  on  a  dead  or  senseless  man,  who  lay 
across  the  hearth. 

Bounding  from  Pavilion,  like  a  greyhound  from  his 
keeper^s  leash,  and  with  an  effort  which  almost  overthrew 
him,  Quentin  sprung  through  a  second  and  a  third  room, 
the  last  of  which  seemed  to  be  the  bedroom  of  the  Ladies  of 
Croye.  No  living  mortal  was  to  be  seen  in  either  of  them. 
He  called  upon  the  Lady  Isabelle's  name,  at  first  gently, 
then  more  loudly,  and  then  with  an  accent  of  despairing 
emphasis ;  but  no  answer  was  returned.  He  wrung  his 
hands,  tore  his  hair,  and  stamped  on  the  earth  with  desper- 
ation. At  length,  a  feeble  glimmer  of  light,  which  shone 
through  a  crevice  in  the  wainscoting  of  a  dark  nook  in  the 
bedroom,  announced  some  recess  or  concealment  behind  the 
arras.  Quentin  hastened  to  examine  it.  He  found  there 
was  indeed  a  concealed  door,  but  it  resisted  his  hurried 
efforts  to  open  it.  Heedless  of  the  personal  injury  he  might 
sustain,  he  rushed  at  the  door  with  his  whole  force  and 
weight  of  his  body  ;  and  such  was  the  impetus  of  an  effort 
made  betwixt  hope  and  despair,  that  it  would  have  burst 
much  stronger  fastenings. 

He  thus  forced  his  way,  almost  headlong,  into  a  small 
oratory,  where  a  female  figure,  which  had  been  kneeling  in 
agonizing  supplication  before  the-  holy  image,  now  sunk  at 
length  on  the  floor,  under  the  new  terrors  implied  in  this 
approaching  tumult.  He  hastily  raised  her  from  the 
ground,  and,  joy  of  joys  !  it  was  she  whom  he  sought  to 
save — the  Countess  Isabelle.  He  pressed  her  to  his  bosom 
— he  conjured  her  to  awake — entreated  her  to  be  of  good 
cheer — for  that  she  was  now  under  the  protection  of  one 


238  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

who  had  heart  and  hand  enough  to    defend  her  against 
armies. 

'^  Durward  !  ''  she  said,  as  she  at  length  collected  herself, 
'*  is  it  indeed  you  ?  Then  there  is  some  hope  left.  I  thought 
all  living  and  mortal  friends  had  left  me  to  my  fate.  Do  not 
again  abandon  me.'' 

"  Never — never  !  "  said  Durward.  "  Whatever  shall  hap- 
pen^ — whatever  danger  shall  approach,  may  I  forfeit  the  bene- 
fits purchased  by  yonder  blessed  sign,  if  I  be  not  the  sharer 
of  your  fate  until  it  is  again  a  happy  one  !  " 

^^  Very  pathetic  and  touching,  truly,"  said  a  rough,  broken, 
asthmatic  voice  behind.  '*  A  love  affair,  I  see  ;  and,  from 
my  soul,  I  pity  the  tender  creature  as  if  she  were  my  own 
Trudchen." 

"You  must  do  more  than  pity  us,"  said  Quentin,  turning 
towards  the  speaker  ;  "  you  must  assist  in  protecting  us, 
Meinher  Pavilion.  Be  assured  this  lady  was  put  under  my 
especial  charge  by  your  ally  the  King  of  France  ;  and,  if  you 
aid  me  not  to  shelter  her  from  every  species  of  offense  and 
violence,  your  city  will  lose  the  favor  of  Louis  of  Valois. 
Above  all,  she  must  be  guarded  from  the  hands  of  William 
de  la  Marck." 

"  That  will  be  difficult,"  said  Pavilion,  "  for  these  schelms 
of  lanzknechts  are  very  devils  at  rummaging  out  the  wenches  ; 
but  ril  do  my  best.  We  will  to  the  other  apartment,  and 
there  I  will  consider.  It  is  but  a  narrow  stair,  and  you  can 
keep  the  door  with  a  pike,  while  I  look  from  the  window,  and 
get  together  some  of  my  brisk  boys  of  the  curriers'  guildry  or 
Liege,  that  are  as  true  as  the  knives  they  wear  in  their  girdles. 
But  first  undo  me  these  clasps  ;  for  I  have  not  worn  this  corslet 
since  the  battle  of  Sto  Tron,*  and  I  am  three  stone  heavier 
since  that  time,  if  there  be' truth  in  Dutch  beam  and  scale." 

The  undoing  of  the  iron  inclosure  gave  great  relief  to  the 
honest  man,  who,  in  putting  it  on,  had  more  considered  his 
zeal  to  the  cause  of  Liege  than  his  capacity  of  bearing  arms. 
It  afterwards  turned  out  that,  being,  as  it  were,  borne  for- 
ward involuntarily,  and  hoisted  over  the  walls  by  his  com- 
pany as  they  thronged  to  the  assault,  the  magistrate  had 
been  carried  hero  and  there,  as  the  tide  of  attack  and  de- 
fense flowed  or  ebbed,  without  the  power,  latterly,  of  even 
uttering  a  word  ;  until^  as  the  sea  casts  a  log  of  driftwood 
ashore  in  the  first  creek,  he  had  been  ultimately  thrown  down 
in  the  entrance  to  the  Ladies  of  Oroye's  apartments,  where 
the  encumbrance  of  his  own  armor,  with  the  superincum- 

-=>  See  Note  80. 


Q  U EN  TIN  D  UR  WA  RD  239 

bent  weight  of  two  men  slain  in  the  entrance,  and  who  fell 
above  him,  might  have  fixed  him  down  long  enough,  had  he 
not  been  relieved  by  Durward. 

The  same  warmth  of  temper,  which  rendered  Hermann 
Pavilion  a  hot-headed  and  intemperate  zealot  in  politics, 
had  the  more  desirable  consequence  of  making  him,  in  pri- 
vate, a  good-tempered,  kmd-hearted  man,  who,  if  some- 
times a  little  misled  by  vanity,  was  always  well-meaning  and 
benevolent.  He  told  Quentin  to  have  an  especial  care  of  the 
poor  pretty  yungfrau  ;  and,  after  this  unnecessary  exhorta- 
tion, began  to  halloo  from  the  window,  "  Liege,  Liege,  for 
the  gallant  skinners'  guild  of  curriers  !  *' 

One  or  two  of  his  immediate  followers  collected  at  the 
summons,  and  at  the  peculiar  whistle  with  which  it  was  ac- 
companied (each  of  the  crafts  having  such  a  signal  among 
themselves),  and,  more  joining  them,  established  a  guard 
under  the  window  from  which  their  leader  was  bawling,  and 
before  the  postern-door. 

Matters  seemed  now  settling  into  some  sort  of  tranquility. 
All  opposition  had  ceased,  and  the  leaders  of  the  different 
classes  of  assailants  were  taking  measures  to  prevent  indis- 
criminate plunder.  The  great  bell  was  tolled,  as  summons 
to  a  military  council,  and  its  iron  tongue,  communicating  to 
Liege  the  triumphant  possession  of  Schonwaldt  by  the  insur- 
gents, was  answered  by  all  the  bells  in  that  city,  whose  dis- 
tant and  clamorous  voices  seemed  to  cry,  *'  Hail  to  the  vic- 
tors !  "  It  would  have  been  natural,  that  Meinherr  Pavilion 
should  now  have  sallied  from  his  fastness  ;  but,  either  in 
reverent  care  of  those  whom  he  had  taken  under  his  protec- 
tion, or  perhaps  for  the  better  assurance  of  his  own  safety, 
he  contented  himself  with  despatching  messenger  on  mes- 
senger, to  command  his  lieutenant,  Peterkin  Geislaer,  to  at- 
tend him  directly. 

Peterkin  came  at  length,  to  his  great  relief,  as  being  the 
person  upon  whom,  on  all  pressing  occasions,  whether  of 
war,  politics,  or  commerce.  Pavilion  was  most  accustomed  to 
repose  confidence.  He  was  a  stout,  squat  figure,  with  a 
square  face  and  broad  black  eyebrows,  that  announced  him 
to  be  opinionative  and  disputations, — an  advice-giving  coun- 
tenance, so  to  speak.  He  was  endued  with  a  buff  jerkin, 
wore  a  broad  belt  and  cutlass  by  his  side,  and  carried  a  hal' 
berd  in  his  hand. 

"Peterkin,  my  dear  lieutenant,'^  said  his  commander, 
"  this  has  been  a  glorious  day- -night,  I  should  say ;  I  trust 
thou  art  pleased  for  once  ?  " 


%40  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

*'  I  am  well  enough  pleased  that  yon  are  so/*  said  the 
doughty  lieutenant ;  ''  though  I  should  not  have  thought  of 
your  celebrating  the  victory,  if  you  call  it  one,  up  in  this 
garret  by  yourself,  when  you  are  wanted  in  council." 

*'  But  am  I  wanted  there  ?  "  said  the  syndic. 

''Ay,  marry  are  you,  to  stand  up  for  the  rights  of  Liege, 
that  are  in  more  danger  than  ever,"  answered  the  lieutenant. 

*' Pshaw,  Peterkin,"  answered  his  principal,  "^'thou  art 
ever  such  a  frampold  grumbler " 

'^  Grumbler  !  not  I,"  said  Peterkin  ;  *'  what  pleases  other 
people  will  always  please  me.  Only  I  wish  we  have  not  got 
King  Stork,  instead  of  King  Log,  like  the  fabliau  that  the 
clerk  of  St.  Lambert's  used  to  read  us  out  of  Meister  ^sop's 
book." 

''I  cannot  guess  your  meaning,  Peterkin,"  said  the 
syndic. 

"  Why  then,  I  tell  you.  Master  Pavilion,  that  this  Boar, 
or  Bear,  is  like  to  make  his  own  den  of  Schonwaldt,  and 
'tis  probable  to  turn  out  as  bad  a  neighbor  to  our  town  as 
ever  was  the  old  bishop  and  worse.  Here  has  he  taken  the 
whole  conquest  in  his  own  hand,  and  is  only  doubting 
whether  he  should  be  called  prince  or  bishop  ;  and  it  is  a 
shame  to  see  how  they  have  mishandled  the  old  man  among 
them." 

*'  I  will  not  permit  it,  Peterkin,"  said  Pavilion,  bustling 
up  ;  ''I  disliked  the  miter,  but  not  the  head  that  wore  it. 
We  are  ten  to  one  in  the  field,  Peterkin,  and  will  not  permit 
these  courses." 

*'  Ay,  ten  to  one  in  the  field,  but  only  man  to  man  in  the 
castle  ;  besides  that  Nikkei  Blok  the  butcher,  and  all  the 
rabble  of  the  suburbs,  take  part  with  William  de  la  Marck, 
partly  for  saus  and  hraus,  for  he  had  broached  all  the  ale- 
tubs  and  wine-casks,  and  partly  for  old  envy  towards  us, 
who  are  the  craftsmen,  and  have  privileges." 

'^  Peter,"  said  Pavilion,  "  we  will  go  presently  to  the 
city.     I  will  stay  no  longer  in  Schonwaldt." 

"But  the  bridges  of  this  castle  are  up,  master,"  said 
Geislaer ;  *'the  gates  locked,  and  guarded  by  these  lanz- 
knechts ;  and,  if  it  were  to  try  to  force  our  way,  these 
fellows,  whose  everyday  business  is  war,  might  make  wild 
work  of  us,  that  only  fight  of  a  holyday." 

''  But  why  has  he  secured  the  gates  ?  "  said  the  alarmed 
burgher  ;  *'  or  what  business  hath  he  to  make  honest  men 
prisoners  ?  " 

"  J  cftnnot  tell — ^not  1"  said  Peter.     *'  Some  noise  there 


QUENTIN  DUB  WARD  241 

is  about  the  Ladies  of  Croye,  who  have  escaped  during  the 
storm  of  the  castle.  That  first  put  the  Man  with  the  Beard 
beside  himself  with  anger,  and  now  he's  beside  himself  with 
drink  also." 

The  burgomaster  cast  a  disconsolate  look  towards  Quentin, 
and  seemed  at  a  loss  what  to  resolve  upon.  Durward,  who 
had  not  lost  a  word  of  the  conversation,  which  alarmed  him 
very  much,  saw  nevertheless  that  their  only  safety  depended 
on  his  preserving  his  own  presence  of  mind,  and  sustaining 
the  courage  of  Pavilion.  He  struck  boldly  into  the  conver- 
sation, as  one  who  had  a  right  to  have  a  voice  in  the  deliber- 
ation, ''lam  ashamed,''  he  said,  ''Meinherr  Pavilion,  to 
observe  you  hesitate  what  to  do  on  this  occasion.  Go  boldly 
to  William  de  la  Marck,  and  demand  free  leave  to  quit  the 
castle,  you,  your  lieutenant,  your  squire,  and  your  daughter. 
He  can  have  no  pretense  for  keeping  you  prisoner. " 

"  For  me  and  my  lieutenant — that  is  myself  and  Peter — 
good  ;  but  who  is  my  squire  ?  " 

'*I  am,  for  the  present,''  replied  the  undaunted  Scot. 

''You  !"  said  the  embarrassed  burgess;  "but  are  you 
not  the  envoy  of  King  Louis  of  France  ?  " 

"  True,  but  my  message  is  to  the  magistrates  of  Liege, 
and  only  in  Liege  will  I  deliver  it.  Were  I  to  acknowledge 
my  quality  before  William  de  la  Marck,  must  I  not  enter 
into  negotiation  with  him — ay,  and,  it  is  like,  be  detained 
by  him  ?  You  must  get  me  secretly  out  of  the  castle  in  the 
capacity  of  your  squire." 

"  Good — my  squire.  But  you  spoke  of  my  daughter  ;  my 
daughter  is,  I  trust,  safe  in  my  house  in  Liege — where  1 
wish  her  father  was,  with  all  my  heart  and  soul." 

"  This  lady,"  said  Durward,  "  will  call  you  father  while 
we  are  in  this  place." 

"  And  for  my  whole  life  afterwards,"  said  the  countess, 
throwing  herself  at  the  citizen's  feet  and  clasping  his  knees. 
"  Never  shall  the  day  pass  in  which  I  will  not  honor  you, 
love  you,  and  pray  for  you  as  a  daughter  for  a  father,  if 
you  will  but  aid  me  in  this  fearful  strait.  Oh,  be  not  hard- 
hearted !  think  your  own  daughter  may  kneel  to  a  stranger, 
to  ask  him  for  life  and  honor — think  of  this,  and  give  me 
the  protection  you  would  wish  her  to  receive  ! " 

"In  trcth,"  said  the  good  citizen,  much  moved  with  her 
pathetic  appeal,  "I  think,  Peter,  that  this  pretty  maiden 
hath  a  touch  of  our  Trudchen's  sweet  look, — I  thought  so 
from  the  first ;  and  that  this  brisk  youth  here,  who  is  so 
ready  with  his  advice,  is  somewhat  like  Trudchen's  bachelor- 
i6 


242  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

I  wager  a  groat,  Peter,  that  this  is  a  true-love  matter,  and 
it  is  a  sin  not  to  further  it/' 

''It  were  shame  and  sin  both,''  said  Peter,  a  good-natured 
Fleming,  notwithstanding  all  his  self-conceit;  and  as  he 
spoke  he  wiped  his  eyes  with  the  sleeve  of  his  jerkin. 

''  She  shall  be  my  daughter,  theu,''  said  Pavilion,  "  well 
wrapped  up  in  her  black  silk  veil ;  and  if  there  are  not 
enough  of  true-hearted  skinners  to  protect  her,  being  the 
daughter  of  their  syndic,  it  were  pity  they  should  ever  tug 
leather  more.  But  hark  ye,  questions  must  be  answered. 
How  if  I  am  asked  what  should  my  daughter  make  here  at 
such  an  onslaught  ?  " 

"  What  should  half  the  women  in  Liege  make  here  when 
they  followed  us  to  the  castle  ?  "  said  Peter  ;  "  they  had  no 
other  reason,  sure,  but  that  it  was  just  the  place  in  the 
world  that  they  should  not  have  come  to.  Our  yungfrau 
Trudchen  has  come  a  little  farther  than  the  rest,  that  is  all.'' 

''  Admirably  spoken,"  said  Quentin  :  "  only  be  bold,  and 
take  this  gentleman's  good  counsel,  noble  Meinherr  Pavilion, 
and,  at  no  trouble  to  yourself,  you  will  do  the  most  worthy 
action  since  the  days  of  Charlemagne.  Here,  sweet  lady, 
wrap  yourself  close  in  this  veil,"  for  many  articles  of  female 
apparel  lay  scattered  about  the  apartment ;  be  but  confident, 
and  a  few  minutes  will  place  you  in  freedom  and  safety. 
Noble  sir,"  he  added,  addressing  Pavilion,  ^'set  forward." 

''  Hold — hold — hold  a  minute,"  said  Pavilion,  "  my  mind 
misgives  me  !  This  De  la  Marck  is  a  fury — a  perfect  boar 
in  his  nature  as  in  his  name  ;  what  if  the  young  lady  be  one 
of  those  of  Croye  ?  and  what  if  he  discovers  her,  and  be  ad- 
dicted to  wrath  ?  " 

''  And  if  I  were  one  of  those  unfortunate  women,"  said 
Isabelle,  again  attempting  to  throw  herself  at  his  feet, 
''  could  you  for  that  reject  me  in  this  moment  of  despair  ? 
Oh,  that  I  had  been  indeed  your  daughter,  or  the  daughter 
of  the  poorest  burgher  ! " 

^'  Not  so  poor — not  so  poor  neither,  young  lady  ;  we  pay 
as  we  go,"  said  the  citizen. 

"Forgive  me,  noble  sir,"  again  began  the  unfortunate 
maiden. 

"  Not  noble,  nor  sir  neither,"  said  the  syndic  ;  "  a  plain 
burgher  of  Liege,  that  pays  bills  of  exchange  in  ready 
guilders.  But  that  is  nothing  to  the  purpose.  Well,  say 
you  he  a  countess,  I  will  protect  you  nevertheless." 

'*  You  are  bound  to  protect  her,  were  she  a  duchess," 
said  Peter,  *'  having  once  passed  your  word." 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  24fl 

"Right,  Peter,  very  right,"  said  the  syndic  ;  ''it  is  our 
old  Low  Dutch  fashion,  ein  wort,  eiu  mann  ;  and  now  let  us 
to  this  gear.  We  must  take  leave  of  this  William  de  la 
Marck  ;  and  yet  I  know  not,  my  mind  misgives  me  when  I 
think  of  him  ;  and  were  it  a  ceremony  which  could  be 
waived,  I  have  no  stomach  to  go  through  it." 

''  Were  you  not  better,  since  you  have  a  force  together, 
make  for  the  gate  and  force  the  guard  ?  "  said  Quentin. 

But  with  united  voice.  Pavilion  and  his  advisers  exclaimed 
against  the  propriety  of  such  an  attack  upon  their  ally's 
soldiers,  with  some  hints  concerning  its  rashness,  which  satis- 
fied Quentin  that  it  was  not  a  risk  to  be  hazarded  with  such 
associates.  They  resolved,  therefore,  to  repair  boldly  to  the 
great  hall  of  the  castle,  where,  as  they  understood,  the  Wild 
Boar  of  Ardennes  held  his  feast,  and  demand  free  egress  for 
the  syndic  of  Liege  and  his  company,  a  request  too  reason- 
able, as  it  seemed,  to  be  denied.  Still  the  good  burgomaster 
groaned  when  he  looked  on  his  companions,  and  exclaimed 
to  his  faithful  Peter,  "  See  what  it  is  to  have  too  bold  and 
too  tender  a  heart !  Alas  !  Perkin,  how  much  have  courage 
and  humanity  cost  me !  and  how  much  may  I  yet  have  to 
pay  for  my  virtues  before  Heaven  makes  us  free  of  this 
damned  castle  of  Schonwoldt  !  " 

As  they  crossed  the  court,  still  strewed  with  the  dying 
and  dead,  Quentin,  while  he  supported  Isabelle  through  the 
scene  of  horrors,  whispered  to  her  courage  and  comfort,  and 
reminded  her  that  her  safety  depended  entirely  on  her  firm- 
ness and  presence  of  mind. 

"Not  on  mine — not  on  mine,"  she  said,  "  but  on  yours — 
on  yours  only.  0,  if  I  but  escape  this  fearful  night,  never 
shall  I  forget  him  who  saved  me  !  One  favor  more  only  let 
me  implore  at  your  hand,  and  I  conjure  you  to  grant  it,  by 
your  mother's  fame  and  your  father's  honor  ! " 

"  What  is  it  you  can  ask  that  I  could  refuse  ?  "  said  Quen- 
tin in  a  whisper. 

"Plunge  your  dagger  in  my  heart," said  she,  "rather 
than  leave  me  captive  in  the  hands  of  these  monsters." 

Quentin's  only  answer  was  a  pressure  of  the  young 
countess's  hand,  which  seemed  as  if,  but  for  terror,  it  would 
have  returned  the  caress.  And,  leaning  on  her  youthful 
protector,  she  entered  the  fearful  hall,  preceded  by  Pavilion 
and  his  lieutenant,  and  followed  by  a  dozen  of  the  hur- 
schenschaft  [Mrschnerschaft]  or  skinner's  trade,  who  at- 
tended as  a  guard  of  honor  on  the  syndic. 

As  they  approached  the  hall,  the  yells  of  acclamation  and 


244 


WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 


bursts  of  wild  langhter,  which  proceeded  from  it,  seemed 
rather  to  announce  the  revel  of  festive  demons  rejoicing  after 
some  accomplished  triumph  over  the  human  race  than  of 
mortal  beings  who  had  succeeded  in  a  bold  design.  An 
emphatic  tone  of  mind,  which  despair  alone  could  have 
inspired,  supported  the  assumed  courage  of  the  Countess 
Isabelle;  undaunted  spirits,  which  rose  with  the  extremity, 
maintained  that  of  Durward  ;  while  Pavilion  and  his  lieu- 
tenant made  a  virtue  of  necessity,  and  faced  their  fate  like 
bears  bound  to  a  stake,  which  must  necessarily  stand  the 
dangers  of  the  coarse. 


I 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  REVELEES 

Cade.    Where's  Dick,  the  butcher  of  Ashford  ? 
Dick.    Here,  sir. 

Cade.    They  fell  before  thee  like  sheep  and  oxen  ;  and  thou  be^ 
navedst  thyself  as  if  thou  hadst  been  in  thine  own  slaughter-house. 

King  Henry  VI.,  Part  II. 

There  could  hardly  exist  a  more  strange  and  horrible  change 
than  had  taken  place  in  the  castle-hall  of  Schonwalt  since 
Quentin  had  partaken  of  the  noontide  meal  there  ;  and  it  was 
indeed  one  which  painted,  in  the  extremity  of  their  dread- 
ful features,  the  miseries  of  war — more  especially  when 
waged  by  those  most  relentless  of  all  agents,  the  mercernary 
soldiers  of  a  barbarous  age — men  who,  by  habit  and  profes- 
sion, had  become  familiarized  with  all  that  was  cruel  and 
bloody  in  the  art  of  war,  while  they  were  devoid  alike  of 
patriotism  and  of  the  romantic  spirit  of  chivalry. 

Instead  of  the  orderly,  decent,  and  somewhat  formal  meal, 
at  which  civil  and  ecclesiastical  officers  had,  a  few  hours 
before,  sat  mingled  in  the  same  apartment,  where  a  light 
jest  could  only  be  uttered  in  a  whisper,  and  where,  even 
amid  superfluity  of  feasting  and  of  wine,  there  reigned  a 
decorum  which  almost  amounted  to  hypocrisy,  there  was  now 
such  a  scene  of  wild  and  roaring  debauchery  as  Satan  him- 
self, had  he  taken  the  chair  as  founder  of  the  feast,  could 
scarcely  have  improved. 

At  the  head  of  the  table  sat,  in  the  bishop's  throne  and 
state,  which  had  been  hastily  brought  thither  from  his  great 
30uncil-chamber,  the  redoubted  Boar  of  Ardennes  himself, 
well  deserving  that  dreaded  name,  in  which  he  affected  to 
delight  and  which  he  did  as  much  as  he  could  think  of  to 
deserve.  His  head  was  unhelmeted,  but  he  wore  the  rest  of 
his  ponderous  and  bright  armor,  which  indeed  he  rarely 
laid  aside.  Over  his  shoulders  hung  a  strong  surcoat,  made 
of  the  dressed  skin  of  a  huge  wild  boar,  the  hoofs  being  of 
solid  silver  and  the  tusks  of  the  same.  The  skin  of  the  head 
was  so  arranged  that,  drawn  over  the  casque  when  the  baron 
was  armed,  or  over  his  bare  head,  in  the  fashion  of  a  hood, 

345 


246  WA  VEBLEY  NOVELS 

as  he  often  affected  when  the  helmet  was  laid  aside,  and  as  he 
now  wore  it,  the  effect  was  that  of  a  grinning,  ghastly  mon- 
ster ;  and  yet  the  countenance  which  it  overshadowed  scarce 
required  such  horrors  to  improve  those  which  were  natural 
to  its  ordinary  expression. 

The  upper  part  of  De  la  Marck's  face,  as  nature  had  formed 
it,  almost  gave  the  lie  to  his  character  ;  for  though  his  hair 
when  uncovered,  resembled  the  rude  and  wild  bristles  of  the 
hood  he  had  drawn  over  it,  yet  an  open,  high,  and  manly 
forehead,  broad  ruddy  cheeks,  large,  sparkling,  light-colored 
eyes,  and  a  nose  hooked  like  the  beak  of  the  eagle,  promised 
something  valiant  and  generous.  But  the  effect  of  these 
more  favorable  traits  was  entirely  overpowered  by  his  habits 
of  violence  and  insolence,  which,  joined  to  debauchery  and 
intemperance,  had  stamped  upon  the  features  a  character 
inconsistent  with  the  rough  gallantry  which  they  would 
otherwise  have  exhibited.  The  former  had,  from  habitual  in- 
dulgence, swollen  the  muscles  of  the  cheeks  and  those  around 
the  eyes,  in  particular  the  latter ;  evil  practises  and  habits 
had  dimmed  the  eyes  themselves,  reddened  the  part  of  them 
that  should  have  been  white,  and  given  the  whole  face  a 
hideous  likeness  of  the  monster  which  it  was  the  terrible 
baron^s  pleasure  to  resemble.  But  from  an  odd  sort  of  con- 
tradiction, De  la  Marck,  while  he  assumed  in  other  respects 
the  appearance  of  the  wild  boar,  and  even  seemed  pleased 
with  the  name,  yet  endeavored,  by  the  length  and  growth  of 
his  beard,  to  conceal  the  circumstance  that  had  originally 
procured  him  that  denomination.  This  was  an  unusual 
thickness  and  projection  of  the  mouth  and  upper  jaw,  which, 
with  the  huge  projecting  side  teeth,  gave  that  resemblance 
to  the  bestial  creation  which,  joined  to  the  delight  which  De 
la  Marck  had  in  haunting  the  forest  so  called,  originally 
procured  for  him  the  name  of  the  Boar  of  Ardennes.  The 
beard,  broad,  grisly,  and  uncombed,  neither  concealed  the 
natural  horrors  of  the  countenance  nor  dignified  its  brutal 
expression. 

The  soldiers  and  officers  sat  around  the  table,  intermixed 
with  the  nion  of  Liege,  some  of  them  of  the  very  lowest  de- 
scription ;  among  whom  Nikkei  Blok,  the  butcher,  placed 
near  De  la  Marck  himself,  was  distinguished  by  his  tucked- 
up  sleeves,  which  displayed  arms  smeared  to  the  elbows  with 
blood,  as  was  the  cleaver  which  lay  on  the  table  before  him. 
The  soldiers  wore,  most  of  them,  their  beards  long  and  grisly, 
in  imitation  of  their  leader  ;  had  their  hair  plaited  and  turned 
upwards   in  the  manner  that  might  best  improve  the  natural 


QUENTIN  DUBWARJ)  247 

ferocity  of  their  appearance  ;  and  intoxicated,  as  many  of 
them  seemed  to  be,  partly  with  the  sense  of  triumph,  and 
partly  with  the  long  libations  of  wine  which  they  had  been 
quaffing,  presented  a  spectacle  at  once  hideous  and  disgust- 
ing. The  language  which  they  held,  and  the  songs  which 
they  sung,  without  even  pretending  to  pay  each  other  the 
compliment  of  listening,  were  so  full  of  license  and  blas- 
phemy, that  Quentin  blessed  God  that  the  extremity  of  the 
noise  prevented  them  from  being  intelligible  to  his 
companion. 

It  only  remains  to  say,  of  the  better  class  of  burghers  who 
were  associated  with  William  de  la  Marck's  soldiers  in  this 
fearful  revel,  that  the  wan  faces  and  anxious  mien  of  the 
greater  part  showed  that  they  either  disliked  their  entertain- 
ment or  feared  their  companions  ;  while  some  of  lower  edu- 
cation, or  a  nature  more  brutal,  saw  only  in  the  excesses  of 
the  soldier  a  gallant  bearing,  which  they  would  willingly 
imitate,  and  the  tone  of  which  they  endeavored  to  catch  so 
far  as  was  possible,  and  stimulated  themselves  to  the  task  by 
swallowing  immense  draughts  of  wine  and  scliivarzhier — 
indulging  a  vice  which  at  all  times  was  too  common  in  the 
Low  Countries. 

The  preparations  for  the  feast  had  been  as  disorderly  as 
the  quality  of  the  company.  The  whole  of  the  bishop's 
plate — nay,  even  that  belonging  to  the  service  of  the  church, 
for  the  Boar  of  Ardennes  regarded  not  the  imputation  of 
sacrilege — was  mingled  with  blackjacks,  or  huge  tankards 
made  of  leather,  and  drinking-horns  of  the  most  ordinary 
description. 

One  circumstance  of  horror  remains  to  be  added  and  ac- 
counted for ;  and  we  willingly  leave  the  rest  of  the  scene  to 
the  imagination  of  the  reader.  Amidst  the  wild  license 
assumed  by  the  soldiers  of  De  la  Marck,  one  who  was  ex- 
cluded from  the  table — a  lanzknecht,  remarkable  for  his 
courage  and  for  his  daring  behavior  during  the  storm  of  the 
evening — had  impudently  snatched  up  a  large  silver  goblet 
and  carried  it  off,  declaring  it  should  atone  for  his  loss  of  the 
share  of  the  feast.  The  leader  laughed  till  his  sides  shook 
at  a  jest  so  congenial  to  the  character  of  the  company  ;  but 
when  another,  less  renowned,  it  would  seem,  for  audacity  in 
battle,  ventured  on  using  the  same  freedom,  De  la  Marck 
instantly  put  a  check  to  a  jocular  practise  which  would  soon 
have  cleared  his  table  of  all  the  more  valuable  decorations. 
*'  Ho  I  by  the  spirit  of  the  thunder  ! "  he  exclaimed,  '^  those 
who  dare  not  be  men  when  they  face  the  enemy  must  not 


248  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

pretend  to  be  thieves  among  their  friends.  What !  thou 
frontless  dastard,  thou — thou  who  didst  wait  for  opened 
gate  and  lowered  bridge,  when  Oonrade  Horst  forced  his 
way  over  moat  and  wall,  must  thou  be  malapert  ?  Knit  him 
up  to  the  stanchions  of  the  hall-window  !  He  shall  beat 
time  with  his  feet  while  we  drink  a  cup  to  his  safe  passage 
to  the  devil/' 

The  doom  was  scarce  sooner  pronounced  than  accom- 
plished ;  and  in  a  moment  the  wretch  wrestled  out  his  last 
agonies,  suspended  from  the  iron  bars.  His  body  still  hung 
there  when  Quentin  and  the  others  entered  the  hall,  and  in- 
tercepting the  pale  moonbeam,  threw  on  the  castle-floor  an 
uncertain  shadow,  which  dubiously,  yet  fearfully  intimated 
the  nature  of  the  substance  that  produced  it. 

When  the  syndic  Pavilion  was  announced  from  mouth  to 
mouth  in  this  tumultuous  meeting,  he  endeavored  to  assume, 
in  right  of  his  authority  and  influence,  an  air  of  importance 
and  equality,  which  a  glance  at  the  fearful  object  at  the 
window,  and  at  the  wild  scene  around  him,  rendered  it  very 
difficult  for  him  to  sustain,  notwithstanding  the  exhortations 
of  Peter,  who  whispered  in  his  ear,  with  some  perturbation, 
^^  Up  heart,  master,  or  we  are  but  gone  men  !  *' 

The  syndic  maintained  his  dignity,  however,  as  well  as  he 
could,  in  a  short  address,  in  which  he  complimented  the 
company  upon  the  great  victory  gained  by  the  soldiers  of  De 
la  Marck  and  the  good  citizens  of  Liege. 

'^Ay,''  answered  De  la  Marck,  sarcastically,  '^we  have 
brought  down  the  game  at  last,  quoth  my  lady's  brach  to 
the  wolf-hound.  But  ho  !  sir  burgomaster,  you  come  like 
Mars,  with  beauty  by  your  side.  Who  is  this  fair  one  ? 
Unveil — unveil ;  no  woman  calls  her  beauty  her  own  to- 
night.'' 

^*  It  is  my  daughter,  noble  leader,"  answered  Pavillion ; 
^'  and  I  am  to  pray  your  forgiveness  for  her  wearing  a  veil. 
She  has  a  vow  for  that  effect  to  the  Three  Blessed  Kings." 

"  I  will  absolve  her  of  it  presently,"  said  De  la  Marck  ; 
'^  for  here,  with  one  stroke  of  a  cleaver,  will  I  consecrate  my- 
self Bishop  of  Liege  ;  and  I  trust  one  living  bishop  is  worth 
three  dead  kings." 

There  was  a  shuddering  and  murmur  among  the  guests  ; 
for  the  community  of  Liege,  and  even  some  of  the  rude 
soldiers,  reverenced  the  Kings  of  Cologne,  as  they  were  com- 
monly called,  though  they  respected  nothing  else. 

''Nay,  I  mean  no  treason  against  their  defunct  majesties," 
said  De  la  Marck  j   "  only  bishop  I  am  determined  to  be.     A 


qUENTIN  DURWARD  249 

prince  both  secular  and  ecclesiastical,  having  power  to  bind 
and  loose,  will  best  suit  a  band  of  reprobates  such  as  you,  to 
whom  no  one  else  would  give  absolution.  But  come  hither, 
noble  burgomaster,  sit  beside  me,  when  you  shall  see  me  make 
a  vacancy  for  my  own  preferment.  Bring  in  our  predeces- 
sor in  the  holy  seat." 

A  bustle  took  place  in  the  hall,  while  Pavilion,  excusing 
himself  from  the  proffered  seat  of  honor,  placed  himself  near 
the  bottom  of  the  table,  his  followers  keeping  close  behind 
him,  not  unlike  a  flock  of  sheep  which,  when  a  stranger  dog 
is  in  presence,  may  be  sometimes  seen  to  assemble  in  the 
rear  of  an  old  bellwether,  who  is,  from  office  and  authority, 
judged  by  them  to  have  rather  more  courage  than  fchemselves. 
Near  the  spot  sat  a  very  handsome  lad,  a  natural  son,  as  was 
said,  of  the  ferocious  De  la  Marck,  and  towards  whom  he 
sometimes  showed  affection,  and  even  tenderness.  The 
mother  of  the  boy,  a  beautiful  concubine,  had  perished  by  a 
blow  dealt  her  by  the  ferocious  leader  in  a  fit  of  drunkenness 
or  jealousy  ;  and  her  fate  had  caused  her  tyrant  as  much 
remorse  as  he  was  capable  of  feeling.  His  attachment  to 
the  surviving  orphan  might  be  partly  owing  to  these  circum- 
stances. Quentin,  who  had  learned  this  point  of  the  leader*s 
character  from  the  old  priest,  planted  himself  as  close  as  he 
could  to  the  youth  in  question  ;  determined  to  make  him,  in 
some  way  or  other,  either  a  hostage  or  a  protector,  should 
other  means  of  safety  fail  them. 

While  all  stood  in  a  kind  of  suspense,  waiting  the  event  of 
the  orders  which  the  tyrant  had  issued,  one  of  Pavilion's  fol- 
lowers wliispered  Peter,  ^'  Did  not  our  master  call  that  wench 
his  daughter  ?  Why,  it  cannot  be  our  Trudchen.  This 
strapping  lass  is  taller  by  two  inches ;  and  there  is  a  black 
lock  of  her  hair  peeps  forth  yonder  from  under  her  veil. 
By  St.  Michael  of  the  market-place,  you  might  as  well  call  a 
black  bullock's  hide  a  white  heifer's  i" 

"Hush  !  hush  \"  said  Peter,  with  some  presence  of  mind. 
"  What  if  our  master  hath  a  mind  to  steal  a  piece  of  doe- 
venison  out  of  the  bishop's  park  here  without  our  good 
dame's  knowledge  ?  And  is  it  for  thee  or  me  to  be  a  spy  on 
him?" 

"  That  will  not  I,  brother,"  answered  the  other,  '^  though 
I  would  not  have  thought  of  his  turning  deer-stealer  at  his 
years.  Sapperment — what  a  shy  fairy  it  is  !  See  how  she 
crouches  down  on  yonder  seat,  behind  folk's  backs,  to  es- 
cape the  gaze  of  the  Marckers.  But  hold — hold  ;  what  are 
they  about  to  do  with  the  poor  old  bishop  ?" 


250  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

As  he  spoke,  the  Bishop  of  Liege,  Louis  of  Bourhon,  was 
dragged  into  the  hall  of  his  own  palace  by  the  brutal  soldiery. 
The  disheveled  state  of  his  hair,  beard,  and  attire  bore  wit- 
ness to  the  ill  treatment  he  had  already  received  ;  and  some 
of  his  sacerdotal  robes,  hastily  flung  over  him,  appeared  to 
have  been  put  on  in  scorn  and  ridicule  of  his  quality  and 
character.  By  good  fortune,  as  Quentin  was  compelled  to 
think  it,  the  Countess  Isabelle,  whose  feelings  at  seeing  her 
protector  in  such  an  extremity  might  have  betrayed  her  own 
secret  and  compromised  her  safety,  was  so  situated  as  neither 
to  hear  nor  see  what  was  about  to  take  place  ;  and  Durward 
sedulously  interposed  his  own  person  before  her,  so  as  to 
keep  her  from  observing  alike,  and  from  observation. 

The  scene  which  followed  was  short  and  fearful.  When 
the  unhappy  prelate  was  brought  before  the  footstool  of  the 
savage  leader,  although  in  former  life  only  remarkable  for 
his  easy  and  good-natured  temper,  he  showed  in  this  extrem- 
ity a  sense  of  his  dignity  and  noble  blood,  well  becoming 
the  high  race  from  which  he  was  descended.  His  look  was 
composed  and  undismayed ;  his  gesture,  when  the  rude 
hands  which  dragged  him  forward  were  unloosed,  was  noble, 
and  at  the  same  time  resigned,  somewhat  between  the  bear- 
ing of  a  feudal  noble  and  of  a  Christian  martyr;  and  so 
much  was  even  De  la  Marck  himself  staggered  by  the  firm 
demeanor  of  his  prisoner,  and  recollection  of  the  early  bene- 
fits he  had  received  from,  him,  that  he  seemed  irresolute, 
cast  down  his  eyes,  and  it  was  not  until  he  had  emptied  a 
large  goblet  of  wine,  that,  resuming  his  haughty  insolence 
of  look  and  manner,  he  thus  addressed  his  unfortunate  cap- 
tive : — "Louis  of  Bourbon,^'  said  the  truculent  soldier, 
drawing  hard  his  breath,  clenching  his  hands,  setting  his 
teeth,  and  using  the  other  mechanical  actions  to  rouse  up 
and  sustain  his  native  ferocity  of  temper,  "I  sought  your 
friendship,  and  you  rejected  mine.  What  would  you  now 
give  that  it  had  been  otherwise  ?    Nikkei,  be  ready." 

The  butcher  rose,  seized  his  weapon,  and  stealing  round 
behind  De  la  Marck's  chair,  stood  with  it  uplifted  in  his  bare 
and  sinewy  arms. 

*'  Look  at  that  man,  Louis  of  Bourbon,"  said  De  la  Marck 
again;  "what  terms  wilt  thou  now  offer  to  escape  this 
dangerous  hour  ?  " 

The  bishop  cast  a  melancholy  but  unshaken  look  upon  the 
grisly  satellite,  who  seemed  prepared  to  execute  the  will  of 
the  tyrant,  and  then  he  said  with  firmness,  "  Hear  me, 
William  De  la  Marck ;  and  good  men  all,  if  there  be  any 


Q  VENTtN  D  UR  WABB  261 

here  who  deserve  that  name,  hear  the  only  terms  I  can  offer 
to  this  ruffian.  William  de  la  Marck,  thou  hast  stirred  up 
to  sedition  an  imperial  city,  hast  assaulted  and  taken  the 
palace  of  a  prince  of  the  Holy  German  Empire,  slain  his 
people,  plundered  his  goods,  maltreated  his  person  ;  for  this 
thou  art  liable  to  the  ban  of  the  Empire — hast  deserved 
to  be  declared  outlawed  and  fugitive,  landless  and  rightless. 
Thou  hast  done  more  than  all  this.  More  than  mere  human 
laws  hast  thou  broken,  more  than  mere  human  vengeance 
hast  thou  deserved.  Thou  hast  broken  into  the  sanctuary 
of  the  Lord,  laid  violent  hands  upon  a  father  of  the  church, 
defiled  the  house  of  God  with  blood  and  rapine,  like  a 
sacrilegious  robber " 

*'  Hast  thou  yet  done  ?"  said  De  la  Marck  ;  fiercely  inter- 
rupting him,  and  stamping  with  his  foot. 

*'No,"  answered  the  prelate,  *'for  I  have  not  yet  told 
thee  the  terms  which  you  demanded  to  hear  from  me.'' 

"  Go  on,"  said  De  la  Marck  ;  ''and  let  the  terms  please 
me  better  than  the  preface,  or  woe  to  thy  gray  head  ! ''  And 
flinging  himself  back  to  his  seat,  he  grinded  his  teeth  till 
the  foam  flew  from  his  lips^  as  from  the  tusks  of  the  savage 
animal  whose  name  and  spoils  he  wore. 

''  Such  are  thy  crimes,''  resumed  the  bishop,  with  calm 
determination;  ''now  hear  the  terms  which,  as  a  merciful 
prince  and  a  Christian  prelate,  setting  aside  all  personal 
offense,  forgiving  each  peculiar  injury,  I  condescend  to  offer. 
Fling  down  thy  leading-staff,  renounce  thy  command,  un- 
bind thy  prisoners,  restore  thy  spoil,  distribute  what  else  thou 
hast  of  goods  to  relieve  those  whom  thou  hast  made  orphans 
and  widows,  array  thyself  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  take  a 
palmer's  staff  in  thy  hand,  and  go  barefooted  on  pilgrimage 
to  Rome,  and  we  will  ourselves  be  intercessors  for  thee  with 
the  Imperial  chamber  at  Ratisbon  for  thy  life,  with  our  Holy 
Father  the  Pope  for  thy  miserable  soul." 

While  Louis  of  Bourbon  proposed  these  terms  in  a  tone  as 
decided  as  if  he  still  occupied  his  episcopal  throne,  and  as  if 
the  usurper  kneeled  a  suppliant  at  his  feet,  the  tyrant  slowly 
raised  himself  in  his  chair,  the  amazement  with  which  he 
was  at  first  filled  giving  way  gradually  to  rage,  until,  as  the 
bishop  ceased,  he  looked  to  Nikkei  Blok,  and  raised  his 
finger,  without  speaking  a  word.  The  ruffian  struck,  as  if 
he  had  been  doing  his  office  in  the  common  shambles,  and  the 
murdered  bishop  sunk,  without  a  groan,  at  the  foot  of  his 
own  episcopal  throne.*  The  Liegeois,  who  were  not  prepared 
♦  See  Murder  of  the  Bishop  of  Liege.    Note  81. 


252  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

for  so  a  horrible  a  catastrophe,  and  who  had  expected  to  hear 
the  conference  end  in  some  terms  of  accommodation,  started 
up  unanimously,  with  cries  of  execration,  mingled  with 
shouts  of  vengeance. 

But  William  de  la  Marck,  raising  his  tremendous  voice 
above  the  tumult,  and  shaking  his  clenched  hand  and  ex- 
tended arm,  shouted  aloud,  ^'  How  now,  ye  porkers  of  Liege  ! 
ye  wallowers  in  the  mud  of  the  Maes  !  do  ye  dare  to  mate 
yourselves  with  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes  ?  Up,  ye  Boards 
brood  !  (an  expression  by  which  he  himself  and  others  often 
designated  his  soldiers)  let  these  Flemish  hogs  see  your 
tusks  !"' 

Every  one  of  his  followers  started  up  at  the  command,  and 
mingled  as  they  were  among  their  late  allies,  prepared  too 
for  such  a  surprisal,  each  had,  in  an  instant,  his  next  neigh- 
bor by  the  collar,  while  his  right  hand  brandished  a  bi-oad 
dagger  that  glimmered  against  lamplight  and  moonshine. 
Every  arm  was  uplifted,  but  no  one  struck  ;  for  the  victims 
were  too  much  surprised  for  resistance,  and  it  was  probably 
the  object  of  De  la  Marck  only  to  impose  terror  on  his  civic 
confederates. 

But  the  courage  of  Quentin  Durward,  prompt  and  alert 
in  resolution  beyond  his  years,  and  stimulated  at  the  moment 
by  all  that  could  add  energy  to  his  natural  shrewdness  and 
resolution,  gave  a  new  turn  to  the  scene.  Imitating  the 
action  of  the  followers  of  De  la  Marck,  he  sprung  on  Carl 
Eberson,  the  son  of  their  leader,  and  mastering  him  with 
ease,  held  his  dirk  at  the  boy's  throat,  while  he  exclaimed, 
'^  Is  that  your  game  ?  then  here  I  play  my  part.'' 

'^  Hold  !  hold  !  "  exclaimed  De  la  Marck,  '*  It  is  a  jest — a 
jest.  Think  you  I  would  injure  my  good  friends  and  allies 
of  the  city  of  Liege  ?  Soldiers,  unloose  your  holds  ;  sit 
down  :  take  away  the  carrion  (giving  the  bishop's  corpse  a 
thrust  with  his  foot),  which  hath  caused  this  strife  among 
friends,  and  let  us  drown  unkindness  in  afresh  carouse." 

All  unloosened  their  holds,  and  the  citizens  and  soldiers 
stood  gazing  on  each  other,  as  if  they  scarce  knew  whether 
they  were  friends  or  foes. 

Quentin  Durward  took  advantage  of  the  moment.  ^^  Hear 
me,"  he  said,  '^  William  de  la  Marck,  and  you,  burghers  and 
citizens  of  Liege  ;  and  do  you,  young  sir,  stand  still,"  for 
the  boy  Carl  was  attempting  to  escape  from  his  gripe,  "  no 
harm  shall  befall  you,  unless  another  of  these  sharp  jests 
shall  pass  round." 

**  Who  art  thou,  in  the  fiend's  name,"  said  the  astonished 


Q  UENTIN  D  UR  WA  RD  363 

Be  la  Marck,  ''  who  art  come  to  hold  terms  and  take  hostages 
from  us  in  our  own  lair — from  us,  who  exact  pledges  from 
others,  but  yield  them  to  no  one  ?  " 

*'  I  am  a  servant  of  King  Louis  of  France,^'  said  Quentin 
boldly  ;  ^'  an  archer  of  the  Scottish  Guard,  as  my  language 
and  dress  may  partly  tell  you.  I  am  here  to  behold  and  to 
report  your  proceedings  ;  and  I  see  with  wonder  that  they 
are  those  of  heathens  rather  than  Christians— of  madmen 
rather  than  men  possessed  of  reason.  The  hosts  of  Charles 
of  Burgundy  will  be  instantly  in  motion  against  you  all ;  and 
if  you  wish  assistance  from  France,  you  must  conduct  your- 
selves in  a  different  manner.  For  you,  men  of  Liege,  I 
advise  your  instant  return  to  your  own  city  ;  and  if  there  is 
any  obstruction  offered  to  your  departure,  I  denounce 
those  by  whom  it  is  so  offered  foes  to  my  master,  his  most 
gracious  Majesty  of  France." 

*'  France  and  Liege  !  France  and  Liege  ! ''  cried  the  fol- 
lowers of  Pavilion,  and  several  other  citizens,  whose  courage 
began  to  rise  at  the  bold  language  held  by  Quentin. 

"  France  and  Liege,  and  long  live  the  gallant  archer  !  We 
will  live  and  die  with  him  ! " 

William  de  la  Marck^s  eyes  sparkled,  and  he  grasped  his 
dagger  as  if  about  to  launch  it  at  the  heart  of  the  audacious 
speaker  ;  but  glancing  his  eye  around,  he  read  something  in 
the  looks  of  his  soldiers,  which  even  he  was  obliged  to 
respect.  Many  of  them  were  Frenchmen,  and  all  of  them 
knew  the  private  support  which  William  had  received,  both 
in  men  and  in  money,  from  that  kingdom  ;  nay,  some  of 
them  were  rather  startled  at  the  violent  and  sacrilegious 
action  which  had  been  just  committed.  The  name  of  Charles 
of  Burgundy,  a  person  likely  to  resent  to  the  utmost  the 
deeds  of  that  night,  had  an  alarming  sound,  and  the  extreme 
impolicy  of  at  once  quarreling  with  the  Liegeois  and  provok- 
ing the  monarch  of  France,  made  an  appalling  impression 
on  their  minds,  confused  as  their  intellects  were.  De  la 
Marck,  in  short,  saw  he  would  not  be  supported,  even  by 
his  own  band,  in  any  farther  act  of  immediate  violence,  and 
relaxing  the  terrors  of  his  brow  and  eye,  declared  that  '*  he 
had  not  the  least  design  against  his  good  friends  of  Liege, 
all  of  whom  were  at  liberty  to  depart  from  Schonwaldt  at 
their  pleasure,  although  he  had  hoped  they  would  revel  one 
night  with  him,  at  least,  in  honor  of  their  victory."  He 
added,  with  more  calmness  than  he  commonly  used,  that 
"  he  would  be  ready  to  enter  into  negotiation  concerning 
the  partition  of  spoil,  and  the  arrangement  of  measures  for 


254  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

their  mntnal  defense,  either  the  next  day,  or  as  soon  after 
as  they  would.  Meantime,  he  trusted  that  the  Scottish 
gentleman  would  honor  his  feast  by  remaining  all  night  at 
Schonwaldt/' 

The  young  Scot  returned  his  thanks,  but  said  his  motions 
must  be  determined  by  those  of  Pavilion,  to  whom  he  was 
directed  particularly  to  attach  himself  ;  but  that,  unques- 
tionably, he  would  attend  him  on  his  next  return  to  the 
quarters  of  the  valiant  William  de  la  Marck. 

"  If  you  depend  on  my  motions,"  said  Pavilion,  hastily 
and  aloud,  ''  you  are  likely  to  quit  Schonwaldt  without  an 
instant's  delay  ;  and,  if  you  do  not  come  back  to  Schonwaldt, 
save  in  my  company,  you  are  not  likely  to  see  it  again  in  a 
hurry/' 

This  last  part  of  the  sentence  the  honest  citizen  muttered 
to  himself,  afraid  of  the  consequences  of  giving  audible  vent 
to  feelings  which,  nevertheless,  he  was  unable  altogether  to 
suppress. 

'^  Keep  close  about  me,  my  brisk  hilrschner  lads,''  he  said 
to  his  body-guard,  '^and  we  will  get  as  fast  as  we  can  out  of 
this  den  of  thieves." 

Most  of  the  better  classes  of  the  Liegeois  seemed  to  enter- 
tain similar  opinions  with  the  syndic,  and  there  had  been 
scarce  so  much  joy  amongst  them  at  the  obtaining  possession 
of  Schonwaldt,  as  now  seemed  to  arise  from  the  prospect  of 
getting  safe  out  of  it.  They  were  suffered  to  leave  the  castle 
without  opposition  of  any  kind  ;  and  glad  was  Quentin  when 
he  turned  his  back  on  those  formidable  walls. 

For  the  first  time  since  they  had  entered  that  dreadful 
hall,  Quentin  ventured  to  ask  the  young  countess  how  she 
did. 

"  Well — well,"  she  answered,  in  feverish  haste,  ''  excel- 
lently well  ;  do  not  stop  to  ask  a  question  ;  let  us  not  lose 
an  instant  in  words.     Let  us  fly — let  us  fly  I  " 

She  endeavored  to  mend  her  pace  as  she  spoke  ;  but  with 
so  little  success  that  she  must  have  fallen  from  exhaustion 
had  not  Durward  supported  her.  With  the  tenderness  of  a 
mother,  when  she  conveys  her  infant  out  of  danger,  the 
young  Scot  raised  his  precious  charge  in  his  arms  ;  and, 
while  she  encircled  his  neck  with  one  arm,  lost  to  every 
other  thought  save  the  desire  of  escaping,  he  would  not  have 
wished  one  of  the  risks  of  the  night  unencountered,  since 
such  had  been  the  conclusion. 

The  honest  burgomaster  was,  in  his  turn,  supported  and 
dragged  forward  by  his  faithful  counselor  Peter  and  another 


QUENTIN  DURWABD  256 

of  his  clerks  ;  and  thus,  in  breathless  haste,  they  reached 
banks  of  the  river,  encountering  many  strolling  bands  of  citi- 
zens, who  were  eager  to  know  the  event  of  the  siege,  and  the 
truth  of  certain  rumors  already  afloat,  that  the  conquerors 
had  quarreled  among  themselves. 

Evading  their  curiosity  as  they  best  could,  the  exertions 
of  Peter  and  some  of  his  companions  at  length  procured  a 
boat  for  the  use  of  the  company,  and  with  it  an  opportunity 
of  enjoying  some  repose,  equally  welcome  to  Isabelle,  who 
continued  to  lie  almost  motionless  in  the  arms  of  her  pre- 
server, and  to  the  worthy  burgomaster,  who,  after  delivering 
a  broken  string  of  thanks  to  Durward,  whose  mind  was  at 
the  time  too  much  occupied  to  answer  him,  began  a  long 
harangue,  which  he  addressed  to  Peter,  upon  his  own  cour- 
age and  benevolence,  and  the  dangers  to  which  these  virtue? 
had  exposed  him  on  this  and  other  occasions. 

"  Peter — Peter,''  he  said,  resuming  the  complaint  of  the 
preceding  evening,  '^if  I  had  not  had  a  bold  heart,  I  would 
never  have  stood  out  against  paying  the  burghers'  twentieths, 
when  every  other  living  soul  was  willing  to  pay  the  same. 
Ay,  and  then  a  less  stout  heart  had  not  seduced  me  into  that 
other  battle  of  St.  Tron,  where  a  Hainault  man-at-arms 
thrust  me  into  a  muddy  ditch  with  his  lance,  which  neither 
heart  nor  hand  that  I  had  could  help  me  out  of  till  the  battle 
was  over.  Ay,  and  then,  Peter,  this  very  night  my  courage 
seduced  me,  moreover,  into  too  strait  a  corslet,  which  would 
have  been  the  death  of  me  but  for  the  aid  of  this  gallant 
young  gentleman,  whose  trade  is  fighting,  whereof  I  wish 
him  heartily  joy.  And  then  for  my  tenderness  of  heart, 
Peter,  it  has  made  a  poor  man  of  me — that  is,  it  would  have 
made  a  poor  man  of  me,  if  I  had  not  been  tolerably  well  to 
pass  in  this  wicked  world  ;  and  Heaven  knows  what  trouble 
it  is  like  to  bring  on  me  yet,  with  ladies,  countesses,  and 
keeping  of  secrets,  which,  for  aught  I  know,  may  cost  me 
half  my  fortune,  and  my  neck  into  the  bargain  ! " 

Quentin  could  remain  no  longer  silent,  but  assured  him 
that,  whatever  danger  or  damage  he  should  incur  on  the 
part  of  the  young  lady  now  under  his  protection  should  be 
thankfully  acknowledged,  and,  as  far  as  was  possible,  re- 
paid. 

"  I  thank  you,  young  master  squire  archer — I  thank 
you,"  answered  the  citizen  of  Liege  ;  ''but  who  was  it  told 
you  that  I  desired  any  repayment  at  your  hand  for  doing 
the  duty  of  an  honest  man  ?  I  only  regretted  that  it  might 
cost  me  so  and  so  ;  and  I  hope  I  may  have  leave  to  gay  so 


266  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

much  to  my  lieutenant,  without  either  grudging  my  loss  or 
my  peril/' 

Quentin  accordingly  concluded  that  his  present  friend  was 
one  of  the  numerous  class  of  benefactors  to  others,  who  take 
out  their  reward  in  grumbling,  without  meaning  more  than, 
by  showing  their  grievances,  to  exalt  a  little  the  idea  of  the 
valuable  service  by  which  they  have  incurred  them,  and  there- 
fore prudently  remained  silent,  and  suffered  the  syndic  to 
maunder  on  to  his  lieutenant  concerning  the  risk  and  the 
loss  he  had  encountered  by  his  zeal  for  the  public  good,  and 
his  disinterested  services  to  individuals,  until  they  reached 
his  own  habitation. 

The  truth  was,  that  the  honest  citizen  felt  that  he  had  lost 
a  little  consequence,  by  suffering  the  young  stranger  to  take 
the  lead  at  the  crisis  which  had  occurred  at  the  castle-hall  of 
Schonwaldt ;  and,  however  delighted  with  the  effect  of  Dur- 
ward's  interference  at  the  moment,  it  seemed  to  him,  on 
reflection,  that  he  had  sustained  a  diminution  of  importance, 
for  which  he  endeavored  to  obtain  compensation,  by  exagge- 
rating the  claims  which  he  had  upon  the  gratitude  of  his 
country  in  general,  his  friends  in  particular,  and  more 
especially  still,  on  the  Countess  of  Croye  and  her  youthful 
protector. 

But  when  the  boat  stopped  at  the  bottom  of  his  garden, 
and  he  had  got  himself  assisted  on  shore  by  Peter,  it  seemed 
as  if  the  touch  of  his  own  threshold  had  at  once  dissipated 
those  feelings  of  wounded  self-opinion  and  jealousy,  and  con- 
verted the  discontented  and  obscured  demagogue  into  the 
honest,  kind,  hospitable,  and  friendly  host.  He  called  loudly 
for  Trudchen,  who  presently  appeared  ;  for  fear  and  anxiety 
would  permit  few  within  the  walls  of  Liege  to  sleep  during 
that  eventful  night.  She  was  charged  to  pay  the  utmost  at- 
tention to  the  care  of  the  beautiful  and  half -fainting  stranger  ; 
and,  admiring  her  personal  charms,  while  she  pitied  her  dis- 
tress, Gertrude  discharged  the  hospitable  duty  with  the  zeal 
and  affection  of  a  sister. 

Late  as  it  now  was,  and  fatigued  as  the  syndic  appeared, 
Quentin,  on  his  side,  had  difficulty  to  escape  a  flask  of  choice 
and  costly  wine,  as  old  as  the  battle  of  Azincour  ;  and  must 
have  submitted  to  take  his  share,  however  unwilling,  but  for 
the  appearance  of  the  mother  of  the  family,  whom  Pavilion's 
loud  summons  for  the  keys  of  the  cellar  brought  forth  from 
her  bedroom.  She  was  a  jolly  little  roundabout  woman, 
who  had  been  pretty  in  her  time,  but  whose  principal 
characteristios  for  several  years  had  been  a  red  and  sharp 


J 


QUENTIN  DURWABD  267 

nose,  a  shrill  voice,  and  a  determination  that  the  syndic,  in 
consideration  of  the  authority  which  he  exercised  when 
abroad,  should  remain  under  the  rule  of  due  discipline  at 
home. 

So  soon  as  she  understood  the  nature  of  the  debate  between 
her  husband  and  his  guest,  she  declared  roundly,  that  the 
former,  instead  of  having  occasion  for  more  wine,  had  got  too 
much  already  ;  and  far  from  using,  in  furtherance  of  his  re- 
quest, any  of  the  huge  bunch  of  keys  which  hung  by  a  silver 
chain  at  her  waist,  she  turned  her  back  on  him  without  cere- 
mony, and  ushered  Quentin  to  the  neat  and  pleasant  apartment 
in  which  he  was  to  spend  the  night,  amid  such  appliances  to 
rest  and  comfort  as  probably  he  had  till  that  moment  been 
entirely  a  stranger  to  ;  so  much  did  the  wealthy  Flemings 
excel,  not  merely  the  poor  and  rude  Scots,  but  the  French 
themselves,  in  all  the  conveniences  of  domestic  life. 
«7 


CHAPTER  XXIIi 

THE  FLIGHT 

Now  bid  me  run. 
And  I  will  strive  with  things  impossible- 
Yea,  get  the  better  of  them. 

Set  on  your  foot ; 
And,  with  a  heart  new  fired,  I  follow  you 
To  do  I  know  not  what. 

Julius  Cce»ar. 

In  spite  of  a  mixture  of  joy  and  fear,  doubt,  anxiety,  and 
other  agitating  passions,  the  exhausting  fatigues  of  the  pre- 
ceding day  were  powerful  enough  to  throw  the  young  Scot 
into  a  deep  and  profound  repose,  which  lasted  until  late  on 
the  day  following  ;  when  his  worthy  host  entered  the  apart- 
ment, with  looks  of  care  on  his  brow. 

He  seated  himself  by  his  guest's  bedside,  and  began  a  long 
and  complicated  discourse  upon  the  domestic  duties  of  a 
married  life,  and  especially  upon  the  awful  power  and  right 
supremacy  which  it  became  married  men  to  sustain  in  all 
differences  of  opinion  with  their  wives.  Quentin  listened 
with  some  anxiety.  He  knew  that  husbands,  like  other 
belligerent  powers,  were  sometimes  disposed  to  sing  Te  Deum, 
rather  to  conceal  a  defeat  than  to  celebrate  a  victory  ;  and 
he  hastened  to  probe  the  matter  more  closely,  ^'  by  hoping 
their  arrival  had  been  attended  with  no  inconvenience  to  the 
good  lady  of  the  household. '' 

**  Inconvenience  !  no,"  answered  the  burgomaster.  "  No 
woman  can  be  less  taken  unawares  than  Mother  Mabel — 
always  happy  to  see  her  friends — always  a  clean  lodging  and 
a  handsome  meal  ready  for  them,  with  God's  blessing  on  bed 
and  board.  No  woman  on  earth  so  hospitable  ;  only'tis  pity 
her  temper  is  something  particular.^' 

*'  Our  residence  here  is  disagreeable  to  her,  in  short  ?"  said 
the  Scot,  starting  out  of  bed,  and  beginning  to  dress  himselfj 
hastily.     ^'  Were  I  but  sure  the  Lady  Isabelle  were  fit  foi 
travel  after  the  horrors  of  last  night,  we  would  not  incre 
the  offense  by  remaining  here  an  instant  longer. '' 

258 


QUJENTIN  DURWARD  25d 

"Nay/'  said  Pavilion,  *'that  is  just  what  the  young  lady 
herself  said  to  Mother  Mabel  ;  and  truly  1  wish  you  saw  the 
color  that  came  to  her  face  as  she  said  it — a  milkmaid  that 
has  skated  five  miles  to  market  against  the  frost-wind  is  a 
lily  compared  to  it — I  do  not  wonder  Mother  Mabel  may  be 
a  little  jealous,  poor  dear  soul/' 

'•  Has  the  Lady  Isabelle  then  left  her  apartment  ?"  said 
the  youth,  continuing  his  toilette  operations  with  more  de- 
spatch than  before. 

'^  Yes,"  replied  Pavilion;  ''and  she  expects  your  ap- 
proach with  much  impatience,  to  determine  which  way  you 
shall  go,  since  you  are  both  determined  on  going.  But  I 
trust  you  will  tarry  breakfast  ?  " 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  this  sooner  ?"  said  Durward 
impatiently. 

^'  Softly — softly,"  said  the  syndic  ;  ''  I  have  told  it  you  too 
soon,  I  think,  if  it  puts  you  into  such  a  hasty  fluster.  Now 
I  have  some  more  matter  for  your  ear,  if  I  saw  you  had  some 
patience  to  listen  to  me." 

"  Speak  it,  worthy  sir,  as  soon  and  as  fast  as  you  can ;  I 
listen  devoutly." 

''  Well,  then,"  resumed  the  burgomaster, ''  I  have  but  one 
word  to  say,  and  that  is,  that  Trudchen,  who  is  as  sorry  to 
part  with  yonder  pretty  lady  as  if  she  had  been  some  sister 
of  hers,  wants  you  to  take  some  other  disguise  ;  for  there  is 
word  in  the  town  that  the  Ladies  of  Croye  travel  the  coun- 
try in  pilgrim's  dresses,  attended  by  a  French  life-guards- 
man of  the  Scottish  Archers  ;  and  it  is  said  one  of  them  was 
brought  into  Schonwaldt  last  night  by  a  Bohemian  after  we 
had  left  it ;  and  it  was  said  still  farther,  that  this  same  Bohe- 
mian had  assured  William  dela  Marck  that  you  were  charged 
with  no  message  either  to  him  or  to  the  good  people  of  Liege, 
and  that  you  had  stolen  away  the  young  countess,  and  traveled 
with  her  as  her  paramour.  And  all  this  hews  hath  come 
from  Schonwaldt  this  morning ;  and  it  has  been  told  to  us 
and  the  other  counselors,  who  know  not  well  what  to  ad- 
vise ;  for  though  our  ( wn  opinion  is  that  William  de  la 
Marck  has  been  a  thought  too  rough  both  with  the  bishop 
and  with  ourselves,  yet  there  is  a  great  belief  that  he  is  a 
good-natured  soul  at  bottom — that  is,  when  he  is  sober — 
and  that  he  is  the  only  leader  in  the  world  to  command  us 
against  the  Duke  of  Burgundy — and,  in  truth,  as  matters 
stand,  it  is  partly  my  ovn  mind  that  we  must  keep  fair  with 
him,  for  we  have  gone  too  far  to  draw  back." 

"  JTour  daughter  advises  well,"  said  Quentin  Durward, 


M>  WA  VERLET  NO  VEL8, 

abstaining  from  reproaches  or  exhortations,  which  he  saw 
would  be  alike  unavailing  to  sway  a  resolution,  which  had 
been  adopted  by  the  worthy  magistrate  in  compliance  at 
once  with  the  prejudices  of  his  party  and  the  inclination  of 
his  wife  ;  ''  your  daughter  counsels  well.  We  must  part  in 
disguise  and  that  instantly.  We  may,  I  trust,  rely  upon 
you  for  the  necessary  secrecy,  and  for  the  means  of  escape  ?  " 

*'  With  all  my  heart — with  all  my  heart,''^  said  the  honest 
citizen,  who,  not  much  satisfied  with  the  dignity  of  his  own 
conduct,  was  eager  to  find  some  mode  of  atonement.  *'  I 
cannot  but  remember  that  I  owed  you  my  life  last  night, 
both  for  unclasping  that  accursed  steel  doublet,  and  helping 
me  through  the  other  scrape,  which  was  worse  ;  for  yonder 
Boar  and  his  brood  look  more  like  devils  than  men.  So  I  will 
be  true  to  you  as  blade  to  haft,  as  our  cutlers  say,  who  are  the 
best  in  the  whole  world.  Nay,  now  you  are  ready,  come 
this  way,  you  shall  see  how  far  I  can  trust  you.'' 

The  syndic  led  him  from  the  chamber  in  which  he  had 
slept  to  his  own  counting-room,  in  which  he  transacted  his 
affairs  of  business  ;  and  after  bolting  the  door,  and  casting  a 
piercing  and  careful  eye  around  him,  he  opened  a  concealed 
and  vaulted  closet  behind  the  tapestry,  in  which  stood  more 
than  one  iron  chest.  He  proceeded  to  open  one  which  was 
full  of  guilders,  and  placed  it  at  Quentin's  discretion  to  take 
whatever  sum  he  might  think  necessary  for  his  companion's 
expenses  and  his  own. 

As  the  money  with  which  Quentin  was  furnished  on  leav- 
ing Plessis  was  now  nearly  expended,  he  hesitated  not  to  ac- 
cept the  sum  of  two  hundred  guilders  ;  and  by  doing  so  took 
a  great  weight  from  the  mind  of  Pavilion,  who  considered 
the  desperate  transaction  in  which  he  thus  voluntarily  be- 
came the  creditor,  as  an  atonement  for  the  breach  of  hospi- 
tality which  various  considerations  in  a  great  measure  com- 
pelled him  to  commit. 

Having  carefully  locked  his  treasure-chamber,  the  wealthy 
Fleming  next  conveyed  his  guest  to  the  parlor,  where,  in 
full  possession  of  her  activity  of  mind  and  body,  though  pale 
from  the  scenes  of  the  preceding  night,  he  found  the  coun- 
tess attired  in  the  fashion  of  a  Flemish  maiden  of  the  mid- 
dling class.  No  other  was  present  excepting  Trudchen,  who 
was  sedulously  employed  in  completing  the  countess's  dress, 
and  instructing  her  how  to  bear  herself.  She  extended  her 
hand  to  him,  which,  when  he  had  reverently  kissed,  she  said 
to  him,  *'  Seignior  Quentin,  we  must  leave  our  friends  here, 
unless  I  would  bring  on  them  a  part  of  the  misery  which 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  261 

has  pursued  me  ever  since  my  father's  death.  You  must 
change  your  dress  and  go  with  me,  unless  you  also  are  tired 
of  befriending  a  being  so  unfortunate/' 

"  I ! — I  tired  of  being  your  attendant  !  To  the  end  of  the 
earth  will  I  guard  you  !  But  you — you  yourself — are  you 
equal  to  the  task  you  undertake  ?  Can  you,  after  the  terrors 
of  last  night " 

"  Do  not  recall  them  to  my  memory,"  answered  the  coun- 
tess ;  "  I  remember  but  the  confusion  of  a  horrid  dream. 
Has  the  excellent  bishop  escaped  ?  " 

''  I  trust  he  is  in  freedom,''  said  Quentin,  making  a  sign 
to  Pavilion,  who  seemed  about  to  enter  on  the  dreadful  nar- 
rative, to  be  silent. 

''  Is  it  possible  for  us  to  rejoin  him  ?  Hath  he  gathered 
any  power  ?  "  said  the  lady. 

*'  His  only  hopes  are  in  Heaven,"  said  the  Scot ;  "  but 
wherever  you  wish  to  go,  I  stand  by  your  side,  a  determined 
guide  and  guard." 

"  We  will  consider,"  said  Isabelle  ;  and  after  a  moment's 
pause,  she  added,  '^  A  convent  would  be  my  choice,  but  that 
I  fear  it  would  prove  a  weak  defense  against  those  who  pur- 
sue me." 

'*Hem  !  hem  !"  said  the  syndic,  ''  I  could  not  well  rec- 
ommend a  convent  within  the  district  of  Liege ;  because 
the  Boar  of  Ardennes,  though  in  the  main  a  brave  leader,  a 
trusty  confederate,  and  a  well-wisher  to  our  city,  has,  never- 
theless, rough  humors,  and  payeth,  on  the  whole,  little  re- 
gard to  cloisters,  convents,  nunneries,  and  the  like.  Men 
say  that  there  are  a  score  of  nuns — that  is,  such  as  were 
nuns — who  march  always  with  his  company." 

'*  Get  yourself  in  readiness  hastily,  Seignior  Durward," 
said  Isabelle,  interrupting  this  detail,  ''since  to  your  faith  I 
must  needs  commit  myself." 

No  sooner  had  the  syndic  and  Quentin  left  the  room  than 
Isabelle  began  to  ask  of  Gertrude  various  questions  concern- 
ing the  roads,  and  so  forth,  with  such  clearness  of  spirit  and 
pertinence  that  the  latter  could  not  help  exclaiming,  "  Lady, 
I  wonder  at  you  !  I  have  heard  of  masculine  firmness,  but 
yours  appears  to  me  more  than  belongs  to  humanity." 

"Necessity,"  answered  the  countess — ''necessity,  my 
friend,  is  the  mother  of  courage,  as  of  invention.  No  long 
time  since,  I  might  have  fainted  when  I  saw  a  drop  of-  blood 
shed  from  a  trifling  cut ;  I  have  since  seen  life-blood  flow 
around  me,  I  may  say,  in  waves,  yet  I  have  retained  my 
BensoB  and  my  self-possession.      Do  not  think  it  was  an  easy 


262  , WA VERLEY  NOVELS 

task/'  she  added,  laying  on  Gertrude's  arm  a  trembling  hand, 
i),lthough  she  still  spoke  with  a  firm  voice  ;  "  the  little  world 
within  me  is  like  a  garrison  besieged  by  a  thousand  foes, 
whom  nothing  but  the  most  determined  resolution  can  keep 
from  storming  it  on  every  hand,  and  at  every  moment.  Were 
my  situation  one  whit  less  perilous  than  it  is^were  I  not 
sensible  that  my  only  chance  to  escape  a  fate  more  horrible 
than  death  is  to  retain  my  recollection  and  self-possession — 
Gertrude,  I  would  at  this  moment  throw  myself  into  your 
arms,  and  relieve  my  bursting  bosom  by  such  a  transport  of 
tears  and  agony  of  terror  as  never  rushed  from  a  breaking 
heart!'' 

"Do  not  do  so,  lady  \"  said  the  sympathizing  Fleming; 
'Hake  courage,  tell  your  beads,  throw  yourself  on  the  care 
of  Heaven  ;  and  surely,  if  ever  Heaven  sent  a  deliverer  to 
one  ready  to  perish,  that  bold  and  adventurous  young  gentle- 
man must  be  designed  for  yours.  There  is  one,  too,"  she 
added,  blushing  deeply,  "  in  whom  I  have  some  interest. 
Say  nothing  to  m^y  father  ;  but  I  have  ordered  my  bachelor, 
Hans  Glover,  to  wait  for  you  at  the  eastern  gate,  and  never 
to  see  my  face  more,  unless  he  brings  word  that  he  has 
guided  you  safe  from  the  territory.'' 

To  kiss  her  tenderly  was  the  only  way  in  which  the  young 
countess  could  express  her  thanks  to  the  frank  and  kind- 
hearted  city-maiden,  who  returned  the  embrace  aifectionately, 
and  added,  with  a  smile,  "  Nay,  if  two  maidens  and  their 
devoted  bachelors  cannot  succeed  in  a  disguise  and  an  escape, 
the  world  is  changed  from  what  I  am  told  it  wont  to  be." 

A  part  of  this  speech  again  called  the  color  into  the  coun- 
tess's pale  cheeks,  which  was  not  lessened  by  Quentin's  sud- 
den appearance.  He  entered  completely  attired  as  a  Flemish 
boor  of  the  better  class,  in  the  holiday  suit  of  Peter,  who  ex- 
pressed his  interest  in  the  young  Scot  by  the  readiness  with 
which  he  parted  with  it  for  his  use  ;  and  swore,  at  the  same 
time,  that,  were  he  to  be  curried  and  tugged  worse  than  ever 
was  bullock's  hide,  they  should  make  nothing  out  of  him,  to 
the  betraying  of  the  young  folks.  Two  stout  horses  had 
been  provided  by  the  activity  of  Mother  Mabel,  who  really 
desired  the  countess  and  her  attendant  no  harm,  so  that  she 
could  make  her  own  house  and  family  clear  of  the  dangers 
which  might  attend  upon  harboring  them.  She  beheld  them 
mount  and  go  oif  with  great  satisfaction,  after  telling  them 
that  they  would  find  their  way  to  the  east  gate  by  keeping  their 
eye  on  Peter,  who  was  to  walk  in  that  direction  as  their  guide, 
but  without  holding  any  visible  communication  with  them. 


QUENTIN  D UR  WABD  263 

The  instant  her  guests  had  departed.  Mother  Mabel  took 
the  opportunity  to  read  a  long  practical  lecture  to  Trudchen 
upon  the  folly  of  reading  romances,  whereby  the  flaunting 
ladies  of  the  court  were  grown  so  bold  and  venturous,  that, 
histead  of  applying  to  learn  some  honest  housewifery,  they 
must  ride,  forsooth,  a  damsel-erranting  through  the  country, 
with  no  better  attendant  than  some  idle  squire,  debauched 
page,  or  rakehelly  archer  from  foreign  parts,  to  the  great 
danger  of  their  health,  the  impoverishing  of  their  substance, 
and  the  irreparable  prejudice  of  their  reputation. 

All  this  Gertrude  heard  in  silence,  and  without  reply  ;  but, 
considering  her  character,  it  might  be  doubted  whether  she 
derived  from  it  the  practical  inference  which  it  was  her 
mother's  purpose  to  enforce. 

Meantime,  the  travelers  had  gained  the  eastern  gate  of 
the  city,  traversing  crowds  of  people,  who  were  fortunately 
too  much  busied  in  the  political  events  and  rumors  of  the  hour 
to  give  any  attention  to  a  couple  who  had  so  little  to  render 
their  appearance  remarkable.  They  passed  the  guards  in 
virtue  of  a  permission  obtained  for  them  by  Pavilion,  but  in 
the  name  of  his  colleague  Rouslaer,  and  they  took  leave  of 
Peter  Geislaer  with  a  friendly  though  brief  exchange  of  good 
wishes  on  either  side.  Immediately  afterwards  .  they  were 
joined  by  a  stout  young  man,  riding  a  good  gray  horse,  who 
presently  made  himself  known  as  Hans  Glover,  the  bachelor 
of  Trudchen  Pavilion.  He  was  a  young  fellow  with  a  good 
Flemish  countenance — not,  indeed,  of  the  most  intellectual 
cast,  but  arguing  more  hilarity  and  good-humor  than  wit, 
and,  as  the  countess  could  not  help  thinking,  scarce  worthy 
to  be  bachelor  to  the  generous  Trudchen.  He  seemed,  how- 
ever, fully  desirous  to  second  the  views  which  she  had  formed 
in  their  favor  ;  for,  saluting  them  respectfully,  he  asked  of 
the  countess  in  Flemish,  on  which  road  she  desired  to  be 
conducted. 

*'  Guide  me,"  said  she,  ''towards  the  nearest  town  on  the 
frontiers  of  Brabant." 

*'  You  have  then  settled  the  end  and  object  of  your 
journey  ?  "  said  Quentin,  approaching  his  horse  to  that  of 
Isabelle,  and  speaking  French,  which  their  guide  did  not 
understand. 

*'  Surely,"  replied  the  young  lady  ;  '^  for  situated  as  I  now 
am,  it  must  be  of  no  small  detriment  to  me  if  I  were  to  pro- 
long a  journey  in  my  present  circumstances,  even  though  the 
termination  should  be  a  rigorous  prison," 

"  A  prison  ! "  said  Quentin, 


264  WAVER  LEY  NOVELS 

"  Yes,  my  friend,  a  prison  ;  but  I  will  take  care  that  you 
shall  not  share  it/' 

*'  Do  not  talk — do  not  think  of.  me,''  said  Quentin.  "  Saw 
I  you  but  safe,  my  own  concerns  are  little  worth  mind- 
ing/' 

''Do  not  speak  so  loud,'*  said  the  Lady  Isabelle  ;  ''you 
will  surprise  our  guide — you  see  he  has  already  rode  on 
before  us  "  ;  for,  in  truth,  the  good-natured  Fleming,  doing 
as  he  desired  to  be  done  by,  had  removed  from  them  the 
constraint  of  a  third,  person  upon  Quentin's  first  motion 
towards  the  lady.  "  Yes,''  she  continued,  when  she  noticed 
they  were  free  from  observation,  "  to  you,  my  friend,  my 
protector — why  should  I  be  ashamed  to  call  you  what  Heaven 
has  made  you  to  me  ? — to  you  it  is  my  duty  to  say,  that  my 
resolution  is  taken  to  return  to  my  native  country,  and 
to  throw  myself  on  the  mercy  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy. 
It  was  mistaken,  though  well-meant,  advice  which  induced 
me  ever  to  withdraw  from  his  protection,  and  place  my- 
self under  that  of   the  crafty  and  false  Louis  of  France." 

"  And  you  resolve  to  become  the  bride,  then,  of  the  Count 
of  Campo-basso,  the  unworthy  favorite  of  Charles  ? " 

Thus  spoke  Quentin,  with  a  voice  in  which  internal  agony 
struggled  with  his  desire  to  assume  an  indifferent  tone,  like 
that  of  the  poor  condemned  criminal,  when,  affecting  a 
firmness  which  he  is  far  from  feeling,  he  asks  if  the  death- 
warrant  be  arrived. 

"  No,  Durward,  no,"  said  the  Lady  Isabelle,  sitting  up 
erect  in  her  saddle,  "to  that  condition  all  Burgundy's 
power  shall  not  sink  a  daughter  of  the  house  of  Croye. 
Burgundy  may  seize  on  my  lands  and  fiefs,  he  may  imprison 
my  person  in  a  convent ;  but  that  is  the  worst  I  have  to 
expect ;  and  worse  than  that  I  will  endure  ere  I  give  my 
hand  to  Campo-basso." 

"  The  worst !  "  said  Quentin  ;  "  and  what  worse  can  there 
be  than  plunder  and  imprisonment  ?  Oh,  think,  while  you 
have  God's  free  air  around  you,  and  one  by  your  side  who  will 
hazard  life  to  conduct  you  to  England,  to  Germany,  even  to 
Scotland,  in  all  of  which  you  shall  find  generous  protectors. 
0,  while  this  is  the  case,  do  not  resolve  so  rashly  to  abandon 
the  means  of  liberty,  the  best  gift  that  Heaven  gives  !  0,, 
well  sung  a  poet  of  my  own  land — 

Ah,  freedom  is  a  noble  thing ; 
Freedom  makes  man  to  have  liking ; 
Freedom  the  zest  to  pleasure  gives  ; 
He  lives  at  ease  who  freely  lives. 


I 


Q VEN TIN  D UR  WARD  265 

Grief,  sickness,  i)oortith,  want,  are  all 
Summ'd  up  within  the  name  of  thrall.* 

She  listened  with  a  melancholy  smile  to  her  guide's  tirade 
in  praise  of  liberty  ;  and  then  answered  after  a  moment's 
pause,  '^  Freedom  is  for  man  alone  ;  woman  must  ever  seek 
a  protector,  since  nature  made  her  incapable  to  defend  her- 
self. And  where  am  I  to  find  one  ?  In  that  voluptuary 
Edward  of  England — in  the  inebriated  Wenceslaus  of 
Germany — in  Scotland  ?  Ah,  Durward,  were  I  your  sister, 
and  could  you  promise  me  shelter  in  some  of  those  mountain- 
glens  which  you  love  to  describe,  where,  for  charity,  or  for 
the  few  jewels  I  have  preserved,  I  might  lead  an  unharassed 
life,  and  forget  the  lot  I  was  born  to — could  you  promise  me 
the  protection  of  some  honored  matron  of  the  land — of  some 
baron  whose  heart  was  as  true  as  his  sword — that  were  in- 
deed a  prospect,  for  which  it  were  worth  the  risk  of  farther 
censure  to  wander  farther  and  wider  !  " 

There  was  a  faltering  tenderness  of  voice  with  which  the 
Countess  Isabelle  made  this  admission,  that  at  once  filled 
Quentin  with  a  sensation  of  joy,  and  cut  him  to  the  very 
heart.  He  hesitated  a  moment  ere  he  made  an  answer, 
hastily  reviewing  in  his  mind  the  possibility  there  might  be 
that  he  could  procure  her  shelter  in  Scotland  ;  but  the 
melancholy  truth  rushed  on  him,  that  it  would  be  alike  base 
and  cruel  to  point  out  to  her  a  course  which  he  had  not  the 
most  distant  power  or  means  to  render  safe.  "  Lady,"  he 
said  at  last,  *'  I  should  act  foully  against  my  honor  and 
oath  of  chivalry  did  I  suffer  you  to  ground  any  plan  upon 
the  thoughts  that  I  have  the  power  in  Scotland  to  afford  you 
other  protection  than  that  of  the  poor  arm  which  is  now  by 
your  side.  I  scarce  know  that  my  blood  flows  in  the  veins 
of  an  individual  who  now  lives  in  my  native  land.  The 
Knight  of  Innerquharity  stormed  our  castle  at  midnight, 
and  cut  off  all  that  belonged  to  my  name.  Were  I  again  in 
Scotland,  our  feudal  enemies  are  numerous  and  powerful,  I 
single  and  weak  ;  and  even  had  the  king  a  desire  to  do  me 
justice,  he  dared  not,  for  the  sake  of  redressing  the  wrongs 
of  a  poor  individual,  provoke  a  chief  who  rides  with  five 
hundred  horse." 

"Alas  !"  said  the  countess,  "there  is  then  no  corner  of 
the  world  safe  from  oppression,  since  it  rages  as  unrestrained 

*  These  noble  lines  form  the  commencement  of  the  metrical  life 
of  Robert  the  Bruce,  by  Barbour,  Archdeacon  of  Aberdeen  in  the 
year  1375  (Laing), 


266  WAVEBLE^  ISOVELS 

amongst  those  wild  hills  which  afford  so  few  objects  to  covet, 
as  in  our  rich  and  abundant  lowlands  ! " 

"  It  is  a  sad  truth,  and  I  dare  not  deny  it/'  said  the  Scot, 
*'  that,  for  little  more  than  the  pleasure  of  revenge  and  the 
lust  of  bloodshed,  our  hostile  clans  do  the  work  of  execu- 
tioners on  each  other ;  and  Ogilvies  and  the  like  act  the 
same  scenes  in  Scotland  as  De  la  Marck  and  his  robbers  do 
in  this  country/' 

''  No  more  of  Scotland,  then,"  said  Isabelle,  with  a  tone 
of  indifference,  either  real  or  affected — *'no  more  of  Scot- 
land, which  indeed  I  mentioned  but  in  jest,  to  see  if  you 
really  dared  recommend  to  me,  as  a  place  of  rest,  the  most 
distracted  kingdom  in  Europe.  It  was  but  a  trial  of  your 
sincerity,  which  I  rejoice  to  say  may  be  relied  on,  even  when 
your  partialities  are  most  strongly  excited.  So,  once  more, 
I  will  think  of  no  other  protection  than  can  be  afforded  by 
the  first  honorable  baron  holding  of  Duke  Charles,  to  whom 
I  am  determined  to  render  myself." 

"  And  why  not  rather  betake  yourself  to  your  own 
estates,  and  to  your  own  strong  castle,  as  you  designed  when 
at  Tours  ?"  said  Quentin.  "Why  not  call  around  you  the 
vassals  of  your  father,  and  make  treaty  with  Burgundy, 
rather  than  surrender  yourself  to  him  ?  Surely  there  must 
be  many  a  bold  heart  that  would  fight  in  your  cause  ;  and  I 
know  at  least  one  who  would  willingly  lay  down  his  life  to 
give  example." 

"  Alas  !  "  said  the  countess,  "that  scheme,  the  suggestion 
of  the  crafty  Louis,  and,  like  all  which  he  ever  suggested, 
designed  more  for  his  advantage  than  for  mine,  has  become 
impracticable,  since  it  was  betrayed  to  Burgundy  by  the 
double  traitor  Zamet  Maugrabin.  My  kinsman  was  then 
imprisoned,  and  my  houses  garrisoned.  Any  attempt  of 
mine  would  but  expose  my  dependents  to  the  vengeance  of 
Duke  Charles ;  and  why  should  I  occasion  more  bloodshed 
than  has  already  taken  place  on  so  worthless  an  account  ? 
No,  I  will  submit  myself  to  my  sovereign  as  a  dutiful  vassal, 
in  all  which  shall  leave  my  personal  freedom  of  choice 
uninfringed  ;  the  rather  that  I  trust  my  kinswoman,  the 
Countess  Hameline,  who  first  counseled,  and  indeed  urged 
my  flight,  has  already  taken  this  wise  and  honorable  step." 

"Your  kinswoman!"  repeated  Quentin,  awakened  to 
recollections  to  which  the  young  countess  was  a  stranger, 
and  which  the  rapid  succession  of  perilous  and  stirring 
events  had,  as  matters  of  nearer  concern,  in  fact  banished 
from  his  memory. 


qUENTIN  DURWARD  261 

''  Ay,  my  annt,  the  Countess  Ilameline  of  Groyne — know 
yoaanght  of  her?"  said  the  Countess  Isabelle ;  "I  trust 
she  is  now  under  the  protection  of  the  Burgundian  banner. 
You  are  silent  !     Know  you  aught  of  her  ?  " 

The  last  question,  urged  in  a  tone  of  the  most  anxious 
inquiry,  obliged  Quentin  to  give  some  account  of  what  he 
knew  of  the  countess's  fate.  He  mentioned  that  he  had 
been  summoned  to  attend  her  in  a  flight  from  Liege,  which 
he  had  no  doubt  the  Lady  Isabelle  would  be  partaker  in  ;  he 
mentioned  the  discovery  that  had  been  made  after  they  had 
gained  the  forest ;  and  finally,  he  told  his  own  return  to  the 
castle,  and  the  circumstances  in  which  he  found  it.  But  he 
said  nothing  of  the  views  with  which  it  was  plain  the  Lady 
Hameline  had  left  the  castle  of  Schonwaldt,  and  as  little 
about  the  floating  report  of  her  having  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  William  de  la  Marck.  Delicacy  prevented  his  even  hint- 
ing at  the  one,  and  regard  for  the  feelings  of  his  companion, 
at  a  moment  when  strength  and  exertion  were  most  de- 
manded of  her,  prevented  him  from  alluding  to  the  latter, 
which  had,  besides,  only  reached  him  as  a  mere  rumor. 

This  tale,  though  abridged  of  those  important  particulars, 
made  a  strong  impression  on  the  Countess  Isabelle,  who, 
after  riding  some  time  in  silence,  said  at  last,  with  a  tone  of 
cold  displeasure,  '^  And  so  you  abandoned  my  unfortunate 
relative  in  a  wild  forest,  at  the  mercy  of  a  vile  Bohemian  and 
a  traitorous  waiting-woman  ?  Poor  kinswoman,  thou  wert 
wont  to  praise  this  youth's  good  faith  ! " 

''  Had  I  not  done  so,  madam,''  said  Quentin,  not  unreas- 
onably offended  at  the  turn  thus  given  to  his  gallantry, 
"  what  had  been  the  fate  of  one  to  whose  service  I  was  far 
more  devoutly  bound  ?  Had  I  not  left  the  Countess  Hame- 
line of  Croye  to  the  charge  of  those  whom  she  had  herself 
selected  as  counselors  and  advisers,  the  Countess  Isabelle  had 
been  ere  now  the  bride  of  William  de  la  Marck,  the  Wild 
Boar  of  Ardennes.'' 

'*  You  are  right,"  said  the  Countess  Isabelle,  in  her  usual 
manner  ;  ''  and  I,  who  have  the  advantage  of  your  unhesi- 
tating devotion,  have  done  you  foul  and  ungrateful  wrong. 
But  oh,  my  unhappy  kinswoman  !  and  the  wretch  Marthon, 
who  enjoyed  so  much  of  her  confidence,  and  deserved  it  so 
little — it  was  she  that  introduced  to  my  kinswoman  the 
wretched  Zamet  and  Hayraddin  Maugrabin,  who,  by  their 
pretended  knowledge  in  soothsaying  and  astrology,  obtained 
a  great  ascendency  over  her  mind  ;  it  was  she  wlio,  strength- 
ening their  predictions,  encouraged  her  in — I  know  not  what 


268  WA  VEBLEY  NOVELS 

to  call  them — delusions  concerning  matches  and  lovers, 
which  my  kinswoman's  age  rendered  ungraceful  and  im- 
probable. I  doubt  not  that,  from  the  beginning,  we  had 
been  surrounded  by  these  snares  by  Louis  of  France,  in 
order  to  determine  us  to  take  refuge  at  his  court,  or  rather 
to  put  ourselves  into  his  power  ;  after  which  rash  act  on  our 
part,  how  unkingly,  unknightly,  ignobly,  ungentlemanlike, 
he  hath  conducted  himself  towards  us,  you,  Quentin 
Durward,  can  bear  witness.  But  alas  !  my  kinswoman — 
what  think  you  will  be  her  fate  ?  " 

Endeavoring  to  inspire  hopes  which  he  scarce  felt,  Dur- 
ward answered,  that  ^*  The  avarice  of  these  people  was  stron- 
ger than  any  other  passion  ;  that  Marthon,  even  when  he 
left  them,  seemed  to  act  rather  as  the  Lady  Hameline's  pro- 
tectress ;  and,  in  fine,  that  it  was  difficult  to  conceive  any 
object  these  wretches  could  accomplish  by  the  ill  usage  or 
murder  of  the  countess,  whereas  they  might  be  gainers  by 
treating  her  well,  and  putting  her  to  ransom. '^ 

To  lead  the  Countess  Isabelle's  thoughts  from  this  mel- 
ancholy subject,  Quentin  frankly  told  her  the  treachery  of 
the  Maugrabin,  which  he  had  discovered  in  the  night- 
quarter  near  Namur,  and  which  appeared  the  result  of  an 
agreement  betwixt  the  King  and  William  de  la  Marck. 
Isabelle  shuddered  with  horror,  and  then  recovering  herself, 
said,  "  I  am  ashamed,  and  I  have  sinned  in  permitting  my- 
self so  far  to  doubt  of  the  saints'  protection,  as  for  an  instant 
to  have  deemed  possible  the  accomplishment  of  a  scheme  to 
utterly  cruel,  base,  and  dishonorable,  while  there  are  pitying 
eyes  in  Heaven  to  look  down  on  human  miseries.  It  is  not 
a  thing  to  be  thought  of  with  fear  or  abhorrence,  but  to  be 
rejected  as  such  a  piece  of  incredible  treachery  and  villainy 
as  it  were  atheism  to  believe  could  ever  be  successful.  But 
I  now  see  plainly  why  that  hypocritical  Marthon  often 
seemed  to  foster  every  seed  of  petty  jealousy  or  discontent 
betwixt  my  poor  kinswoman  and  myself,  whilst  she  always 
mixed  with  flattery,  addressed  to  the  individual  who  was 
present,  whatever  could  prejudice  her  against  her  absent 
Kinswoman.  Yet  never  did  I  dream  she  could  have  pro- 
ceeded as  far  as  to  have  caused  my  once  affectionate  kins- 
woman to  have  left  me  behind  in  the  perils  of  Schonwaldt, 
while  she  made  her  own  escape." 

"  Did  the  Lady  Hameline  not  mention  to  you,  then,*'  said 
Quentin,  "  her  intended  flight  ?" 

"  No,"  replied  the  countess,  ''  but  she  alluded  to  some 
communication  which  Marthon  was  to  make  to  me.     To  say 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  269 

truth,  my  poor  kinswoman's  head  was  so  turned  by  the  mys- 
terious jargon  of  the  miserable  Hayraddin,  whom  that  day 
she  had  admitted  to  a  long  and  secret  conference,  and  she 
threw  out  so  many  strange  hints,  that — that — in  short,  I 
cared  not  to  press  on  her,  when  in  that  humor,  for  any  ex- 
planation.    Yet  it  was  cruel  to  leave  me  behind  her/' 

"  I  will  excuse  the  Lady  Hameline  from  intending  such 
unkindness,*'  said  Quentin  ;  •^'for  such  was  the  agitation  of 
the  moment,"  and  the  darkness  of  the  hour,  that  I  believe  the 
Lady  Hameline  as  certainly  conceived  herself  accompanied 
by  her  niece,  as  I  at  the  same  time,  deceived  by  Marthon's 
dress  and  demeanor,  supposed  I  was  in  the  company  of  both 
the  Ladies  of  Croye — and  of  her  especially,''  he  added,  with 
a  low  but  determined  voice,  "  without  whom  the  wealth  of 
worlds  would  not  have  tempted  me  to  leave  Schonwaldt/' 

Isabelle  stooped  her  head  forward,  and  seemed  scarce  to 
hear  the  emphasis  with  which  Quentin  had  spoken.  But 
she  turned  her  face  to  him  again  when  he  began  to  speak  of 
the  policy  of  Louis  ;  and  it  was  not  difficult  for  them,  by 
mutual  communication,  to  ascertain  that  the  Bohemian 
brothers,  with  their  accomplice  Marthon,  had  been  the  agents 
of  that  crafty  monarch,  although  Zamet,  the  elder  of  them, 
with  a  perfidy  peculiar  to  his  race,  had  attempted  to  play  a 
double  game,  and  had  been  punished  accordingly.  In  the 
same  humor  of  mutual  confidence,  and  forgetting  the  sin- 
gularity of  their  own  situation,  as  well  as  the  perils  of  the 
road,  the  travelers  pursued  their  journey  for  several  hours, 
only  stopping  to  refresh  their  horses  at  a  retired  darff,  or 
hamlet,  to  which  they  were  conducted  by  Hans  Glover,  who, 
in  all  other  respects,  as  well  as  in  leaving  them  much  to  their 
own  freedom  in  conversation,  conducted  himself  like  a  person 
of  refiection  and  discretion. 

Meantime,  the  artificial  distinction  which  divided  the  two 
lovers,  for  such  we  may  now  term  them,  seemed  dissolved, 
or  removed,  by  the  circumstances  in  which  they  were  placed  ; 
for  if  the  countess  boasted  the  higher  rank,  and  was  by 
birth  entitled  to  a  fortune  incalculably  larger  than  that  of 
the  youth,  whose  revenue  lay  in  his  sword,  it  was  to  be  con- 
sidered that,  for  the  present,  she  was  as  poor  as  he,  and  for 
her  safety,  honor,  and  life  exclusively  inde\)ted  to  his  pres- 
ence of  mind,  valor,  and  devotion.  They  spoke  not  indeed 
of  love,  for  though  the  young  lady,  her  heart  full  of  grati- 
tude and  confidence,  might  have  pardoned  such  a  d^eclara- 
tion,  yet  Quentin,  on  whose  tongue  there  was  laid  a  check, 
both  bj  natural  timidity  and  by  the  sentiments  of  chivalry. 


270  Wa  VERLEY  no  VELS 

would  have  held  it  an  unworthy  abuse  of  her  situation  had 
he  said  anything  which  could  have  the  appearance  of  taking 
undue  advantage  of  the  opportunities  which  it  afforded  them. 
They  spoke  not  then  of  love,  but  the  thoughts  of  it  were  on 
both  sides  unavoidable  ;  and  thus  they  were  placed  in  that 
relation  to  each  other  in  which  sentiments  of  mutual  regard 
are  rather  understood  than  announced,  and  which,  with  the 
freedoms  which  it  permits,  and  the  uncertainties  that  at- 
tend it,  often  forms  the  most  delightful  hours  of  human 
existence,  and  as  frequently  leads  to  those  which  are  dark- 
ened by  disappointment,  fickleness,  and  all  the  pains  of 
blighted  hope  and  unrequited  attachment. 

It  was  two  hours  after  noon,  when  the  travelers  were 
alarmed  by  the  report  of  the  guide,  who,  with  paleness  and 
horror  in  his  countenance,  said  that  they  were  pursued  by 
a  party  of  De  la  Marck^s  Sghwarxreiters.'^  These  soldiers, 
or  rather  banditti,  were  bands  levied  in  the  Lower  Circles 
of  Germany,  and  resembled  the  lanzknechts  in  every  par- 
ticular, except  that  the  former  acted  as  light  cavalry.  To 
maintain  the  name  of  Black  Troopers,  and  to  strike  ad- 
ditional terror  into  their  enemies,  they  usually  rode  on  black 
chargers,  and  smeared  with  black  ointment  their  arms  and 
accoutrements,  in  which  operation  their  hands  and  faces 
often  had  their  share.  In  morals  and  in  ferocity  these 
schwarzreiters  emulated  their  pedestrian  brethren  the 
lanzknechts. 

On  looking  back,  and  discovering  along  the  level  road 
which  they  had  traversed  a  cloud  of  dust  advancing,  with 
one  or  two  of  the  headmost  troopers  riding  furiously  in 
front  of  it,  Quentin  addressed  his  companion,  '^Dearest 
Isabelle,  I  have  no  weapon  left  save  my  sword  ;  but  since 
I  cannot  fight  for  you,  I  will  fly  with  you.  Could  we  gain 
yonder  wood  that  is  before  us  ere  they  come  up,  we  may 
easily  find  means  to  escape.^* 

"  So  be  it,  my  only  friend,'*  said  Isabelle,  pressing  her 
horse  to  the  gallop  ;  '*  and  thou,  good  fellow,"  she  added, 
addressing  Hans  Glover,  ''get  thee  off  to  another  road,  and 
do  not  stay  to  partake  our  misfortune  and  danger,** 

The  honest  Fleming  shook  his  head,  and  answered  her 
generous  exhortation  with  ^Nein,  nein  !  dasgelit  niM"  \  and 
continued  to  attend  them,  all  three  riding  towards  the 
shelter  of  the  wood  as  fast  as  their  jaded  horses  could  go, 
pursued,  at  the  same  time,  by  the  schwarzreiters,  who  in- 
*  See  Note  32. 
f  "  No,  no  I  that  must  not  be.  ** 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  271 

creased  their  pace  when  they  saw  them  fly.  But  notwith- 
standing the  fatigue  of  the  horses,  still  the  fugitives  being 
unarmed,  and  riding  lighter  in  consequence,  had  consider- 
ably the  advantage  of  their  pursuers,  and  were  within  about 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  wood,  when  a  body  ot  men-at- 
arms,  under  a  knight's  pennon,  was  discovered  advancing 
from  the  cover,  so  as  to  intercept  their  flight. 

*'  They  have  bright  armor,''  said  Isabelle  ;  ''  they  must 
be  Burgundians.  Be  they  who  will,  we  must  yield  to  them 
rather  than  to  the  lawless  miscreants  who  pursue  us." 

A  moment  after  she  exclaimed,  looking  on  the  pennon. 
"  I  know  the  cloven  heart  which  it  displays  !  It  is  the  ban- 
ner of  the  Count  of  Cr^veccsur,  a  noble  Burgundian  ;  to 
him  I  will  surrender  myself." 

Quentin  Durward  sighed  ;  but  what  other  alternative  re- 
mained ?  and  how  happy  would  he  have  been  but  an  in- 
stant before,  to  have  been  certain  of  the  escape  of  Isabelle, 
even  under  worse  terms  ?  They  soon  joined  the  band  of 
Cr^vecoeur,  and  the  countess  demanded  to  speak  to  the 
leader,  who  had  halted  his  party  till  he  should  reconnoiter 
the  black  troopers  ;  and  as  he  gazed  on  her  with  doubt  and 
uncertainty,  she  said,  "  Noble  count,  Isabelle  of  Croye, 
the  daughter  of  your  old  companion  in  arms.  Count  Rein- 
old  of  Croye,  renders  herself,  and  asks  protection  from  your 
valor  for  her  and  hers." 

''  Thou  shalt  have  it,  fair  kinswoman,  were  it  against  a 
host,  always  excepting  my  liege  Lord  of  Burgundy.  But 
there  is  a  little  time  to  talk  of  it.  These  filthy-looking 
fiends  have  made  a  halt,  as  if  they  intended  to  dispute  the 
matter.  By  St.  George  of  Burgundy,  they  have  the  inso- 
lence to  advance  against  the  banner  of  Crevecoeur  !  What ! 
will  not  the  knaves  be  ruled  ?  Damian,  my  lance.  Advance 
banner.  Lay  your  spears  in  the  rest.  Crdvecoeur  to  the 
rescue  ! " 

Crying  his  war-cry,  and  followed  by  his  men-at-arms,  he 
galloped  rapidly  forward  to  charge  the  schwarzreiters. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


THE  SURREN^DER 


Rescue  or  none,  sir  knight,  I  am  your  captive ; 
Deal  with  me  what  your  nobleness  suggests, 
Thinking  the  chance  of  war  may  one  day  place  you 
Where  I  must  now  be  reckoned — i'  the  roll 
Of  melancholy  prisoners. 

Anonymous, 

The  skirmish  betwixt  the  schwarzreiters  and  the  Bur- 
gundian  men-at-arms  lasted  scarcely  five  minutes,  so  soon| 
were  the  former  put  to  the  rout  by  the  superiority  of  the^ 
latter  in  armor,  weight  of  horse,  and  military  spirit.  In  less 
than  the  space  we  have  mentioned,  the  Count  of  Oreve- 
coeur,  wiping  his  bloody  sword  upon  his  horse^s  mane  ere  he 
sheathed  it,  came  back  to  the  verge  of  the  forest,  where j 
Isabelle  had  remained  a  spectator  of  the  combat.  One  part! 
of  his  people  followed  him,  while  the  other  continued  tol 
pursue  the  flying  enemy  for  a  little  space  along  the  cause-l 
way. 

'^  It  is  shame,^'  said  the  count,  ''  that  the  weapons  ol 
knights  and  gentlemen  should  be  soiled  by  the  blood  of  those 
brutal  swine.'' 

So  saying,  he  returned  his  weapon  to  the  sheath  and! 
added,  '*  This  is  a  rough  welcome  to  your  home,  my  prettyj 
cousin  ;  but  wandering  princesses  must  expect  such  adven- 
tures. And  well  I  came  up  in  time,  for,  let  me  assure  you,| 
the  black  troopers  respect  a  countess's  coronet  as  little  as  aj 
country  wench's  coif,  and  I  think  your  retinue  is  not  quali- 
fied for  much  resistance." 

*'  My  lord  count,"  said  the  Lady  Isabelle,  "  without! 
farther  preface,  let  me  know  if  I  am  a  prisoner,  and  where] 
you  are  to  conduct  me  ?  " 

"You  know,  you  silly  child,"  answered  the  count,  "howl 
I  would  answer  that  Question,   did  it  rest  on  my  own  will. 
But  you  and  your  foolish  match-making,  marriage-huntingl 
aunt  nave  made  such  wild  use  of  your  wings  of  late,  that  l| 
(ear  you  must  be  contented  to  fold  them  up  in  a  cage  for  »i 

^  m 


QUENTIN  nURWARD  278 

little  while.  For  my  part,  my  duty,  and  it  is  a  sad  one, 
will  be  ended  when  I  have  conducted  you  to  the  court  of 
the  Duke  at  Peronne  ;  for  which  purpose  I  hold  it  necessary 
to  deliver  the  command  of  this  reconnoitering  party  to  my 
nephew,  Count  Stephen,  while  I  return  with  you  thither,  as 
I  think  you  may  need  an  intercessor.  And  I  hope  the  young 
giddy-pate  will  discharge  his  duty  wisely/' 

**  So  please  you,  fair  uncle,  said  Count  Stephen,  "if 
you  doubt  my  capacity  to  conduct  the  men-at-arms,  even 
remain  with  them  yourself,  and  I  will  be  the  servant  and 
guard  of  the  Countess  Isabelle  of  Croye.'' 

*'No  doubt,  fair  nephew,'^  answered  his  uncle,  "this 
were  a  goodly  improvement  on  my  scheme  ;  but  methinks  I 
like  it  as  well  in  the  way  I  planned  it.  Please  you,  there- 
fore, to  take  notice,  that  your  business  here  is  not  to  hunt 
after  and  stick  these  black  hogs,  for  which  you  seemed  but 
now  to  have  felt  an  especial  vocation,  but  to  collect  and 
bring  to  me  true  tidings  what  is  going  forward  in  the 
country  of  Liege,  concerning  which  we  hear  such  wild 
rumors.  Let  some  half  score  of  lances  follow  me,  and  the 
rest  remain  with  my  banner  under  your  guidance." 

"Yet  one  moment,  cousin  of  Cr^vecoeur,"  said  the 
Countess  Isabelle,  "and  let  me,  in  yielding  myself  prisoner, 
stipulate  at  least  for  the  safety  of  those  who  have  befriended 
nie  in  my  misfortunes.  Permit  this  good  fellow,  my  trusty 
guide,  to  go  back  unharmed  to  his  native  town  of  Liege." 

"  My  nephew,"  said  Crevecoeur,  after  looking  sharply  at 
Glover's  honest  breadth  of  countenance,  "  shall  guard  this 
good  fellow,  who  seems,  indeed,  to  have  little  harm  in  him, 
as  far  into  the  territory  as  he  himself  advances,  and  then  leave 
him  at  liberty." 

"  Fail  not  to  remember  me  to  the  kind  Gertrude,"  said 
the  countess  to  her  guide  ;  and  added,  taking  a  string  of 
pearls  from  under  her  veil,  "  Pray  her  to  wear  this  in  re- 
membrance of  her  unhappy  friend." 

Honest  Glover  took  the  string  of  pearls,  and  kissed,  with 
clownish  gesture  but  with  sincere  kindness,  the  fair  hand 
which  had  found  such  a  delicate  mode  of  remunerating  his 
own  labors  and  peril. 

"Umph!  signs  and  tokens!"  said  the  count;  "any 
farther  bequests  to  make,  my  fair  cousin  ?  It  is  time  we 
were  on  our  way." 

"Only,*'   said  the  countess,  making  an  effort  to  speak, 
"that  you  will  be  pleased  to  be  favorable  to  this — this  young 
gentleman. " 
i8 


'114:  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

^'  Umph  !  ^'  said  Crevecoeur,  casting  the  same  penetrating 
glance  on  Quentin  which  he  had  bestowed  on  Glover,  but 
apparently  with  a  much  less  satisfactory  result,  and  mimick- 
ing, though  not  offensively,  the  embarrassment  of  the 
countess — "  umph  !  Ay,  this  is  a  blade  of  another  temper. 
And  pray,  my  cousin,  what  has  this — this  very  young  gentle- 
man done  to  deserve  such  intercession  at  your  hands  ?" 

^'  He  has  saved  my  life  and  honor,'"  said  the  countess,  red- 
dening with  shame  and  resentment. 

Quentin  also  blushed  with  indignation,  but  wisely  concluded 
that  to  give  vent  to  it  might  only  make  matters  worse. 

"  Life  and  honor  !  Umph  !  "  said  again  the  Count  Creve- 
coeur  ;  ^^  methinks  it  would  have  been  as  well,  my  cousin, 
if  you  had  not  put  yourself  in  the  way  of  lying  under 
such  obligations  to  this  very  young  gentleman.  But  let  it 
pass.  The  young  gentleman  may  wait  on  us,  if  his  quality 
permit,  and  I  will  see  he  has  no  injury  ;  only  I  will  myself 
take  in  future  the  office  of  protracting  your  life  and  honor, 
and  may  perhaps  find  for  him  some  fitter  duty  than  that  of 
being  a  squire  of  the  body  to  damosels  errant. '" 

*'  My  lord  count,"  said  Durward,  unable  to  keep  silence 
any  longer,  ''  lest  you  should  talk  of  a  stranger  in  slighter 
terms  than  you  might  afterwards  think  becoming,  I  take 
leave  to  tell  you  that  I  am  Quentin  Durward,  an  archer  of 
the  Scottish  Body-Guard,  in  which,  as  you  well  know,  none 
but  gentlemen  and  men  of  honor,  are  enrolled. "' 

* '  I  thank  you  for  your  information,  and  I  kiss  your  hands, 
seignoir  archer, "'  said  Crevecoeur,  in  the  same  tone  of  raillery. 
'^  Have  the  goodness  to  ride  with  me  to  the  front  of  the 
party." 

As  Quentin  moved  onward  at  the  command  of  the  count, 
who  had  now  the  power,  if  not  the  right,  to  dictate  his  mo- 
tions, he  observed  that  the  Lady  Isabelle  followed  his  motions 
with  a  look  of  anxious  and  timid  interest,  whicli  amounted 
almost  to  tenderness,  and  the  sight  of  which  brought  water 
into  his  eyes.  But  he  remembered  that  he  had  a  man's  part 
to  sustain  before  Crevecoeur,  who,  perhaps,  of  all  the  chiv- 
alry, in  France  or  Burgundy,  was  the  least  likely  to  be  moved 
to  anything  but  laughter  by  a  tale  of  true-love  sorrow.  He 
determined,  therefore,  not  to  wait  his  addressing  him,  but 
to  open  the  conversation  in  a  tone  which  should  assert  his 
claim  to  fair  treatment,  and  to  more  respect  than  the  count, 
offended  perhaps  at  finding  a  person  of  such  inferior  note 
placed  so  near  the  confidence  of  his  high-born  and  wealthy 
cousin,  seemed  disposed  to  entertain  for  him. 


QUENTIN  DURWABD  275 

"  My  Lord  Count  of  Cr^vecoeur/'  he  said  in  a  temperate 
but  firm  tone  of  voice,  "  may  I  request  of  you,  before  our 
interview  goes  farther,  to  tell  me  if  1  am  at  liberty,  or  am  I  to 
account  myself  your  prisoner  ?  " 

"  A  shrewd  question,^'  replied  the  count,  ''  which  at  pres- 
ent I  can  only  answer  by  another.  Are  France  and  Burgundy, 
think  you,  at  peace  or  war  with  each  other  ? '' 

*'  That,''  replied  the  Scot,  ''  you,  my  lord,  should  certainly 
know  better  than  I.  I  have  been  absent  from  the  court  of 
France  and  have  heard  no  news  for  some  time/' 

**  Look  you  there,"  said  the  count, ''  you  see  how  easy  it  is  to 
ask  questions,  but  how  difficult  to  answer  them.  Why,  I 
myself,  who  have  been  at  Peronne  with  the  Duke  for  this 
week  and  better,  cannot  resolve  this  riddle  any  more  than 
you  ;  and  yet,  sir  squire,  upon  the  solution  of  that  question 
depends  the  said  point  whether  you  are  prisoner  or  free  man  ; 
and,  for  the  present,  I  must  hold  you  as  the  former.  Only, 
if  you  have  really  and  honestly  been  of  service  to  my  kins- 
woman, and  if  you  are  candid  in  your  answers  to  the  ques- 
tions I  shall  ask,  affairs  shall  stand  the  better  with  you." 

'*^ The  Countess  of  Croye,"  said  Quentin,  ''is  best  judge 
if  I  have  rendered  any  service,  and  to  her  I  refer  you  on  that 
matter.  My  answers  you  will  yourself  judge  of  when  you 
ask  me  your  questions." 

''  Umph  !  haughty  enough,"  muttered  the  Count  of  Creve- 
coeur,  '*  and  very  like  one  that  wears  a  lady's  favor  in  his 
hat,  and  thinks  he  must  carry  things  with  a  high  tone,  to 
honor  the  precious  remnant  of  silk  and  tinsel.  Well,  sir,  I 
trust  it  will  be  no  abatement  of  your  dignity  if  you  answer 
me  how  long  yon  have  been  about  the  person  of  Lady  Isa- 
belleof  Croye?" 

''  Count  of  Crevecoeur,"  said  Quentin  Durward,  ''  if  I  an- 
swer questions  which  are  asked  in  a  tone  approaching  towards 
insult,  it  is  only  lest  injurious  inferences  should  be  drawn 
from  my  silence  respecting  one  to  whom  we  are  both  obliged 
to  render  justice.  I  have  acted  as  escort  to  the  Lady  Isabelle 
since  she  left  France  to  retire  into  Flanders." 

''  Ho  !  ho  ! "  said  the  count  ;  ''  and  that  is  to  say,  since 
she  fled  from  Plessis-le-Tours  ?  You,  an  archer  of  the 
Scottish  Guard,  accompanied  her,  of  course,  by  the  express 
orders  of  King  Louis  ?  " 

However  little  Quentin  thought  himself  indebted  to  the 
King  of  France,  who,  in  contriving  the  surprisal  of  the 
Countess  Isabelle  by  William  de  la  Marck,  had  probably 
calculated  on  the  young  Scotchman  being  slain  in  her  de* 


^«  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

fense,  he  did  not  yet  conceive  himself  at  liberty  to  betray 
any  trust  which  Louis  had  reposed,  or  had  seemed  to  repose, 
in  him,  and  therefore  replied  to  Count  Crevecoeur's  infer- 
ence, "That  it  was  sufficient  for  him  to  have  the  authority 
of  his  superior  officer  for  what  he  had  done,  and  he  inquired 
no  farther." 

*'It  is  quite  sufficient/'  said  the  count.  '*  We  know  the 
King  does  not  permit  his  officers  to  send  the  archers  of  his 
Guard  to  prance  like  paladins  by  the  bridle-rein  of  wander- 
ing ladies,  unless  he  hath  some  politic  purpose  to  serve.  It 
will  be  difficult  for  King  Louis  to  continue  to  aver  so  boldly 
that  he  knew  not  of  the  Ladies  of  Croye's  having  escaped 
from  France,  since  they  were  escorted  by  one  of  his  own 
life-guard.  And  whither,  sir  archer,  was  your  retreat  di- 
rected ?'\ 

"To  Liege,  my  lord,"  answered  the  Scot;  "where  the 
ladies  desired  to  be  placed  under  the  protection  of  the  late 
bishop." 

"  The  late  bishop  ! "  exclaimed  the  Count  of  Crevecoeur  •, 
"  is  LouiS  of  Bourbon  dead  ?  Not  a  word  of  his  illness  had 
reached  the  Duke.     Of  what  did  he  die  ?" 

"  He  sleeps  in  a  bloody  grave,  my  lord — that  is,  if  his 
murderers  have  conferred  one  on  his  remains." 

"  Murdered  !"  exclaimed  Crevecoeur  again.  "  Holy 
Mother  of  Heaven  !     Young  man,  it  is  impossible  !  " 

"  I  saw  the  deed  done  with  my  own  eyes,  and  many  an  act 
of  horror  besides." 

"  Saw  it,  and  made  not  in  to  help  the  good  prelate  ! "  ex- 
claimed the  count,  "  or  to  raise  the  castle  against  his  mur- 
derers ?  Know'st  thou  not,  that  even  to  look  on  such  a 
deed,  without  resisting  it,  is  profane  sacrilege  ?  " 

"To  be  brief,  my  lord,"  said  Durward,  "  ere  this  act  was 
done,  the  castle  was  stormed  by  the  bloodthirsty  William  de 
la  Marck,  with  help  of  the  insurgent  Liegois." 

"I  am  struck  with  thunder  !"  said  Crevecoeur.  "  Liege 
in  insurrection  !  Schonwaldt  taken  !  The  bishop  mur- 
dered !  Messenger  of  sorrow,  never  did  one  man  unfold 
such  a  packet  of  woes  !  Speak — knew  you  of  this  assault — 
of  this  insurrection — of  this  murder  ?  Speak — thou  art  one 
of  Louis's  trusted  archers,  and  it  is  he  that  has  aimed  this 

gainful  arrow.     Speak,  or  I  will  have  thee  torn  with  wild 
orses  !" 

"  And  if  I  am  so  torn,  my  lord,  there  can  be  nothing  rent] 
out  of  me  that  may  not  become  a  true  Scottish  gentleman. 
I  know  no  more  of  these  villainies  than  you — was  so  far  fromi 


Q UENTIN  D UR  WARD  277 

being  partaker  in  them,  that  I  would  have  withstood  them 
to  the  uttermost,  had  my  means,  in  a  twentieth  degree, 
equaled  my  inclination.  But  what  could  I  do  ?  they  were 
hundreds  and  I  but  one.  My  only  care  was  to  rescue  the 
Countess  Isabelle,  and  in  that  I  was  happily  successful.  Yet, 
had  I  been  near  enough  when  the  ruffian  deed  was  so  cruelly 
done  on  the  old  man,  I  had  saved  his  gray  hairs,  or  I  had 
avenged  them  ;  and  as  it  was,  my  abhorrence  was  spoken 
loud  enough  to  prevent  other  horrors." 

"  I  believe  thee,  youth,"  said  the  count ;  ''  thou  art  neither 
of  an  age  nor  nature  to  be  trusted  with  such  bloody  work, 
however  well  fitted  to  be  the  squire  of  dames.  But  alas  !  for 
the  kind  and  generous  prelate,  to  be  murdered  on  the  hearth 
where  he  so  often  entertained  the  stranger  with  Christian 
charity  and  princely  bounty  ;  and  that  by  a  wretch — a  mon- 
ster— a  portentous  growth  of  blood  and  cruelty — bred  up  in 
the  very  hall  where  he  has  imbrued  his  hands  in  his  bene- 
factor^s  blood  !  But  I  know  not  Charles  of  Burgundy — nay, 
I  should  doubt  of  the  justice  of  Heaven — if  vengeance  be  not 
as  sharp,  and  sudden,  and  severe  as  this  villainy  has  been 
unexampled  in  atrocity.  And,  if  no  other  shall  pursue  the 
murderer" — here  he  paused,  grasped  his  sword,  then  quitting 
his  bridle,  struck  both  gauntleted  hands  ypon  his  breast, 
until  his  corslet  clattered,  and  finally  held  them  up  to 
Heaven,  as  he  solemnly  continued — ''  1 — I,  Philip  Crevecoeur 
of  Cordes,  make  a  vow  to  God,  St.  Larnbert,  and  the  Three 
Kings  of  Cologne,  that  small  shall  be  my  thought  of  other 
earthly  concerns  till  I  take  full  revenge  on  the  murderers  of 
the  good  Louis  of  Bourbon,  whether  I  find  them  in  forest  or 
field,  in  city  or  in  country,  in  hill  or  plain,  in  king's  court 
or  in  God's  church  ;  and  thereto  I  pledge  lands  and  living, 
friends  and  followers,  life  and  honor.  So  help  me  God  and 
St.  Lambeit  of  Liege,  and  the  Three  Kings  of  Cologne  ! " 

When  the  Count  of  Crevecoeur  had  made  his  vow,  his 
mind  seemed  in  some  sort  relieved  from  the  overwhelming 
grief  and  astonishment  with  which  he  had  heard  the  fatal 
tragedy  that  had  been  acted  at  Schonwaldt,  and  he  proceeded 
to  question  Durward  more  minutely  concerning  the  particu- 
lars of  that  disastrous  affair,  which  the  Scot,  nowise  desirous 
to  abate  the  spirit  of  revenge  which  the  count  entertained 
against  William  de  la  Marck,  gave  him  at  full  length. 

'^  But  those  blind,  unsteady,  faithless,  fickle  beasts,  the 
Liegeois,"  said  the  count,  *'  that  they  should  have  combined 
themselves  with  this  inexorable  robber  and  murderer  to  put 
to  death  their  lawful  prince  ! " 


m  WA  VERLEY  NOVEL 3 

Durward  here  informed  the  enraged  Burgundian  that  the 
Liegeois,  or  at  least  the  better  class  of  them,  however  rashly 
they  had  run  into  the  rebellion  against  their  bishop,  had  no 
design,  so  far  as  appeared  to  him,  to  aid  in  the  execrable 
deed  of  De  la  Marck  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  would  have  pre- 
vented it  if  they  had  had  the  means,  and  were  struck  with 
horror  when  they  beheld  it. 

''  Speak  not  of  the  faithless,  inconstant,  plebeian  rabble  !  '* 
said  Orevecoeur.  ''  When  they  took  arms  against  a  prince 
who  had  no  fault  save  that  he  was  too  kind  and  too  good  a 
master  for  such  a  set  of  ungrateful  slaves — when  they  armed 
against  him,  and  broke  into  his  peaceful  house,  what  could 
there  be  in  their  intention  but  murder  ?  When  they  banded 
themselves  with  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes,  the  greatest 
homicide  in  the  marches  of  Flanders,  what  else  could  there 
be  in  their  purpose  but  murder,  which  is  the  very  trade  he 
lives  by  ?  And  again,  was  it  not  one  of  their  own  vile  rabble 
who  did  the  very  deed,  by  thine  own  account  ?  I  hope  to 
see  their  canals  running  blood  by  the  light  of  their  burning 
houses.  Oh,  the  kind,  noble,  generous  lord  whom  they  have 
slaughtered  !  Other  vassals  have  rebelled  under  the  pressure 
of  imposts  and  penury  ;  but  the  men  of  Liege  in  the  fulness 
of  insolence  and  plenty."  He  again  abandoned  the  reins  of 
his  war-horse  and  wrung  bitterly  the  hands  which  his  mail- 
gloves  rendered  untractable.  Quentin  easily  saw  that  the 
grief  which  he  manifested  was  augmented  by  the  bitter  re- 
collection of  past  intercourse  and  friendship  with  the  sufferer, 
and  was  silent  accordingly,  respecting  feelings  which  he  was 
unwilling  to  aggravate,  and  at  the  same  time  felt  it  impos- 
sible to  soothe. 

But  the  Count  of  Orevecoeur  returned  again  and  again  to 
the  subject — questioned  him  on  every  particular  of  the  sur- 
prise of  Schonwaldt,  and  the  death  of  the  bishop  ;  and  then 
suddenly,  as  if  he  had  recollected  something  which  had 
escaped  his  memory,  demanded  what  had  become  of  the 
Lady  Hameline,  and  why  she  was  not  with  her  kinswoman. 
''Not,"  he  added  contemptuously,  '*  that  I  consider  her  ab- 
sence as  at  all  a  loss  to  the  Countess  Isabelle  ;  for,  although 
she  was  her  kinswoman,  and  upon  the  whole  a  well-meaning 
woman,  yet  the  court  of  Cocagne  never  produced  such  a 
fantastic  fool ;  and  I  hold  it  for  certain  that  her  niece,  whom 
I  have  always  observed  to  be  a  modest  and  orderly  young 
woman,  was  led  into  the  absurd  frolic  of  flying  from  Bur- 
gundy to  France  by  that  blundering,  romantic,  old  match- 
making and  match-seeking  idiot." 


QUENTIN  DURWAUD  27« 

"What  a  speech  for  a  romantic  lover  to  hear  !  and  to  hear, 
too,  when  it  would  have  been  ridiculous  in  him  to  attempt 
what  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  achieve — namely,  to  con- 
vince the  count,  by  force  of  arms,  that  he  did  foul  wrong  to 
the  countess — the  peerless  in  sense  as  in  beauty — in  terming 
her  a  modest  and  orderly  young  woman,  qualities  which  might 
have  been  predicated  with  propriety  of  the  daughter  of  a 
sunburnt  peasant,  who  lived  by  goading  the  oxen,  while  her 
father  held  the  plow.  And,  then,  to  suppose  her  under 
the  domination  and  supreme  guidance  of  a  silly  and  roman- 
tic aunt — the  slander  should  have  been  repelled  down  the 
slanderer^s  throat.  But  the  open,  though  severe,  physiog- 
nomy of  the  Count  of  Crevecoeur,  the  total  contempt  which 
he  seemed  to  entertain  for  those  feelings  which  were  upper- 
most in  Quentin^s  bosom,  overawed  him  ;  not  for  fear  of  the 
count's  fame  in  arms — that  was  a  risk  Avhich  would  have  in- 
creased his  desire  of  making  out  a  challenge — but  in  dread 
of  ridicule,  the  weapon  of  all  others  most  feared  by  enthu- 
siasts of  every  description,  and  which,  from  its  predominance 
over  such  minds,  often  checks  what  is  absurd,  and  fully  as 
often  smothers  that  v.hich  is  noble. 

Under  the  influence  of  this  fear  of  becoming  an  object  of 
scorn  rather  than  resentment,  Durward,  though  with  some 
pain,  confined  his  reply  to  a  confused  account  of  the  Lady 
Hameline  having  made  her  escape  from  Schonwaldt  before 
the  attack  took  place.  He  could  not,  indeed,  have  made 
his  story  very  distinct  without  throwing  ridicule  on  the  near 
relation  of  Isabelle,  and  perhaps  incurring  some  himself,  as 
having  been  the  object  of  her  preposterous  expectations.  He 
added  to  his  embarrassed  detail,  that  he  had  heard  a  report, 
though  a  vague  one,  of  the  Lady  Hameline  having  again 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  William  de  la  Marck. 

"I  trust  in  St.  Lambert  that  he  will  marry  her,"  said 
Crevecoeur ;  '*  as,  indeed,  he  is  likely  enough  to  do,  for  the 
sake  of  her  money-bags  ;  and  equally  likely  to  knock  her  on 
the  head  so  soon  as  these  are  either  secured  in  his  own  grasp 
or,  at  farthest,  emptied." 

The  count  then  proceeded  to  ask  so  many  questions  con- 
cerning the  mode  in  which  both  ladies  had  conducted  them- 
selves on  the  journey,  the  degree  of  intimacy  to  which  they 
admitted  Quentin  himself,  and  other  trying  particulars,  that, 
vexed  and  ashamed  and  angry,  the  youth  was  scarce  able  to 
conceal  his  embarrassment  from  the  keen-sighted  soldier  and 
courtier,- who  seemed  suddenly  disposed  to  take  leave  of  him. 
Baying,  at  the  same  time,  "  Umph — I  see  it  is  as  I  conjee- 


280  WA VERLEY  NOVELS 

tured,  on  one  side  at  least ;  I  trust  the  other  party  has  kept 
her  senses  better.  Come,  sir  squire,  spur  on  and  keep  the 
van,  while  I  fall  back  to  discourse  with  the  Lady  Isabelle. 
I  think  I  have  learned  now  so  much  from  you  that  I  can 
talk  to  her  of  these  sad  passages  without  hurting  her  nicety, 
though  I  have  fretted  yours  a  little.  Yet  stay,  young  gallant 
— one  word  ere  you  go.  You  have  had,  I  imagine,  a  happy 
journey  through  Fairyland — all  full  of  heroic  adventure,  and 
high  hope,  and  wild,  minstrel-like  delusion,  like  the  gardens 
of  Morgaine  la  Fee,  Forget  it  all,  young  soldier,"  he  added, 
tapping  him  on  the  shoulder.  *  ^  Remember  yonder  lady  only 
as  the  honored  Countess  of  Croye  ;  forget  her  as  a  wander- 
ing and  adventurous  damsel.  And  her  friends — one  of  them 
I  can  answer  for — will  remember,  on  their  part,  only  the 
services  you  have  done  her,  and  forget  the  unreasonable 
reward  which  you  have  had  the  boldness  to  propose  to 
yourself." 

Enraged  that  he  had  been  unable  to  conceal  from  the 
sharpsighted  Crevecoeur,  feelings  which  the  count  seemed  to 
consider  as  the  object  of  ridicule,  Quentin  replied  indignantly, 
'^  My  lord  count,  when  I  require  advice  of  you,  I  will  ask  it ; 
when  I  demand  assistance  of  you,  it  will  be  time  enough  to 
grant  or  refuse  it  ;  when  I  set  peculiar  value  on  your  opinion 
of  me,  it  will  not  be  too  late  to  express  it." 

"Heyday!"  said  the  count;  "I  have  come  between 
Amadis  and  Oriana,  and  must  expect  a  challenge  to  the 
lists ! " 

*'  You  speak  as  if  that  were  an  impossibility,"  said  Quentin. 
"  When  I  broke  a  lance  with  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  it  was 
against  a  breast  in  which  flowed  better  blood  than  that  of 
Crevecoeur.  When  I  measured  swords  with  Dunois,  I 
engaged  a  better  warrior." 

"  Sow  Heaven  nourish  thy  judgment,  gentle  youth  !"said 
Crevecoeur,  still  laughing  at  the  chivalrous  inamorato.  "  If 
thou  speak'st  truth,  thou  hast  had  singular  luck  in  this 
world  ;  and,  truly,  if  it  be  the  pleasure  of  Providence  ex- 
poses thee  to  such  trials,  without  a  beard  on  thy  lip,  thou 
wilt  be  mad  with  vanity  ere  thou  writest  thyself  man.  Thou 
canst  not  move  me  to  anger,  though  thou  mayst  to  mirth. 
Believe  me,  though  thou  mayst  have  fought  with  princes, 
and  played  the  champion  for  countesses,  by  some  of  those 
freaks  which  Fortune  will  sometimes  exhibit,  thou  art  by  no 
means  the  equal  of  those  of  whom  thou  hast  been  either  the 
casual  opponent  or  more  casual  companion.  I  can  allow 
thee,  like  a  youth  who  hath   listened  to  romances  till  he 


Q UENTIN  D UR  WARD  281 

fancied  himself  a  paladin,  to  form  pretty  dreams  for  some 
time  ;  but  thou  must  not  be  angry  at  a  well-meaning  friend, 
though  he  shake  thee  something  roughly  by  the  shoulders 
to  awake  thee/' 

"  My  Lord  of  Crdvecoeur,"  said  Quentin,  "  my  family " 

''Nay,  it  was  not  utterly  of  family  that  I  spoke,"  said  the 
count  ;  "but  of  rank,  fortune,  high  station,  and  so  forth, 
which  place  a  distance  between  various  degrees  and  classes 
of  persons.  As  for  birth,  all  men  are  descended  from  Adam 
and  Eve/' 

"  My  lord  count,'*  repeated  Quentin,  "  my  ancestors,  the 
Durwards  of  Glen  Houlakin " 

"  Nay,"  said  the  count,  "  if  you  claim  a  farther  descent 
for  them  than  from  Adam,  1  have  done  !  Good-even  to 
you." 

He  reined  back  his  horse,  and  paused  to  join  the  countess, 
to  whom,  if  possible,  his  insinuations  and  advices,  however 
well  meant,  were  still  more  disagreeable  than  to  Quentin, 
who,  as  he  rode  on,  muttered  to  himself,  "  Cold-blooded, 
insolent,  overweening  coxcomb  !  Would  that  the  next  Scot- 
tish archer  who  has  his  harquebuss  pointed  at  thee  may  not 
let  thee  off  so  easily  as  I  did  ! " 

In  the  evenng  they  reached  the  town  of  Charleroi,  on  the 
Sambre,  where  the  Count  of  Crevecoeur  had  determined  to 
leave  the  Countess  Isabelle,  whom  the  terror  and  fatigue  of 
yesterday,  joined  to  a  jlight  of  fifty  miles  since  morning  and 
the  various  distressing  sensations  by  which  it  was  accom- 
panied, had  made  incapable  of  traveling  farther,  with  safety 
to  her  health.  The  count  consigned  her,  in  a  state  of  great 
exhaustion,  to  the  care  of  the  abbess  of  the  Cistercian  con- 
vent in  Charleroi,  a  noble  lady  to  whom  both  the  families 
of  Crevecoeur  and  Croye  were  related,  and  in  whose  prudence 
and  kindness  he  could  repose  confidence. 

Crevecoeur  himself  only  stopped  to  recommend  the  utmost 
caution  to  the  governor  of  a  small  Burgundian  garrison  who 
occupied  the  place,  and  required  him  also  to  mount  a  guard 
of  honor  upon  the  convent  during  the  residence  of  the  Coun- 
tess Isabelle  of  Croye — ostensibly  to  secure  her  safety,  but 
perhaps  secretly  to  prevent  her  attempting  to  escape.  The 
count  only  assigned  as  a  cause  for  the  garrison  being  vigilant 
some  vague  rumors  which  he  had  heard  of  disturbances  in 
the  bishopric  of  Liege.  But  he  was  determined  himself  to 
be  the  first  who  should  carry  the  formidable  news  of  the  in- 
surrection and  the  murder  of  the  bishop,  in  all  their  horrible 
reality^   to  Duke   Charles ;  and  for  that  purpose,   having 


282  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

procured  fresh  horses  for  himself  and  suite,  he  monnted 
with  the  resolution  of  continuing  his  journey  to  Peronne 
without  stopping  for  repose  ;  and  informing  Quentin 
Durward  that  he  must  attend  him,,  he  made,  at  the  same 
time,  a  mock  apology  for  parting  fair  company,  but  hoped 
that  to  so  devoted  a  squire  of  dames  a  night's  journey  by 
moonshine  would  be  more  agreeable  than  supinely  to  yield 
himself  to  slumber  like  an  ordinary  mortal. 

Quentin,  already  sufficiently  afflicted  by  finding  that  he 
was  to  be  parted  from  Isabelle,  longed  to  answer  this  taunt 
with  an  indignant  defiance  ;  but  aware  that  the  count  would 
only  laugh  at  his  anger  and  despise  his  challenge,  he  resolved 
to  wait  some  future  time,  when  he  might  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  obtaining  some  amends  from  this  proud  lord,  who, 
though  for  very  different  reasons,  had  become  nearly  as 
odious  to  him  as  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes  himself.  He 
therefore  assented  to  Cr^vecoeur's  proposal,  as  to  what  he 
had  no  choice  of  declining,  and  they  pursued  in  company, 
and  with  all  the  despatch  they  could  exert,  the  road  between 
Charleroi  and  Peronne. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE   UNBIDDEiq^   GUEST. 

No  human  quality  is  so  well  wove 
In  warp  and  woof  but  there's  some  flaw  in  it. 
I've  known  a  brave  man  fly  a  shepherd's  cur, 
A  wise  man  so  demean  him,  driveling  idiocy 
Had  wellnigh  been  ashamed  on't.     For  your  crafty. 
Your  worldly-wise  man;  he,  above  the  rest, 
Weaves  his  own  snares  so  fine,  he's  often  caught  in  them.    ^ 

Old  Play. 

QuEN"TiN",  during  the  earlier  part  of  the  night- journey,  had 
to  combat  with  that  bitter  heartache  which  is  left  when 
youth  parts,  and  probably  forever,  with  her  he  loves.  As, 
pressed  by  the  urgency  of  the  moment  and  the  impatience  of 
Cr^vecoeur,  they  hasted  on  through  the  rich  lowlands  of 
Hainault,  under  the  benign  guidance  of  a  rich  and  lustrous 
harvest-moon,  she  shed  her  yellow  influence  over  rich  and 
deep  pastures,  woodland,  and  corn-fields,  from  which  the 
husbandmen  were  using  her  light  to  withdraw  the  grain, 
such  was  the  industry  of  the  Flemings  even  at  that  period  ; 
she  shone  on  broad,  level,  and  fructifying  rivers,  where 
glided  the  white  sail  in  the  service  of  commerce,  uninter- 
rupted by  rock  or  torrent,  beside  lively  [lonely  ?]  quiet  vil- 
lages, whose  external  decency  and  cleanliness  expressed  the 
ease  and  comfort  of  the  inhabitants  ;  she  gleamed  upon 
the  feudal  castle  of  many  a  gallant  baron  and  knight,  with 
its  deep  moat,  battlemented  court,  and  high  belfry,  for  the 
chivalry  of  Hainault  was  renowned  among  the  nobles  of 
Europe ;  and  her  light  displayed  at  a  distance,  in  its  broad 
beam,  the  gigantic  towers  of  more  than  one  lofty  minster. 

Yet  all  this  fair  variety,  however  differing  from  the  waste 
and  wilderness  of  his  own  land,  interrupted  not  the  course 
^f  Quentin's  regrets  and  sorrows.  He  had  left  his  heart  be- 
lind  him,  when  he  departed  from  Oharleroi ;  and  the  only 
reflection  which  the  farther  journey  inspired  was,  that  every 
jtep  was  carrying  him  farther  from  Isabelle.  His  imagina- 
tion was  taxed  to  recall  every  word  she  had  spoken,  every 
look  she  had  directed  towards  him  ;  and,  as  happens  fre- 


284  WAVEitLET  NOVELS 

quently  iu  such  cases,  the  impression  made  upon  his  im- 
agination by  the  recollection  of  these  particulars  was  even 
stronger  than  the  realities  themselves  had  excited. 

At  length,  after  the  cold  hour  of  midnight  was  past,  in  spite 
alike  of  love  and  of  sorrow,  the  extreme  fatigue  which  Quen- 
tin  had  undergone  the  two  preceding  days  began  to  have  an 
effect  on  him,  which  his  habits  of  exercise  of  every  kind,  and 
his  singular  alertness  and  activity  of  character,  as  well  as  the 
painful  nature  of  the  reflections  which  occupied  his  thoughts, 
had  hitherto  prevented  his  experiencing.  The  ideas  of  his 
mind  began  to  be  so  little  corrected  by  the  exertions  of  his 
senses,  worn  out  and  deadened  as  the  latter  now  were  by  ex- 
tremity of  fatigue,  that  the  visions  which  the  former  drew 
superseded  or  perverted  the  information  conveyed  by  the 
blunted  organs  of  seeing  and  hearing  ;  and  Durward  was  only 
sensible  that  he  was  awake  by  the  exertions  which,  sensible 
of  the  peril  of  his  situation,  he  occasionally  made  to  resist 
falling  into  a  deep  and  dead  sleep.  Every  now  and  then  a 
strong  consciousness  of  the  risk  of  falling  from  or  with  his 
horse  roused  him  to  exertion  and  animation  ;  but  ere  long 
his  eyes  again  were  dimmed  by  confused  shades  of  all  sorts  of 
mingled  colors,  the  moonlight  landscape  swam  before  them, 
and  he  was  so  much  overcome  with  fatigue  that  the  Count 
of  Cr^vecoeur,  observing  his  condition,  was  at  length  com- 
pelled to  order  two  of  his  attendants,  one  to  each  rein  of 
Dur ward's  bridle,  in  order  to  prevent  the  risk  of  his  falling 
from  his  horse. 

When  at  length  they  reached  the  town  of  Landrecy,  the 
count,  in  compassion  to  the  youth,  who  had  now  been  in  a 
great  measure  without  sleep  for  three  nights,  allowed,  himself 
and  his  retinue  a  halt  of  four  hours  for  rest  and  refreshment. 

Deep  and  sound  were  Quentin's  slumbers,  until  they  were 
broken  by  the  sound  of  the  count's  trumpet,  and  the  cry  of 
his /oz^rner5  and  harbingers,  ^'Deboutl  dehout!  Ha!  Mes- 
sires  en  route — en  route!"  Yet,  unwelcomely  early  as  the 
tones  came,  they  awaked  him  a  different  being  in  strength 
and  spirits  from  what  he  had  fallen  asleep.  Confidence  in 
himself  and  his  fortunes  returned  with  his  reviving  spirits 
and  with  the  rising  sun.  He  thought  of  his  love  no  longer  as 
a  desperate  and  fantastic  dream,  but  as  a  high  and  invigo- 
rating principle,  to  be  cherished  in  his  bosom,  although  he 
might  never  propose  to  himself,  under  all  the  difficulties  by 
which  he  was  beset,  to  bring  it  to  any  prosperous  issue. 
*'  The  pilot,''  he  reflected,  "  steers  his  bark  by  the  polar  star, 
although  he  never  expects  to  become  possessor  of  it ;  and  the 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  285 

thoughts  of  Isabelle  of  Croye  shall  make  me  a  worthy  man- 
at-arms,  though  I  may  never  see  her  more.  When  she  hears 
that  a  Scottish  soldier  named  Quentin  Durward  distinguished 
nimself  in  a  well-fought  field,  or  left  his  body  on  the  breach 
of  a  disputed  fortress,  she  will  remember  the  companion  of 
her  journey,  as  one  who  did  all  in  his  power  to  avert  the 
snares  and  misfortunes  which  beset  it,  and  perhaps  will  honor 
his  memory  with  a  tear,  his  coffin  with  a  garland." 

In  this  manly  mood  of  bearing  his  misfortune,  Quentin 
felt  himself  more  able  to  receive  and  reply  to  the  jests  of  the 
Count  of  Crevecceur,  who  passed  several  on  his  alleged  effem- 
inacy and  incapacity  of  undergoing  fatigue.  The  young 
Scot  accommodated  himself  so  good-humoredly  to  the  count^s 
raillery,  and  replied  at  once  so  happily  and  so  respectfully, 
that  the  change  of  his  tone  and  manner  made  obviously  a 
more  favorable  impression  on  the  count  than  he  had  enter- 
tained from  his  prisoners  conduct  during  the  preceding  even- 
ning,  when,  rendered  irritable  by  the  feelings  of  his  situa- 
tion, he  was  alternately  moodily  silent  or  fiercely  argumen- 
tative. 

The  veteran  soldier  began  at  length  to  take  notice  of  his 
young  companion  as  a  pretty  fellow  of  whom  something  might 
be  made  ;  and  more  than  hinted  to  him  that,  would  he  but 
resign  his  situation  in  the  Archer  Guard  of  France,  he  would 
undertake  to  have  him  enrolled  in  the  household  of  the  Duke 
of  Burgundy  in  an  honorable  condition,  and  would  himself 
take  care  of  his  advancement.  And  although  Quentin,  with 
suitable  expressions  of  gratitude,  declined  this  favor  at  pres- 
ent until  he  should  find  out  how  far  he  had  to  complain  of 
his  original  patron.  King  Louis,  he,  nevertheless,  continued 
to  remain  on  good  terms  with  the  Count  of  Crevecceur  ;  and, 
while  his  enthusiastic  mode  of  thinking,  and  his  foreign  and 
idiomatical  manner  of  expressing  himself,  often  excited  a 
smile  on  the  grave  cheek  of  the  count,  that  smile  had  lost  all 
that  it  had  of  sarcastic  and  bitter,  and  did  not  exceed  the 
limits  of  good  humor  and  good  manners. 

Thus  traveling  on  with  much  more  harmony  than  on  the 
preceding  day,  the  little  party  came  at  last  within  two  miles 
of  the  famous  and  strong  town  of  Peronne,  near  which  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy's  army  lay  encamped,  ready,  as  was  sup- 
posed, to  invade  France  ;  and  in  opposition  to  which  Louis 
XL  had  himself  assembled  a  strong  force  near  St.  Maxence, 
for  the  purpose  of  bringing  to  reason  his  over-powerful  vassal. 

Peronne,*  situated  upon  a  deep  river,  in  a  flat  country, 

♦See  Note  33. 


286  WA VERLEY  NOVELS 

and  surrounded  by  strong  bulwarks  and  profound  moats, 
was  accounted  in  ancient  as  in  modern  times  one  of  the 
strongest  fortresses  in  France.  The  Count  of  Crevecoeur, 
his  retinue,  and  his  prisoner  were  approaching  the  fortress 
about  the  third  hour  after  noon  ;  when,  riding  through  the 
pleasant  glades  of  a  large  forest,  which  then  covered  the  ap- 
proach to  the  town  on  the  east  side,  they  were  met  by  two 
men  of  rank,  as  appeared  from  the  number  of  their  attend- 
ants, dressed  in  the  habits  worn  in  time  of  peace  ;  and  who, 
to  judge  from  the  falcons  which  they  carried  on  their  wrists, 
and  the  number  of  spaniels  and  greyhounds  led  by  their 
followers,  were  engaged  in  the  amusement  of  hawking.  But 
on  perceiving  Ordvecceur,  with  whose  appearance  and  liv- 
eries they  were  sufficiently  intimate,  they  quitted  the  search 
which  they  were  making  for  a  heron  along  the  banks  of  a 
long  canal,  and  came  galloping  towards  him. 

*^  News — news,  Count  of  Crevecoeur  !  "  they  cried  both 
together;  '''will  you  give  news  or  take  news,  or  will  you 
barter  fairly  ?  " 

''  I  would  barter  fairly,  Messires,"  said  Crevecoeur,  after 
saluting  them  courteously,  ''  did  I  conceive  you  had  any 
news  of  importance  sufficient  to  make  an  equivalent  for 
mine." 

The  two  sportsmen  smiled  on  each  other  ;  and  the  elder 
of  the  two,  a  fine  baronial  figure,  with  a  dark  countenance, 
marked  with  that  sort  of  sadness  which  some  physiogno- 
mists ascribe  to  a  melancholy  temperament,  and  some,  as  the 
Italian  statuary  augured  of  the  visage  of  Charles  I.,  consider 
as  predicting  an  unhappy  death,*  turning  to  his  compan- 
ion, said,  ''Crevecoeur  has  been  in  Brabant,  the  country  of 
commerce,  and  he  has  learned  all  its  artifices  :  he  will  be 
too  hard  for  us  if  we  drive  a  bargain." 

"  Messires,"  said  Crevecoeur,  the  Duke  ought  in  justice 
to  have  the  first  of  my  wares,  as  the  seigneur  takes  his  toll 
before  open  market  begins.  But  tell  me,  are  your  news  of 
a  sad  or  a  pleasant  complexion  ?  " 

The  person  whom  he  particularly  addressed  was  a  lively- 
looking  man,  with  an  eye  of  great  vivacity,  which  was  cor- 
rected by  an  expression  of  reflection  and  gravity  about  the 
mouth  and  upper  lip — the  whole  physiognomy  marking  a 
man  who  saw  and  judged  rapidly,  but  was  sage  and  slow  in 
forming  resolutions  or  in  expressing  opinions.  This  was  the 
famous  Knight  of  Hainault,  son  of  Collart,  or  Nicolas  de  la 
cute,  known  in  history  and  amongst  historians  by  the  ven- 

*  See  D'Hymbercourt.    Note  34. 


Q UEN TIN  D UR  WARD  28"J 

erable  name  of  Philip  des  Comines,*  at  this  time  close  to  the 
person  of  Duke  Charles  the  Bold,  and  one  of  his  most  es- 
teemed counselors.  He  answered  Crevecoeur's  question  con- 
cerning the  complexion  of  the  news  of  which  he  and  his 
companion,  the  Baron  d'Hymbercourt,  were  t?ie  deposit- 
aries. "  They  were,"  he  said,  '^  like  the  colors  of  the  rain- 
bow, various  in  hue,  as  they  might  be  viewed  from  diiferent 
points,  and  placed  against  the  black  cloud  or  the  fair  sky. 
Such  a  rainbow  was  never  seen  in  France  or  Flanders  since 
that  of  Noah's  ark.'' 

''My  tidings,"  replied  Cr^vecoeur,  ''are  altogether  like 
the  comet — gloomy,  wild,  and  terrible  in  themselves,  yet  to 
be  accounted  the  forerunners  of  still  greater  and  more  dread- 
ful evils  which  are  to  ensue." 

"  We  must  open  our  bales,"  said  Comines  to  his  compan* 
ion,  "  or  our  market  will  be  forestalled  by  some  newcomers, 
for  ours  are  public  news.  In  one  word,  Cr^vecoeur,  listen, 
and  wonder — King  Louis  is  at  Peronne  ! " 

"  What  ! "  said  the  count,  in  astonishment ;  "  has  the 
Duke  retreated  without  a  battle  ?  and  do  you  remain  here 
in  your  dress  of  peace  after  the  town  is  besieged  by  the 
French,  for  I  cannot  suppose  it  taken  ?  " 

"  No,  surely,"  said  D'Hymbercourt,  *'  the  banners  of  Bur- 
gundy have  not  gone  back  a  foot ;  and  still  King  Louis  is 
here." 

"  Then  Edward  of  England  must  have  come  over  the  seas 
with  his  bowmen,"  said  Crdvecoeur,  "and,  like  his  ances- 
tors, gained  a  second  field  of  Poictiers." 

"Not  so,"  said  Comines.  "Not  a  French  banner  has 
been  borne  down,  not  a  sail  spread  from  England,  where 
Edward  is  too  much  amused  among  the  wives  of  the  citizens 
of  London  to  think  of  playing  the  Black  Prince.  Hear  the 
extraordinary  truth.  You  know,  when  you  left  us,  that  the 
conference  between  the  commissioners  on  the  parts  of 
France  and  Burgundy  was  broken  up,  without  apparent 
chance  of  reconciliation  ?  " 

"  True  ;  and  we  dreamed  of  nothing  but  war." 

"  What  has  followed  has  been  indeed  so  like  a  dream," 
said  Comines,  "  that  I  almost  expect  to  awake  and  find  it  so. 
Only  one  day  since,  the  Duke  had  in  council  protested  so 
furiously  against  farther  delay,  that  it  was  resolved  to  send 
a  defiance  to  the  King  and  march  forward  instantly  into 
France.  Toison  d'Or,  commissioned  for  the  purpose,  had 
put  on  his  official  dress,  and  had  his  foot  in  the  stirrup  to 

*S«eNoteS6. 


288  WA  VERLEY  NO  VELS 

mount  his  horse,  when  lo !  the  French  herald  Montjoie  rode 
into  our  camp.  We  thought  of  nothing  else  than  that 
Louis  had  been  beforehand  with  our  defiance ;  and  began  to 
consider  how  much  the  Duke  would  resent  the  advice  which 
had  prevented  him  from  being  the  first  to  declare  war.  But 
a  council  being  speedily  assembled,  what  was  our  wonder 
when  the  herald  informed  us  that  Louis,  King  of  France, 
was  scarce  an  hour's  riding  behind,  intending  to  visit  Charles 
Duke  of  Burgundy  with  a  small  retinue,  in  order  that  their 
differences  might  be  settled  at  a  personal  interview  I  ^' 

*' You  surprise  me,  Messires,^^  said  Crevecoeur;  "and  yet 
you  surprise  me  less  than  you  might  have  expected;  for, 
when  I  was  last  at  Plessis-les-Tours,  the  all-trusted  Cardinal 
Balue,  offended  with  his  master,  and  Burgundian  at  heart, 
did  hint  to  me  that  he  could  so  work  upon  Louis's  peculiar 
foibles  as  to  lead  him  to  place  himself  in  such  a  position  with 
regard  to  Burgundy  that  the  Duke  might  have  the  terms  of 
peace  of  his  own  making.  But  I  never  suspected  that  so  old 
a  fox  as  Louis  could  have  been  induced  to  come  into  the  trap 
of  his  own  accord.     What  said  the  Burgundian  counselors  ?  '^ 

**  As  you  may  guess,"  answered  D'Hymbercourt;  "  talked 
much  of  faith  to  be  observed  and  little  of  advantage  to  be 
obtained  by  such  a  visit;  while  it  was  manifest  they  thought 
almost  entirely  of  the  last,  and  were  only  anxious  to  find  some 
way  to  reconcile  it  with  the  necessary  preservation  of  appear- 
ances. " 

"And  what  said  the  Duke?"  continued  the  Count  of 
Crevecoeur. 

"Spoke  brief  and  bold,  as  usual,"  replied  Comines. 
"  *  Which  of  you  was  it,'  he  asked,  *  who  witnessed  the  meet- 
ing of  my  cousin  Louis  and  me  after  the  battle  of  Montl'h^ry,* 
when  I  was  so  thoughtless  as  to  accompany  him  back  within 
the  intrenchments  of  Paris  with  half  a  score  of  attendants, 
and  so  put  my  person  at  the  King's  mercy  ? '  I  replied,  that 
most  of  us  had  been  present,  and  none  could  ever  forget  the 
alarm  which  it  had  been  his  pleasure  to  give  us.  'Well,' 
said  the  Duke,  '  you  blamed  me  for  my  folly,  and  I  confessed 
to  you  that  I  had  acted  like  a  giddy-pated  boy;  and  I  am 
aware,  too,  that,  my  father  of  happy  memory  being  then 
alive,  my  kinsman,  Louis,  would  have  had  less  advantage  by 
seizing  on  my  person  than  I  might  now  have  by  securing  his. 
But,  nevertheless,  if  my  royal  kinsman  comes  hither  on  the 

f  resent  occasion  in  the  same  singleness  of  heart  under  which 
then  acted,  he  shall  be  royally  welcome.     If  it  is  meant  by 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  289 

this  appearance  of  confidence  to  circumvent  and  to  blind  me 
till  he  execute  some  of  his  politic  schemes,  by  St.  George  of 
Burgundy,  let  him  look  to  it ! '  And  so,  having  turned  up 
his  mustachios  and  stamped  on  the  ground,  he  ordered  us 
all  to  get  on  our  horses  and  receive  so  extraordinary  a 
guest/  '^ 

*'  And  you  n?et  the  King  accordingly  ?  '*  replied  the  Count 
of  Crevecoeur.  *' Miracles  have  not  ceased!  How  was  he 
accompanied  ?  '* 

^'  As  slightly  as  might  be/'  answered  D'xlymbercourt :  only 
a  score  or  two  of  the  Scottish  Guard,  and  a  few  knights  and 
gentlemen  of  his  household,  among  whom  his  astrologer, 
Galeotti,  made  the  gayest  figure/' 

^'  That  fellow,''  said  Crevecoeur,  ''holds  some  dependence 
on  the  Cardinal  Balue  ;  I  should  not  be  surprised  that  he  has 
had  his  share  in  determining  the  King  to  this  step  of  doubt- 
ful policy.     Any  nobility  of  higher  rank  ?  " 

*'  There  are  Monsieur  of  Orleans  and  Dunois,"  replied 
Comines, 

^'  I  will  have  a  rouse  with  Dunois,"  said  Crevecoeur,  '*  wag 
the  world  as  it  will.  But  we  heard  that  both  he  and  the  duke 
had  fallen  into  disgrace,  and  were  in  prison  ?  " 

'^  They  were  both  under  arrest  in  the  Castle  of  Loches, 
that  delightful  place  of  retirement  for  the  French  nobility," 
said  d'Hymbercourt ;  ''but  Louis  has  released  them,  in  order 
to  bring  them  with  him,  perhaps  because  he  cared  not  to 
leave  Orleans  behind.  For  his  other  attendants,  faith,  I 
think  his  gossip,  the  hangman  marshall,  with  two  or  three 
of  his  retinue,  and  Oliver,  his  barber,  may  be  the  most  con- 
siderable ;  and  the  whole  bevy  so  poorly  arrayed  that,  by 
my  honor,  the  King  resembles  most  an  old  usurer  going 
to  collect  desperate  debts,  attended  by  a  body  of  catch 
polls." 

"  And  where  is  he  lodged  ?  "   said  Crevecoeur. 

''Nay,  that,"  replied  Comines,  "is  tho  most  marveloug 
of  all.  Our  duke  offered  to  let  the  King's  Archer  Guard 
have  a  gate  of  the  town,  and  a  bridge  of  boats  over  the  Somme, 
and  to  have  assigned  to  Louis  himself  the  adjoining  house, 
belonging  to  a  wealthy  burgess,  Giles  Orthen  ;  but,  ingoing 
thither,  the  King  espied  the  banners  of  De  Lau  and  Pencilde 
Riviere,  whom  he  had  banished  from  France,  and  scared,  as 
it  would  seem,  with  the  thought  of  lodging  so  near  refugees 
and  malcontents  of  his  own  making,  he  craved  to  be  quar- 
tered in  the  Castle  of  Peronne,  and  there  he  hath  his  abode 
accordingly/' 
19 


290  WA  VERLEY  NO  VELS 

"Why,  God  ha'  mercy!"  exclaimed  Crevecoeur,  ^'this  is 
not  only  venturing  into  the  lion's  den,  but  thrusting  his  head 
into  his  very  jaws.  Nothing  less  than  the  very  bottom  of 
the  rat-trap  would  serve  the  crafty  old  politician  1" 

"  Nay/*  said  Comines,  '*  D'Hymbercourt  hath  not  told  you 
the  speech  of  Le  Glorieux,*  which,  in  my  mind,  was  the 
shrewdest  opinion  that  was  given/' 

"  And  what  said  his  most  illustrious  wisdom  ?  "  asked  the 
count. 

"As  the  Duke,''  replied  Comines,  "was  hastily  ordering 
some  vessels  and  ornaments  of  plate  and  the  like,  to  be  pre- 
pared as  presents  for  the  King  and  his  retinue,  by  way  of 
welcome  on  his  arival,  '  Trouble  not  thy  small  brain  about 
it,  my  friend  Charles,'  said  Le  Glorieux  :  '  I  will  give  thy 
cousin  Louis  a  nobler  and  a  fitter  gift  than  thou  canst,  and 
that  is  my  cap  and  bells,  and  my  bauble  to  boot  ;  for,  by 
the  mass,  he  is  a  greater  fool  than  I  am  for  putting  himself 
in  thy  power.'  '  But  if  I  give  him  no  reason  to  repent  it, 
sirrah,  how  then  ? '  said  the  Duke.  '  Then,  truly,  Charles, 
thou  shalt  have  cap  and  bauble  thyself,  as  the  greatest  fool  of 
the  three  of  us.'  I  promise  you  this  knavish  quip  touched 
the  Duke  closely.  I  saw  him  change  color  and  bite  his 
lip.  And  now  our  news  are  told,  noble  Crevecceur,  and 
what  think  you  they  resemble  ?  " 

"  A  mine  full-charged  with  gunpowder,"  answered  Creve- 
cceur, "  which,  I  fear,  it  is  my  fate  to  bring  the  kindled 
linstock.  Your  news  and  mine  are  like  flax  and  fire,  which 
cannot  meet  without  bursting  into  flame,  or  like  certain 
chemical  substances  which  cannot  be  mingled  without  an  ex- 
plosion. Friends — gentlemen,  ride  close  by  my  rein ;  and 
when  I  tell  you  what  has  chanced  in  the  bishopric  of  Liege, 
I  think  you  will  be  of  opinion  that  King  Louis  might  as 
safely  have  undertaken  a  pilgrimage  to  the  infernal  regions 
as  this  ill-timed  visit  to  Peronne." 

The  two  nobles  drew  up  close  on  either  hand  of  the  count, 
and  listened,  with  half-suppressed  exclamations  and  ges- 
tures of  the  deepest  wonder  and  interest,  to  his  account  of 
the  transactions  at  Liege  and  Schonwaldt.  Quentin  was 
then  called  forward,  and  examined  and  re-examined  on  the 
particulars  of  the  bishop's  death,  until  at  length  he  refused 
to  answer  any  further  interrogatories,  not  knowing  where- 
fore they  were  asked,  or  what  use  might  be  made  of  his 
replieB. 

They  now  reached  the  rich  and  level  banks  of  the  Somme, 

♦  The  jester  of  Charles  of  Burgundy,  of  whom  more  hereafter. 


qUENTIN  DUBWARB  291 

and  the  ancient  walls  of  the  little  town  of  Peronne  la  Piicelle, 
and  the  deep  green  meadows  adjoining,  now  whitened  with 
numerous  tents  of  the  Dake  of  Burgundy^s  army,  amounting 
to  about  fifteen  thousand  men. 


CHAPTEK    XXVI 

THE   INTERVIEW 

When  princes  meet,  astrologers  may  murk  it 
An  ominous  conjunction,  full  of  boding. 
Like  that  of  Mars  with  Saturn. 

Old  Play. 

OiSTE  hardly  knows  whether  to  term  it  a  privilege  or  a 
penalty  annexed  to  the  quality  of  princes,  that,  in  their  in- 
tercourse with  each  other,  they  are  required,  by  the  respect 
which  is  due  to  their  own  rank  and  dignity,  to  regulate  their 
feelings  and  expressions  by  a  severe  etiquette,  which  pre- 
cludes all  violent  and  avowed  display  of  passion,  and  which, 
but  that  the  whole  world  are  aware  that  this  assumed  com- 
plaisance is  a  matter  of  ceremony,  might  justly  pass  for  pro- 
found dissimulation.  It  is  no  less  certain,  however,  that  the 
overstepping  of  these  bounds  of  ceremonial,  for  the  purpose 
of  giving  more  direct  vent  to  their  angry  passions,  has  the 
effect  of  compromising  their  dignity  with  the  world  in  gen- 
eral, as  was  particularly  noted  when  those  distinguished 
rivals,  Francis  the  First  and  the  Emperor  Charles,  gave  each 
other  the  lie  direct,  and  were  desirous  of  deciding  their  dif- 
ferences hand  to  hand,  in  single  combat. 

Charles  of  Burgundy,  the  most  hasty  and  impatient,  nay, 
the  most  imprudent,  prince  of  his  time,  found  himself, 
nevertheless,  fettered  within  the  magic  circle  which  pre- 
scribed the  most  profound  deference  to  Louis,  as  his  suzerain 
and  liege  lord,  who  had  deigned  to  confer  upon  him,  a  vassal 
of  the  crown,  the  distinguished  honor  of  a  personal  visit 
Dressed  in  his  ducal  mantle,  and  attended  by  his  great  offi- 
cers and  principal  knights  and  nobles,  he  went  in  gallant 
cavalcade  to  receive  Lous  XL  His  retinue  absolutely 
blazed  with  gold  and  silver  ;  for  the  wealth  of  the  court  of 
England  being  exhausted  by  the  wars  of  York  and  Lan- 
caster, and  the  expenditure  of  France  limited  by  the  econ- 
omy of  the  sovereign,  that  of  Burgundy  was  for  the  time 
the  most  magnificent  in  Europe.  The  cortege  of  Louis,  on 
the  contrary,  was  few  in  number,  and  comparatively  mean 
in  appearance,  and  the  exterior  of  the  King  himself,  in  a 


"The  Duke  .    .   .   kneeling  on  one  knee,  offered  to  hold  the  stirrup." 


,-•"?*?    »,  i  c 


qUENTIN  DURWARD  293 

threadbare  cloak,  with  his  wonted  old  high-crowned  hat 
struck  full  of  images,  rendered  the  contrast  yet  more  strik- 
ing ;  and  as  the  Duke,  richly  attired  with  the  coronet  and 
mantle  of  state,  threw  himself  from  his  noble  charger,  and, 
kneeling  on  one  knee,  offered  to  hold  the  stirrup  while 
Louis  dismounted  from  his  little  ambling  palfrey,  the  effect 
was  almost  grotesque. 

The  greeting  between  the  two  potentates  was,  of  course^ 
as  full  of  affected  kindness  and  compliment  as  it  was  to- 
tally devoid  of  sincerity.  But  the  temper  of  the  Duke 
rendered  it  much  more  difficult  for  him  to  preserve  the 
necessary  appearances  in  voice,  speech,  and  demeanor  ; 
while  in  the  King  every  species  of  simulation  and  dissimu- 
lation seemed  so  much  a  part  of  his  nature  that  those  best 
acquainted  with  him  could  not  have  distinguished  what  was 
feigned  from  what  was  real. 

Perhaps  the  most  accurate  illustration,  were  it  not  un- 
worthy two  such  high  potentates,  would  be  to  suppose  the 
King  m  the  situation  of  a  stranger,  perfectly  acquainted 
with  the  habits  and  dispositions  of  the  canine  race,  who,  for 
some  purpose  of  his  own,  is  desirous  to  make  friends  with  a 
layge  and  surly  mastiff,  that  holds  him  in  suspicion,  and  is 
disposed  to  worry  him  on  the  first  symptoms  either  of  diffi- 
dence or  of  umbrage.  The  mastiff  growls  internally,  erects 
his  bristles,  shows  his  teeth,  yet  is  ashamed  to  fly  upon  the  in- 
truder, who  seems  at  the  same  time  so  kind  and  so  confiding, 
and  therefore  the  animal  endures  advances  which  are  far 
from  pacifying  him,  watching  at  the  same  time  the  slight- 
est opportunity  which  may  justify  him  in  his  own  eyes  for 
seizing  his  friend  by  the  throat. 

The  King  was  no  doubt  sensible,  from  the  altered  voice, 
constrained  manner,  and  abrupt  gestures  of  the  Duke,  that 
the  game  he  had  to  play  was  delicate,  and  perhaps  he  more 
than  once  repented  having  even  taken  it  in  hand.  But  re- 
pentance was  too  late,  and  all  that  remained  for  him  was 
that  inimitable  dexterity  of  management  which  the  King 
understood  equally  at  least  with  any  man  that  ever  lived. 

The  demeanor  which  Louis  used  towards  the  Duke  was 
such  as  to  resemble  the  kind  overflowing  of  the  heart  in  a 
moment  of  sincere  reconciliation  with  an  honored  and  tried 
friend,  from  whom  he  had  been  estranged  by  temporary  cir- 
cumstances now  passed  away,  and  forgotten  as  soon  as 
removed.  The  King  blamed  himself  for  not  having  sooner 
taken  the  decisive  step  of  convincing  his  kind  and  good 
kinsman,  by  such  a  mark  of  confidence  as  he  was  now  be- 


294  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

stowing,  that  the  angry  passages  which  had  occurred  betwixt 
them  were  nothing  in  his  remembrance  when  weighed 
against  the  kindness  which  received  him  when  an  exile  from 
France,  and  under  the  displeasure  of  the  King  his  father. 
He  spoke  of  the  Good  Duke  of  Burgundy,  as  Philip  the 
father  of  Duke  Charles  was  currently  called,  and  remem- 
bered a  thousand  instances  of  his  paternal  kindness. 

''1  think,  cousin,"  he  said,  ''your  father  made  little 
difference  in  his  affection  betwixt  you  and  me  ;  for  I  re- 
member, when  by  an  accident  1  had  bewildered  myself  in  a 
hunting-party,  I  found  the  Good  Duke  upbraided  you  with 
leaving  me  in  the  forest,  as  if  you  had  been  careless  of  the 
safety  of  an  elder  brother." 

The  Duke  of  Burgundy's  features  were  naturally  harsh  and 
severe,  and  when  he  attempted  to  smile,  in  polite  acquies- 
cence to  the  truth  of  what  the  King  told  him,  the  grimace 
which  he  made  was  truly  diabolical. 

"Prince  of  dissemblers,"  he  said  in  his  secret  soul,  ''would 
that  it  stood  with  my  honor  to  remind  you  how  you  have 
requited  all  the  benefits  of  our  house  ! " 

"And  then,"  continued  the  King,  "if  the  ties  of  con- 
sanguinity and  gratitude  are  not  sufficient  to  bind  us  to- 
gether, my  fair  cousin,  we  have  those  of  spiritual  relation- 
ship ;  for  I  am  godfather  to  your  fair  daughter  Mary,  who  is 
as  dear  to  me  as  one  of  my  own  maidens  ;  and  when  the 
saints — their  holy  name  be  blessed  ! — sent  me  a  little  blossom 
which  withered  in  the  course  of  three  months,  it  was  your 
princely  father  who  held  it  at  the  font,  and  celebrated  the 
ceremony  of  baptism  with  richer  and  prouder  maguificence 
than  Paris  itself  could  have  afforded.  Never  shall  I  forget 
the  deep,  the  indelible  impression  which  the  generosity  of 
Duke  Philip,  and  yours,  my  dearest  cousin,  made  upon  the 
half -broken  heart  of  the  poor  exile  !  " 

"Your  Majesty,"  said  the  Duke,  compelling  himself  to 
make  some  reply,  "  acknowledged  that  slight  obligation  in 
terms  which  overpaid  all  the  display  which  Burgundy  could 
make  to  show  due  sense  of  the  honor  you  had  done  its 
sovereign." 

"I  remember  the  words  you  mean,  fair  cousin,"  said  the 
King,  smiling ;  I  think  they  were,  that  in  guerdon  of  the 
benefit  of  that  day,  I,  poor  wanderer,  had  nothing  to  offer 
save  the  persons  of  myself,  of  my  wife,  and  of  my  child.  Well, 
and  I  think  I  have  indifferently  well  redeemed  my  pledge." 

"  I  mean  not  to  dispute  what  your  Majesty  is  pleased  to 
.ftver/' said  the  Duke ;"  but ^ 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  2^5 

^^  But  you  ask,"  said  the  King,  interrupting  him,  "  how 
my  actions  have  accorded  with  my  words.  Marry  thus  :  the 
body  of  my  infant  child  Joachim  rests  in  Burgundian  earth  ; 
my  own  person  I  have  this  morning  placed  unreservedly  in 
your  power  ;  and  for  that  of  my  wife — truly,  cousin,  I  think, 
considering  the  period  of  time  which  has  passed,  you  will 
scarce  insist  on  my  keeping  my  word  in  that  particular. 
She  was  born  on  the  day  of  the  Blessed  Annunciation  (he 
crossed  himself  and  muttered  an  Ora  pro  nobis),  some  fifty 
years  since  ;  but  she  is  no  farther  distant  than  Rheims,  and 
if  you  insist  on  my  promise  being  fulfilled  to  the  letter,  she 
shall  presently  wait  your  pleasure." 

Angry  as  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  was  at  the  barefaced 
attempt  of  the  King  to  assume  towards  him  a  tone  of  friend- 
ship and  intimacy,  he  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  whim- 
sical reply  of  that  singular  monarch,  and  his  laugh  was  as 
discordant  as  the  abrupt  tones  of  passion  in  which  he  often 
spoke.  Having  laughed  longer  and  louder  than  was  at  that 
period,  or  would  now  be,  thought  fitting  the  time  and 
occasion,  he  answered  in  the  same  tone,  bluntly  declining 
the  honor  of  the  Queen's  company,  but  stating  his  willing- 
ness to  accept  that  of  the  King's  eldest  daughter,  whose 
beauty  was  celebrated. 

"  I  am  happy,  fair  cousin,"  said  the  King,  with  one  of 
those  dubious  smiles  of  which  he  frequently  made  use,  ''  that 
your  gracious  pleasure  has  not  fixed  on  my  younger  daughter 
Joan.  I  should  otherwise  have  had  spear-breaking  between 
you  and  my  cousin  of  Orleans  ;  and,  had  harm  come  of  it,  I 
must  on  either  side  have  lost  a  kind  friend  and  affectionate 
cousin." 

''Nay — nay,  my  royal  sovereign,"  said  Duke  Charles, 
''the  Duke  of  Orleans  shall  have  no  interruption  from  me 
in  the  path  which  he  has  chosen  par  amours.  The  cause  in 
which  I  couch  my  lance  against  Orleans  must  be  fair  and 
straight." 

Louis  was  far  from  taking  amiss  this  brutal  allusion  to  the 
personal  deformity  of  the  Princess  Joan.  On  the  contrary, 
he  was  rather  pleased  to  find  that  the  Duke  was  content  to 
be  amused  with  broad  jests,  in  which  he  was  himself  a  pro- 
ficient, and  which,  according  to  the  modern  phrase,  spared 
much  sentimental  hypocrisy.  Accordingly,  he  speedily 
placed  their  intercourse  on  such  a  footing  that  Charles, 
though  he  felt  it  impossible  to  play  the  part  of  an  affection- 
ate and  reconciled  friend  to  a  monarch  whose  ill  offices  he 
had  so  often  encountered,  and  whose  sincerity  on  the  present 


296 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


occasion  he  so  strongly  doubted,  yet  had  no  difficulty  in  act- 
ing the  hearty  landlord  towards  a  facetious  guest ;  and  so 
the  want  of  reciprocity  in  kinder  feelings  between  them  was 
supplied  by  the  tone  of  good  fellowship  which  exists  between 
two  boon  companions — a  tone  natural  to  the  Duke  from  the 
frankness,  and,  it  might  be  added,  the  grossness,  of  his 
character,  and  to  Louis,  because,  though  capable  of  assum- 
ing any  mood  of  social  intercourse,  that  which  really  suited 
him  best  was  mingled  with  grossness  of  ideas  and  caustic 
humor  of  expression. 

Both  princes  were  happily  able  to  preserve,  during  the 
period  of  a  banquet  at  the  town  house  of  Peronne,  the  same 
kind  of  conversation,  on  which  they  met  as  on  a  neutral 
ground,  and  which,  as  Louis  easily  perceived,  was  more 
available  than  any  other  to  keep  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  in  that 
state  of  composure  which  seemed  necessary  to  his  own  safety. 

Yet  he  was  alarmed  to  observe  that  the  Duke  had  around 
him  several  of  those  French  nobles,  and  those  of  the  highest 
rank  and  in  situations  of  great  trust  and  power,  whom  his 
own  severity  or  injustice  had  driven  into  exile  ;  and  it  was 
to  secure  himself  from  the  possible  effects  of  their  resent- 
ment and  revenge  that  (as  already  mentioned)  he  requested 
to  be  lodged  in  the  castle  or  citadel  of  Peronne  rather  than 
in  the  town  itself.*  This  was  readily  granted  by  Duke 
Charles,  with  one  of  those  grim  smiles  of  which  it  was  impos- 
sible to  say  whether  it  meant  good  or  harm  to  the  party 
whom  it  concerned. 

But  when  the  King,  expressing  himself  with  as  much 
delicacy  as  he  could,  and  in  the  manner  he  thought  best 
qualified  to  lull  suspicion  to  sleep,  asked  whether  the  Scottish 
Archers  of  his  Guard  might  not  maintain  the  custody  of  the 
Castle  of  Peronne  during  his  residence  there,  in  lieu  of  the 
gate  of  the  town  which  the  Duke  had  offered  to  their  care, 
Charles  replied,  with  his  wonted  sternness  of  voice  and 
abruptness  of  manner,  rendered  more  alarming  by  his  habit, 
when  he  spoke,  of  either  turning  up  his  mustachios  or  hand- 
ling his  sword  or  dagger,  the  last  of  which  he  used  frequently 
to  draw  a  little  way  and  then  return  to  the  sheathf — **  St. 
Martin  !  'No,  my  liege.  You  are  in  your  vassaFs  camp  and 
city — so  men  call  me  in  respect  to  your  Majesty — my  castle 
and  town  are  yours  and  my  men  are  yours  ;  so  it  is  indifferent 
whether  my  men-at-arms  or  the  Scottish  Archers  guard  either, 

♦  See  Louis's  Suspicious  Character.     Note  37. 
f  This  gesture,  very  indicative  of  a  fierce  character,  is  also  by 
stage  tradition  a  distinction  of  Shakespeare's  Richard  III. 


Q  UENTIN  D  VR  WAltD  m 

the  outer  gate  or  defenses  of  the  castle.  No,  by  St.  George ! 
Peronne  is  a  virgin  fortress  ;  she  shall  not  lose  her  reputation 
by  any  neglect  of  mine.  Maidens  must  be  carefully  watched, 
my  royal  cousin,  if  we  would  have  them  continue  to  live  in 
good  fame." 

**  Surely,  fair  cousin,  and  I  altogether  agree  with  you,*' 
said  the  King,  *'  I  being  in  fact  more  interested  in  the  rep- 
utation of  the  good  little  town  than  you  are — Peronne  being, 
as  you  know,  fair  cousin,  one  of  those  upon  the  same  river 
Somme  which,  pledged  to  your  father  of  happy  memory  for 
redemption  of  money,  are  liable  to  be  redeemed  upon  repay- 
ment. And,  to  speak  truth,  coming,  like  an  honest  debtor, 
disposed  to  clear  off  my  obligations  of  every  kind,  I  have 
brought  here  a  few  sumpter  mules  loaded  with  silver  for  the 
redemption — enough  to  maintain  even  your  princely  and 
royal  establishment,  fair  cousin,  for  the  space  of  three  years." 

''I  will  not  receive  a  penny  of  it,"  said  the  Duke,  twirl- 
ing his  mustachios  ;  *'  the  day  of  redemption  is  past,  my  royal 
cousin ;  nor  was  there  ever  serious  purpose  that  the  right 
should  be  exercised,  the  cession  of  these  towns  being  the  sole 
recompense  my  father  ever  received  from  France  when,  in  a 
happy  hour  for  your  family,  he  consented  to  forget  the  mur- 
der of  my  grandfather,  and  to  exchange  the  alliance  of  Eng- 
land for  that  of  your  father.  St.  George!  if  he  had  not  so 
acted,  your  royal  self,  far  from  having  towns  on  the  Somme, 
could  scarce  have  kept  those  beyond  the  Loire.  No  ;  I  will 
not  render  a  stone  of  them,  were  1  to  receive  for  every  stone 
so  rendered  its  weight  in  gold.  I  thank  God,  and  the  wis- 
dom and  valor  of  my  ancestors,  that  the  revenues  of  Bur- 
gundy, though  it  be  but  a  duchy,  will  maintain  my  state, 
even  when  a  king  is  my  guest,  without  obliging  me  to  barter 
my  heritage." 

*^  Well,  fair  cousin,"  answered  the  King,  with  the  same 
mild  and  placid  manner  as  before,  and  unperturbed  by  the 
loud  tone  and  violent  gestures  of  the  Duke,  *'  I  see  that  you 
are  so  good  a  friend  to  France  that  you  are  unwilling  to  part 
with  aught  that  belongs  to  her.  But  we  shall  need  some 
moderator  in  these  affairs  when  we  come  to  treat  of  them  in 
council.     What  say  you  to  St.  Paul  ?  " 

"  Neither  St.  Paul,  nor  St.  Peter,  nor  e'er  a  saint  in  the 
calendar,"  said  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  "shall  preach  me  out 
of  the  possession  of  Peronne." 

*'  Nay,  but  you  mistake  me,"  said  King  Louis,  smiling ; 
*'I  mean  Louis  de  Luxembourg,  our  trusty  constable,  the 
Count  of  St.  Paul.     Ah  I  St.  Mary  of  Embrun  I  we  lack  but 


298  WAVt^ntET  NOVELS 

his  head  at  our  conference  !  the  best  head  in  France,  and 
the  most  useful  to  the  restoration  of  perfect  harmony  be- 
twixt us." 

''  By  St.  George  of  Burgundy  ! "  said  the  Duke,  ^'  I  marvel 
to  hear  your  Majesty  talk  thus  of  a  man  false  and  perjured 
both  to  France  and  Burgundy — one  who  hath  ever  endeav- 
ored to  fan  into  a  flame  our  frequent  diiferences,  and  that 
with  the  purpose  of  giving  himself  the  airs  of  a  mediator. 
I  swear  by  the  order  I  wear,  that  his  marshes  shall  not  be 
long  a  resource  for  him  ! '' 

''  Be  not  so  warm,  cousin,"  replied  the  King,  smiling,  and 
speaking  under  his  breath  ;  ^^  when  I  wished  for  the  con- 
stable's head,  as  a  means  of  ending  the  settlement  of  our 
trifling   differences,   I   had   no  desire  for  his   bodi/,  whicl 
might  remain  at  St.  Quentin's  with  much  convenience." 

*'  Ho  !  ho  !  I  take  your  meaning,  my  royal  cousin,"  said] 
Charles,  with  the  same  dissonant  laugh  which  some  other  of 
the  King^s  coarse  pleasantries  had  extorted,  and  added,] 
stamping  with  his  heel  on  the  ground,  ^'I  allow,  in  that! 
sense,  the  head  of  the  constable  might  be  useful  at  Peronne/l 

These,  and  other  discourses,  by  which  the  King  mixed! 
hints  at  serious  affairs  amid  matters  of  mirth  and  amusement,! 
did  not  follow  each  other  consecutively  ;  but  were  adroitly] 
introduced  during  the  time  of  the  banquet  at  the  hotel  de 
ville,  during  a  subsequent  interview  in  the  Duke's  own  apart-j 
ments,  and,  in  short,  as  occasion  seemed  to  render  the  in- 
troduction of  such  delicate  subjects  easy  and  natural. 

Indeed,  however  rashly  Louis  had  placed  himself  in  a  risl 
which  the  Duke's  fiery  temper,  and  the  mutual  subjects  oi 
exasperated  enmity  which  subsisted  betwixt  them,  rendered! 
of  doubtful  and  perilous  issue,  never  pilot  on  an  unknown! 
coast  conducted  himself  with  more  firmness  and  prudence.f 
He  seemed  to  sound,  with  the  utmost  address  and  precision,] 
the  depths  and  shallows  of  his  rival's  mind  and  temper,  andj 
manifested   neither  doubt  nor  fear  when  the  result  of  his 
experiments  discovered  much  more  of  sunken  rocks  and  oi 
dangerous  shoals  than  of  safe  anchorage. 

At   length   a   day   closed  which  must  have  been  a  weari- 
some one  to  Louis,  from  the  constant  exertion,  vigilance,| 
precaution,  and  attention  which  his  situation  required,  as  i1 
was  a  day  of  constraint  to  the  Duke,  from  the  necessity  o^ 
suppressing  the  violent  feelings   to  which  he  was  in   thel 
general  habit  of  giving  uncontrolled  vent. 

No  sooner  had  the  latter  retired  into  his  own  apartment,! 
after  he  had  taken  a  formal  leave  of  the  King  for  the  nighy 


qUENTlN  DURWARD  299 

than  he  gave  way  to  the  explosion  of  passion  which  he  had 
80  long  suppressed  ;  and  many  an  oath  and  abusive  epithet, 
as  his  jester,  Le  Glorieux,  said,  '*  fell  that  night  upon  heads 
which  they  were  never  coined  for,"  his  domestics  reaping  the 
benefit  of  that  hoard  of  injudicious  language  which  he  could 
not  in  decency  bestow  on  his  royal  guest,  even  in  his  absence, 
and  which  was  yet  become  too  great  to  be  altogether  sup- 
pressed. The  jests  of  the  clown  had  some  effect  in  tran- 
quilizing  the  Duke's  angry  mood  ;  he  laughed  loudly,  threw 
the  jester  a  piece  of  gold,  caused  himself  to  be  disrobed  in 
tranquility,  swallowed  a  deep  cup  of  wine  and  spices,  went 
to  bed,  and  slept  soundly. 

The  couchee  of  King  Louis  is  more  worthy  of  notice  than 
that  of  Charles  ;  for  tlie  violent  expression  of  exasperated 
and  headlong  passion,  as  indeed  it  belongs  more  to  the  brutal 
than  the  intelligent  part  of  our  nature,  has  little  to  interest 
us  in  comparison  to  the  deep  workings  of  a  vigorous  and  power- 
ful mind. 

Louis  was  escorted  to  the  lodgings  he  had  chosen  in  the 
castle,  or  citadel,  of  Peronne  by  the  chamberlains  and  har- 
bingers of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  and  received  at  the  en- 
trance by  a  strong  guard  of  archers  and  men-at-arms. 

As  he  descended  from  his  horse  to  cross  the  drawbridge, 
over  a  moat  of  unusual  width  and  depth,  he  looked  on  the 
sentinel,  and  observed  to  Comines,  who  accompanied  him, 
with  other  Burgundian  nobles,  '^They  wear  St.  Andrew's 
crosses,  but  not  those  of  my  Scottish  Archers." 

*^  You  will  find  them  as  ready  to  die  in  your  defense,  sire," 
said  the  Burgundian,  whose  sagacious  ear  had  detected  in 
the  King's  tone  of  speech  a  feeling  which  doubtless  Louis 
would  have  concealed  if  he  could.  "  They  wear  the  St. 
Andrew's  cross  as  the  appendage  of  the  collar  of  the  Golden 
Fleece,  my  master  the  Duke  of  Burgundy's  order." 

'^Do  I  not  know  it?"  said  Louis,  showing  the  collar 
which  he  himself  wore  in  compliment  to  his  host.  '^  It  is  one 
of  the  dear  bonds  of  fraternity  which  exist  between  my  kind 
brother  and  myself.  We  are  brothers  in  chivalry,  as  in 
spiritual  relationship — cousins  by  birth,  and  friends  by  every 
tie  of  kind  feeling  and  good  neighborhood.  No  farther 
than  the  base-court,  my  noble  lords  and  gentlemen  !  I  can 
permit  your  attendance  no  farther  ;  you  have  done  me 
enough  of  grace." 

*'  We  were  charged  by  the  Duke,"  said  D'Hymbercourt, 
*'to  bring  your  Majesty  to  your  lodging.  We  trust  your 
Majesty  will  permit  us  to  obey  our  master's  command." 


800  •  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'*  In  this  small  matter/'  said  the  King,  '^I  trust  you  will 
allow  my  command  to  outweigh  his,  even  with  you  his  liege 
subjects.  I  am  something  indisposed,  my  lords — something 
fatigued.  Great  pleasure  hath  its  toils  as  well  as  great 
pain.  I  trust  to  enjoy  your  society  better  to-morrow.  And 
yours, too,  Seignior  Philip  of  Comines.  I  am  told  you  are 
the  annalist  of  the  time  ;  we  that  desire  to  have  a  name  in 
history  must  speak  you  fair,  for  men  say  your  pen  hath  a 
sharp  point,  when  you  will.  Good-night,  my  lords  and 
gentles,  to  all  and  each  of  you." 

The  lords  of  Burgundy  retired,  much  pleased  with  the 
grace  of  Louis's  manner  and  the  artful  distribution  of  his 
attentions  ;  and  the  King  was  left  with  only  one  or  two  of 
his  own  personal  followers,  under  the  archway  of  the  base- 
court  of  the  Castle  of  Peronne,  looking  on  the  huge  tower 
which  occupied  one  of  the  angles,  being  in  fact  the  donjon, 
or  principal  keep,  of  the  place.  This  tall,  dark,  massive 
building  was  seen  clearly  by  the  same  moon  which  was  light- 
ing Quentin  Durward  betwixt  Charleroi  and  Peronne,  which, 
as  the  reader  is  aware,  shone  with  peculiar  luster.  The 
great  keep  was  in  form  nearly  resembling  the  White  Tower 
in  the  citadel  of  London,  but  still  more  ancient  in  its  archi- 
tecture, deriving  its  date,  as  was  affirmed,  from  the  days  of 
Charlemagne.  The  walls  were  of  a  tremendous  thickness, 
the  windows  very  small,  and  grated  with  bars  of  iron,  and 
the  huge  clumsy  bulk  of  the  building  cast  a  dark  and  por- 
tentous shadow  over  the  whole  of  the  courtyard. 

^'  I  am  not  to  be  lodged  there!  "  the  King  said,  with  a  shud- 
der that  had  something  in  it  ominous. 

''  No,''  replied  the  gray-headed  seneschal,  who  attended 
upon  him  unbonneted.  ''  God  forbid  !  Your  Majesty's 
apartments  are  prepared  in  these  lower  buildings  which  are 
hard  by,  and  in  which  King  John  slept  two  nights  before 
the  battle  of  Poictiers." 

*'Hum — that  is  no  lucky  omen  either,"  muttered  the 
King ;  "  but  what  of  the  tower,  my  old  friend  ?  and  why 
should  you  desire  of  Heaven  that  I  may  not  be  there 
lodged?" 

"Nay,  my  gracious  liege,"  said  the  seneschal,  *' I  know  no 
evil  of  the  tower  at  all — only  that  the  sentinels  say  lights  are 
seen,  and  strange  noises  heard  in  it  at  night  ;  and  there  are 
reasons  why  that  may  be  the  case,  for  anciently  it  was  used 
as  a  state  prison,  and  there  are  many  tales  of  deeds  which 
have  been  done  in  it." 

Louis  asked  no  farther  questions ;  for  no  man  waa  more 


qUENTIN  DURWARD  80J 

bound  than  he  to  respect  the  secrets  of  a  prison-house.  At 
the  door  of  the  apartment  destined  for  his  use,  which, 
though  of  later  date  than  the  tower,  were  still  both  ancient 
and  gloomy,  stood  a  small  party  of  the  Scottish  Guard, 
which  the  Duke,  although  he  declined  to  concede  the  point 
to  Louis,  had  ordered  to  be  introduced,  so  as  to  be  near  the 
person  of  their  master.  The  faithful  Lord  Crawford  was  at 
their  head. 

"  Crawford — my  honest  and  faithful  Crawford,^'  said  the 
King,  ''  where  hast  thou  been  to-day  ?  Are  the  lords  of  Bur- 
gundy so  inhospitable  as  to  neglect  one  of  the  bravest  and  most 
noble  gentlemen  that  ever  trod  a  court  ?  I  saw  you  not  at 
the  banquet." 

*'  I  declined  it,  my  liege,"  said  Crawford.  ''  Times  are 
changed  with  me.  The  day  has  been  that  I  could  have  ven- 
tured a  carouse  with  the  best  man  in  Burgundy,  and  that  in 
the  juice  of  his  own  grape  ;  but  a  matter  of  four  pints  now 
flusters  me,  and  I  think  it  concerns  your  Majesty's  service  to 
set  in  this  an  example  to  my  callants." 

"Thou  art  ever  prudent,"  said  the  King;  "but  surely 
your  toil  is  the  less  when  you  have  so  few  men  to  command  ? 
and  a  time  of  festivity  requires  not  so  severe  self-denial  on 
your  part  as  a  time  of  danger." 

"If  I  have  few  men  to  command,"  said  Crawford,  "I 
have  the  more  need  to  keep  the  knaves  in  fitting  condition  ; 
and  whether  this  business  be  like  to  end  in  feasting  or  fight- 
ing, God  and  your  Majesty  knows  better  than  old  John  of 
Crawford." 

"  You  surely  do  not  apprehend  any  danger  ? "  said  the 
King  hastily,  yet  in  a  whisper. 

"  Not  I,"  answered  Crawford.  "  I  wish  I  did  ;  for,  as  old 
Earl  Tineman  *  used  to  say,  apprehended  dangers  may  be 
always  defended  dangers.  The  word  for  the  night,  if  your 
Majesty  pleases  ?" 

"Let  it  be  'Burgundy,'  in  honor  of  our  host  and  of  a 
liquor  that  you  love,  Crawford." 

"  I  will  quarrel  with  neither  duke  nor  drink  so  called," 
said  Crawford,  "  provided  always  that  both  be  sound.  A 
good  night  to  your  Majesty  ! " 

"A  good  night,  my  trusty  Scot,"  said  the  King,  and  pas- 
sed on  to  his  apartments. 

At  the  door  of  his  bedroom  Le  Balafre  was  placed  sen- 
tinel. *'  Follow  me  hither,"  said  the  King  as  he  passed  him  ; 
and  the  archer  accordingly,  like  a  piece  of  machinery  put  in 

*  An  Earl  of  Douglas,  so  called. 


302  WAVEELEY  NOVELS 

motion  by  an  artist,  strode  after  him  into  the  apartment, 
and  remained  there  fixed,  silent,  and  motionless,  attending 
the  royal  command. 

"Have  you  heard  from  that  wandering  paladin,  your 
nephew?"  said  the  king;  *^'for  he  hath  been  lost  to  us 
since,  like  a  young  knight  who  had  set  out  upon  his  first 
adventures,  he  sent  us  home  two  prisoners,  as  the  first-fruits 
of  his  chivalry." 

"  My  lord,  I  heard  something  of  that,"  said  Balafre  ; 
"  and  I  hope  your  Majesty  will  believe  that,  if  he  hath  acted 
wrongfully,  it  was  in  no  shape  by  my  precept  or  example, 
since  I  never  was  so  bold  as  to  unhorse  any  of  your  Ma- 
jesty's most  illustrious  house,  better  knowing  my  own  con- 
dition, and " 

"  Be  silent  on  that  point,"  said  the  King  ;  "  your  nephew 
did  his  duty  in  the  matter." 

'^ There,  indeed,"  continued  Balafre,  "he  had  the  cue 
from  me.  ^  Quentin,'  said  I  to  him,  'whatever  comes  of 
it,  remember  you  belong  to  the  Scottish  Archer  Guard,  and 
do  your  duty  whatever  comes  on't.' " 

"  I  guessed  he  had  some  such  exquisite  instructor,"  saia 
Louis  ;  "  but  it  concerns  me  that  you  answer  my  first  ques- 
tion. Have  you  heard  of  your  nephew  of  late  ?  Stand 
aback,  my  masters,"  he  added,  addressing  the  gentlemen  of 
his  chamber,  "  for  this  concerneth  no  ears  but  mine." 

"  Surely,  please  your  Majesty,"  said  Balafre,  "  I  have 
seen  this  very  evening  the  groom  Oharlet,  whom  my  kins- 
man despatched  from  Liege,  or  some  castle  of  the  bishop's 
which  is  near  it,  and  where  he  hath  lodged  the  Ladies  of 
Croye  in  safety." 

"  Now  Our  Lady  of  heaven  be  praised  for  it ! "  said  the 
King.     "  Art  thou  sure  of  it  ? — sure  of  the  good  news  ?  " 

"  As  sure  as  I  can  be  of  aught,"  said  Le  Balafre.  "  The 
fellow,  I  think,  hath  letters  for  your  Majesty  from  the 
Ladies  of  Croye." 

"  Haste  to  get  them,"  said  the  King.  "  Give  thy  har- 
quebuss  to  one  of  these  knaves — to  Oliver — to  any  one. 
Now  Our  Lady  of  Embrun  be  praised  !  and  silver  shall  be 
the  screen  that  surrounds  her  high  altar  ! " 

Louis,  in  this  fit  of  gratitude  and  devotion,  doffed,  as 
usual,  his  hat,  selected  from  the  figures  with  which  it  was 
garnished  that  which  represented  his  favorite  image  of  the 
Virgin,  placed  it  on  a  tabl^,  and,  kneeling  down,  repeated 
reverently  the  vow  he  had  made. 

The  groom,  being  the  first  messenger  whom  Durward  had 


OUENTIN  DURWARD  808 

despatched  from  Schonwaldt,  was  now  introduced  with  his 
letters.  They  were  addressed  to  the  King  by  the  Ladies  of 
Croye,  and  barely  thanked  him  in  very  cold  terms  for  his 
courtesy  while  at  his  court,  and,  something  more  warmly, 
for  having  permitted  them  to  retire,  and  sent  them  in  safety 
from  his  dominions,  expressions  at  which  Louis  laughed 
very  heartily,  instead  of  resenting  them.  He  then  de- 
manded of  Charlet,  with  obvious  interest,  whether  they  had 
not  sustained  some  alarm  or  attack  upon  the  road  ?  Char- 
let,  a  stupid  fellow,  and  selected  for  that  quality,  gave  a 
very  confused  account  of  the  affray  in  which  his  companion, 
the  Gascon,  had  been  killed,  but  knew  of  no  other.  Again 
Louis  demanded  of  him,  minutely  and  particularly,  the 
route  which  the  party  had  taken  to  Liege  ;  and  seemed  much 
interested  when  he  was  informed,  in  reply,  that  they  had, 
upon  approaching  Namur,  kept  the  more  direct  road  to 
Liege,  upon  the  right  bank  of  the  Maes,  instead  of  the  left 
bank,  as  recommended  in  their  route.  The  King  then  or- 
dered the  man  a  small  present  and  dismissed  him,  disguising 
the  anxiety  he  had  expressed,  as  if  it  only  concerned  the 
safety  of  the  Ladies  of  Croye. 

Yet  the  news,  though  they  inferred  the  failure  of  one  of 
his  own  favorite  plans,  seemed  to  imply  more  internal  satis- 
faction on  the  King^s  part  than  he  would  have  probably  in- 
dicated in  a  case  of  brilliant  success.  He  sighed  like  one 
whose  breast  has  been  relieved  from  a  heavy  burden,  mut- 
tered his  devotional  acknowledgments  with  an  air  of  deep 
sanctity,  raised  up  his  eyes,  and  hastened  to  adjust  newer 
and  surer  schemes  of  ambition. 

With  such  purpose,  Louis  ordered  the  attendance  of  his 
astrologer,  Martins  Galeotti,  who  appeared  with  his  usual 
air  of  assumed  dignity,  yet  not  without  a  shade  of  uncer- 
tainty on  his  brow,  as  if  he  had  doubted  the  King^s  kind 
reception.  It  was,  however,  favorable,  even  beyond  the 
warmest  which  he  had  ever  met  with  at  any  former .  inter- 
view. Louis  termed  him  his  friend,  his  father  in  the 
sciences,  the  glass  by  which  a  king  should  look  into  distant 
futurity,  and  concluded  by  thrusting  on  his  finger  a  ring  of 
very  considerable  value.  Galeotti,  not  aware  of  the  cir- 
cumstances which  had  thus  suddenly  raised  his  character  in 
the  estimation  of  Louis,  yet  understood  his  own  profession 
too  well  to  let  that  ignorance  be  seen.  He  received  with 
grave  modesty  the  praises  of  Louis,  which  he "  contended 
were  only  due  to  the  nobleness  of  the  science  which  he 
practised,  a  science  the  rather  the  more  deserring  of  admi- 


304  WA  VERLEY  NOVELS 

ration  on  account  of  its  working  miracles  through  means  of 
so  feeble  an  agent  as  himself  ;  and  he  and  the  King  took 
leave  for  once  much  satisfied  with  each  other. 

On  the  astrologer's  departure,  Louis  threw  himself  into  a 
chair,  and  appearing  much  exhausted,  dismissed  the  rest 
of  his  attendants,  excepting  Oliver  alone,  who,  creeping 
around  with  gentle  assiduity  and  noiseless  step,  assisted  him 
in  the  task  of  preparing  for  repose. 

While  he  received  this  assistance,  the  King,  unlike  to  his 
wont,  was  so  silent  and  passive,  that  his  attendant  was  struck 
by  the  unusual  change  in  his  deportment.  The  worst  minds 
have  often  something  of  good  principle  in  them  :  banditti 
show  fidelity  to  their  captain,  and  sometimes  a  protected 
and  promoted  favorite  has  felt  a  gleam  of  sincere  interest  in 
the  monarch  to  whom  he  owed  his  greatness.  Oliver  le 
Diable,  le  Mauvais,  or  by  whatever  other  name  he  was  called 
expressive  of  his  evil  propensities,  was,  nevertheless,  scarcely 
so  completely  identified  with  Satan  as  not  to  feel  some  touch 
of  grateful  feeling  for  his  master  in  this  singular  condition, 
when,  as  it  seemed,  his  fate  was  deeply  interested,  and  his 
strength  seemed  to  be  exhausted.  After  for  a  short  time 
rendering  to  the  King  in  silence  the  usual  services  paid  by 
a  servant  to  his  master  at  the  toilet,  the  attendant  was  at 
length  tempted  to  say,  with  the  freedom  which  his  sovereign's 
indulgence  had  permitted  him  in  such  circumstances,  '^  Tete- 
dieu,  sire,  you  seem  as  if  you  had  lost  a  battle ;  and  yet  I, 
who  was  near  your  Majesty  during  this  whole  day,  never 
knew  you  fight  a  field  so  gallantly.'* 

'^  A  field  ! ''  said  King  Louis,  looking  up,  and  assuming 
his  wonted  causticity  of  tone  and  manner  ;  '^  Pasques-dieu, 
my  friend  Oliver,  say  I  have  kept  the  arena  in  a  bull-fight ; 
for  a  blinder,  and  more  stubborn,  untameable,  uncontroll- 
able brute,  than  our  cousin  of  Burgundy,  never  existed, 
save  in  the  shape  of  a  Murcian  bull,  trained  for  the  bull- 
feasts.  Well,  let  it  pass.  I  dodged  him  bravely.  But, 
Oliver,  rejoice  with  me  that  my  plans  in  Flanders  have  not 
taken  effect,  whether  as  concerning  those  two  rambling  Prin- 
cesses of  Oroye,  or  in  Liege — you  understand  me  ?  " 

''  In  faith,  I  do  not,  sire,"  replied  Oliver ;  "  it  is  impos- 
sible for  me  to  congratulate  your  Majesty  on  the  failure  of 
your  favorite  schemes,  unless  you  tell  me  some  reason  for 
the  change  in  your  own  wishes  and  views.'' 

''  Nay,"  answered  the  King,  "  there  is  no  change  in  either, 
in  a  general  view.  But,  Pasques-dieu,  my  friend,  I  have 
this  day  learned  more  of  Duke  Charles  than  I  before  knew. 


Q  UEN  TIN  D  UR IVABD  805 

When  he  was  Count  de  Charalois,  in  the  time  of  the  old 
Duke  Philip  and  the  banished  Dauphin  of  France,  we  drank, 
and  hunted,  and  rambled  together,  and  many  a  wild  adven- 
ture we  have  had.  And  in  those  days  I  had  a  decided  advan- 
tage over  him,  like  that  which  a  strong  spirit  naturally 
assumes  over  a  weak  one.  But  he  has  since  changed — has 
become  a  dogged,  daring,  assuming,  disputatious  dogmatist, 
who  nourishes  an  obvious  wish  to  drive  matters  to  extremities, 
while  he  thinks  he  has  the  game  in  his  own  hands.  I  was 
compelled  to  glide  as  gently  away  from  each  offensive  topic 
as  if  I  touched  red-hot  iron.  I  did  but  hint  at  the  possibility 
of  those  erratic  Countesses  of  Croye,  ere  they  attained  Liege 
— for  thither  I  frankly  confessed  that,  to  the  best  of  my 
belief,  they  were  gone — falling  into  the  hands  of  some  wild 
snapper  upon  the  frontiers,  and,  Pasques-dieu !  you  would 
have  thought  I  had  spoken  of  sacrilege.  It  is  needless  to 
tell  you  what  he  said,  and  quite  enough  to  say,  that  I  would 
have  held  my  head^s  safety  very  insecure,  if,  in  that  moment, 
accounts  had  been  brought  of  the  success  of  thy  friend,  Wil- 
liam with  the  Beard,  in  his  and  thy  honest  scheme  of  better- 
ing himself  by  marriage. '' 

*'  No  friend  of  mine,  if  it  please  your  Majesty,''  said  Oliver  ; 
"neither  friend  nor  plan  of  mine." 

"True,  Oliver,"  answered  the  king  ;  "thy  plan  had  not 
been  to  wed,  but  to  shave,  such  a  bridegroom.  Well,  thou 
didst  wish  her  as  bad  a  one,  when  thou  didst  modestly  hint 
at  thyself.  However,  Oliver,  lucky  the  man  who  has  her  not ; 
for  hang,  draw,  and  quarter  were  the  most  gentle  words 
which  my  gentle  cousin  spoke  of  him  who  should  wed  the 
young  countess,  his  vassal,  without  his  most  ducal  permis- 
sion." 

"  And  he  is,  doubtless,  as  jealous  of  any  disturbances  in 
the  good  town  of  Liege  ?  "  asked  the  favorite. 

"As  much,  or  much  more  so,"  replied  the  king,  "as 
your  understanding  may  easily  anticipate  ;  but,  ever  since  I 
resolved  on  coming  hither,  my  messengers  have  been  in 
Liege,  to  repress,  for  the  present,  every  movement  to  insur- 
rection ;  and  my  very  busy  and  bustling  friends,  Rouslaer 
and  Pavilion,  have  orders  to  be  quiet  as  a  mouse  until  this 
happy  meeting  between  my  cousin  and  me  is  over." 

"  Judging,  then,  from  your  Majesty's  account,"  said  Oliver 
dryly,  "  the  utmost  to  be  hoped  from  this  meeting  is,  that 
it  should  not  make  your  condition  worse  ?  Surely  this  is 
like  the  crane  that  thrust  her  head  into  the  fox's  mouth, 
and  was  glad  to  thank  her  good  fortune  that  it  was  not  bitten 

2Q 


S06  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

off.  Yet  your  Majesty  seemed  deeply  obliged  even  now  to 
the  sage  philosopher  who  encouraged  you  to  play  so  hopeful 
a  game." 

"No  game,"  said  the  King,  sharply,  ''is  to  be  despaired 
of  until  it  is  lost,  and  that  I  have  no  reason  to  expect  it  will 
be  in  my  own  case.  On  the  contrary,  if  nothing  occurs  to 
stir  the  rage  of  this  vindictive  madman,  I  am  sure  of  victory  ; 
and  surely,  I  am  not  a  little  obliged  to  the  skill  which  selected 
for  my  agent,  as  the  conductor  of  the  Ladies  of  Croye,  a 
youth  whose  horoscope  so  far  corresponded  with  mine,  that 
he  hath  saved  me  from  danger,  even  by  the  disobedience  of 
my  own  commands,  and  taking  the  route  which  avoided  De 
la  Marck^s  ambuscade." 

"  Your  Majesty,"  said  Oliver,  "  may  find  many  agents 
who  will  serve  you  on  the  terms  of  acting  rather  after  their 
own  pleasure  than  your  instructions." 

''Nay,  nay,  Oliver,"  said  Louis  impatiently,  "the  heathen 
poet  speaks  of  vota  diis  exaudita  malignis, — wishes,  that  is, 
which  the  saints  grant  to  us  in  their  wrath  ;  and  such,  in 
the  circumstances,  would  have  been  the  success  of  William 
de  la  Marck^s  exploit,  had  it  taken  place  about  this  time, 
and  while  I  am  in  the  power  of  this  Duke  of  Burgundy. 
And  this  my  own  art  foresaw — fortified  by  that  of  Galeotti  ; 
that  is,  I  foresaw  not  the  miscarriage  of  De  la  Marck^s  un- 
dertaking, but  I  foresaw  that  the  expedition  of  yonder  Scot- 
tish archer  should  end  happily  for  me.  And  such  has  been 
the  issue,  though  in  a  manner  different  from  what  I  expected  ; 
for  the  stars,  though  they  foretell  general  results,  are  yet 
silent  on  the  means  by  which  such  are  accomplished,  being 
often  the  very  reverse  of  what  we  expect,  or  even  desire. 
But  why  talk  I  of  these  mysteries  to  thee,  Oliver,  who  art  in 
so  far  worse  than  the  very  devil,  who  is  thy  namesake,  since 
he  believes  and  trembles  ;  whereas  thou  art  an  infidel  botli 
to  religion  and  to  science,  and  wilt  remain  so  till  thine  own 
destiny  is  accomplished,  which,  as  thy  horoscope  and 
physiognomy  alike  assure  me,  will  be  by  the  intervention  of 
the  gallows  ?  " 

"  And  if  it  indeed  shall  be  so,"  said  Oliver,  in  a  resigned 
tone  of  voice,  "  it  will  be  so  ordered,  because  I  was  too  grate- 
ful a  servant  to  hesitate  at  executing  the  commands  of  my 
royal  master." 

Louis  burst  into  his  usual  sardonic  laugh.  "  Thou  hast 
broken  thy  lance  on  me  fairly,  Oliver  ;  and,  by  Our  Lady, 
thou  art  right,  for  I  defied  thee  to  it.  But,  prithee,  tell  me 
in   sadness,    does   thou   discover  anything   in   these   men's 


Q  UENTIN  D  UR  WA  ED  801 

measures  towards  us,  which  may  argue  any  suspicion  of  ill 


?" 


■*  My  liege/'  replied  Oliver,  ''your  Majesty  and  yonder 
learned  philosopher  look  for  augury  to  the  stars  and  heavenly 
host ;  I  am  an  earthly  reptile,  and  consider  but  the  things 
connected  with  my  vocation.  But,  methinks,  there  is  alack 
of  that  earnest  and  precise  attention  on  your  Majesty,  which 
men  show  to  a  welcome  guest  of  a  degree  so  far  above  them. 
The  Duke,  to-night,  pleaded  weariness,  and  saw  your  Majesty 
not  farther  than  to  the  street,  leaving  to  the  officers  of  his 
household  the  task  of  conveying  you  to  your  lodgings.  The 
rooms  here  are  hastily  and  carelessly  fitted  up  :  the  tapestry 
is  hung  up  awry  ;  and,  in  one  of  the  pieces,  as  you  may 
observe,  the  figures  are  reversed  and  stand  on  their  heads, 
while  the  trees  grow  with  their  roots  uppermost.''' 

''Pshaw!  accident,  and  the  effect  of  hurry,''  said  the 
King.  "  When  did  you  ever  know  me  concerned  about  such 
trifles  as  these  ?  " 

"Not  on  their  own  account  are  they  worth  notice,"  said 
Oliver  ;  "  but  as  intimating  the  degree  of  esteem  in  which 
the  officers  of  the  Duke's  household  observe  your  Grace  to 
be  held  by  him.  Believe  me,  that  had  his  desire  seemed 
sincere  that  your  reception  should  be  in  all  points  marked 
by  scrupulous  attention,  the  zeal  of  his  people  would  have 
made  minutes  do  the  work  of  days.  And  when,"  he  added, 
pointing  to  the  basin  and  ewer,  "  was  the  furniture  of  your 
Majesty's  toilet  of  other  substance  than  silver  ?  " 

"Nay,"  said  the  King,  with  a  constrained  smile,  "that 
last  remark  upon  the  shaving  utensils,  Oliver,  is  too  much 
in  the  style  of  thine  own  peculiar  occupation  to  be  combated 
by  any  one.  True  it  is,  that  when  I  was  only  a  refugee  and 
an  exile,  I  was  served  upon  gold  plate  by  order  of  the  same 
Charles,  who  accounted  silver  too  mean  for  the  Dauphin, 
though  he  seems  to  hold  that  metal  too  rich  for  the  King  of 
France.  Well,  Oliver,  we  will  to  bed.  Our  resolution  has 
been  made  and  executed  ;  there  is  nothing  to  be  done  but  to 
play  manfully  the  game  on  which  we  have  entered.  I  know 
that  my  cousin  of  Burgund}^,  like  other  wild  bulls,  shuts  his 
eyes  when  he  begins  his  career.  I  have  but  to  watch  that 
moment,  like  one  of  the  tauridors  whom  we  saw  at  BurgoS; 
and  his  impetuosity  places  him  at  my  mercy." 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE   EXPLOSION" 

'lis  listening  fear,  and  dumb  amazement  all, 
When  to  the  startled  eye  the  sudden  glance 
Appears  far  south,  eruptive  through  the  cloud. 

Thomson's  Summer, 

The  preceding  chapter,  agreeable  to  its  title,  was  designed 
as  a  retrospect,  which  might  enable  the  reader  fully  to 
understand  the  terms  upon  which  the  King  of  France  and 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy  stood  together,  when  the  former, 
moved,  partly  perhaps  by  his  belief  in  astrology,  which  was 
represented  as  favorable  to  the  issue  of  such  a  measure,  and 
in  a  great  measure  doubtless  by  the  conscious  superiority  of 
his  own  powers  of  mind  over  those  of  Charles,  had  adopted 
the  extraordinary,  and  upon  any  other  ground  altogether  in- 
explicable, resolution  of  committing  his  person  to  the  faith 
of  a  fierce  and  exasperated  enemy — a  resolution  also  the 
more  rash  and  unaccountable,  as  there  were  various  examples 
in  that  stormy  time  to  show,  that  safe-conducts,  however 
solemnly  plighted,  had  proved  no  assurance  for  those  in 
whose  favor  they  were  conceived  ;  and  indeed  the  murder  of 
the  Duke's  grandfather,  at  the  bridge  of  Montereau,  in 
presence  of  the  father  of  Louis,  and  at  an  interview  solemnly 
agreed  upon  for  the  establishment  of  peace  and  amnesty, 
was  a  horrible  precedent,  should  the  Duke  be  disposed  to 
resort  to  it. 

But  the  temper  of  Charles,  though  rough,  fierce,  head- 
long and  unyielding,  was  not,  unless  in  the  full  tide  of 
passion,  faithless  or  ungenerous,  faults  which  usually  belong 
to  colder  dispositions.  He  was  at  no  pains  to  show  the 
King  more  courtesy  than  the  laws  of  hospitality  positively 
demanded  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  he  evinced  no  purpose 
of  overleaping  their  sacred  barriers. 

On  the  following  morning  after  the  King's  arrival,  there 
was  a  general  muster  of  the  troops  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy, 
which  were  so  numerous  and  so  excellently  appointed,  that, 
perhaps,  he  was  not  sorry  to  have  an  opportunity  of  display- 
ing them  before  his  great  rival.     Indeed,  while  he  paid  the 


QUENTIN  DTJRWABD  800 

necessary  compliment  of  a  vassal  to  his  suzerain,  in  declar- 
ing that  these  troops  were  the  King's,  and  not  his  own,  the 
curl  of  his  upper  lip  and  the  proud  glance  of  his  eye  inti- 
mated his  consciousness  that  the  words  he  used  were  but 
empty  compliment,  and  that  his  fine  army,  at  his  own  un- 
limited disposal,  was  as  ready  to  march  against  Paris  as  in 
any  other  direction.  It  must  have  added  to  Louis's  mortifi- 
oation,  that  he  recognized,  as  forming  part  of  this  host, 
many  banners  of  French  nobility,  not  only  of  Normandy 
and  Bretagne,  but  of  provinces  more  immediately  subjected 
to  his  own  authority,  who,  from  various  causes  of  discon- 
tent, had  joined  and  made  common  cause  with  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy. 

True  to  his  character,  however,  Louis  seemed  to  take  little 
notice  of  these  malcontents,  while,  in  fact,  he  was  revolving 
in  his  mind  the  various  means  by  which  it  might  be  possible 
to  detach  them  from  the  banners  of  Burgundy  and  bring 
them  back  to  his  own,  and  resolved  for  that  purpose,  that 
he  would  cause  those  to  whom  he  attached  the  greatest  im- 
portance to  be  secretly  sounded  by  Oliver  and  other  agents. 

He  himself  labored  diligently,  but  at  the  same  time 
cautiously,  to  make  interest  with  the  Duke's  chief  officers 
and  advisers,  employing  for  that  purpose  the  usual  means  of 
familiar  and  frequent  notice,  adroit  flattery,  and  liberal 
presents ;  not,  as  he  represented,  to  alienate  their  faithful 
services  from  their  noble  master,  but  that  they  might  lend 
their  aid  in  preserving  peace  betwixt  France  and  Burgundy 
— an  end  so  excellent  in  itself,  and  so  obviously  tending  to 
the  welfare  of  both  countries,  and  of  the  reigning  princes  of 
either. 

The  notice  of  so  great  and  so  wise  a  king  was  in  itself  a 
mighty  bribe  ;  promises  did  much,  and  direct  gifts,  which 
the  customs  of  the  time  permitted  the  Burgundian  courtiers 
to  accept  without  scruple,  did  still  more.  During  a  boar 
hunt  in  the  forest,  while  the  Duke,  eager  always  upon  the 
immediate  object,  whether  business  or  pleasure,  gave  him- 
self entirely  up  to  the  ardor  of  the  chase,  Louis,  unrestrained 
by  his  presence,  sought  and  found  the  means  of  speaking 
secretly  and  separately  to  many  of  those  who  were  reported 
to  have  most  interest  with  Charles,  among  whom  D'Hymber- 
court  and  Comines  were  not  forgotten  ;  nor  did  he  fail  to 
mix  up  the  advances  which  he  made  towards  those  two  dis- 
tinguished persons  with  praises  of  the  valor  and  military 
skill  of  the  first,  and  of  the  profound  sagacity  and  literary 
talents  of  the  future  historian  of  the  period. 


no  WAV ERLEY  NOVELS 

Sucli  an  opportunity  of  personally  conciliating,  or,  if  the 
reader  pleases,  corrupting,  the  ministers  of  Charles,  was  per- 
haps what  the  King  had  proposed  to  himself  as  a  principal 
object  of  his  visit,  even  if  his  art  should  fail  to  cajole  the 
Duke  himself.  The  connection  betwixt  France  and  Burgundy 
was  so  close,  that  most  of  the  nobles  belonging  to  the  latter 
country  had  hopes  or  actual  interests  connected  with  the 
former,  which  the  favor  of  Louis  could  advance  or  his  per- 
sonal displeasure  destroy.  Formed  for  this  and  every  other 
species  of  intrigue,  liberal  to  profusion  when  it  was  necessary 
to  advance  his  plans,  and  skilful  in  putting  the  most 
plausible  color  upon  his  proposals  and  presents,  the  King 
contrived  to  reconcile  the  spirit  of  the  proud  to  their  profit, 
and  to  hold  out  to  the  real  or  pretended  patriot  the  good  of 
both  France  and  Burgundy  as  the  ostensible  motive  ;  whilst 
the  party^s  own  private  interest,  like  the  concealed  wheel  of 
some  machine,  worked  not  the  less  powerfully  that  its  oper- 
ations were  kept  out  of  sight.  For  each  man  ho  had  a  suit- 
able bait  and  a  proper  mode  of  presenting  it :  he  poured  the 
guerdon  into  the  sleeve  of  those  who  were  too  proud  to  ex- 
tend their  hand,  and  trusted  that  his  bounty,  though  it 
descended  like  the  dew  without  noise  and  imperceptibly, 
would  not  fail  to  produce,  in  due  season,  a  plentiful  crop  of 
goodwill  at  least,  perhaps  of  good  offices,  to  the  donor.  In 
fine,  although  he  had  been  long  paving  the  way  by  his  min 
isters  for  an  establishment  of  such  an  interest  in  the  court 
of  Burgundy  as  should  be  advantageous  to  the  interests  of 
France,  Louisas  own  personal  exertions,  directed  doubtless  bj 
the  information  of  which  he  was  previously  possessed,  did 
more  to  accomplish  that  object  in  a  few  hours  than  hia 
agents  had  effected  in  years  of  negotiation. 

One  man  alone  the  King  missed  whom  he  had  been  partic- 
ularly desironi  zi  conciliating,, and  that  was  the  Count  de 
Crevecngri,  whose  firmness,  during  his  conduct  as  envoy  at 
Pi8Sj»:e,  far  from  exciting  Louisas  resentment,  had  been 
yiewed  as  a  reason  for  making  him  his  own  if  possible.  He  was 
not  particularly  gratified  when  he  learnt  that  the  count,  at 
the  head  of  an  hundred  lances,  was  gone  towards  the  frontiers 
of  Brabant  to  assist  the  bishop,  in  case  of  necessity,  against 
William  de  la  Marck  and  his  discontented  subjects  ;  but  he 
consoled  himself  that  the  appearance  of  this  force,  joined 
with  the  directions  which  he  had  sent  by  faithful  messengers, 
would  serve  to  prevent  any  premature  disturbances  in  that 
country,  the  breaking  out  of  which  might,  he  foresaw,  render 
his  present  situation  very  precarious. 


r 


QVtJNTIN  D VR  WARD  811 


The  court  upon  this  occasion  dined  in  the  forest  when  the 
hour  of  noon  arrived,  as  was  common  in  those  great  hunting 
parties  ;  an  arrangement  at  this  time  particularly  agreeable 
to  the  Duke,  desirous  as  he  was  to  abridge  that  ceremonious 
and  deferential  solemnity  with  which  he  was  otherwise  under 
the  necessity  of  receiving  King  Louis.  In  fact,  the  King's 
knowledge  of  human  nature  had  in  one  particular  misled  him 
on  this  remarkable  occasion.  He  thought  that  the  Duke 
would  have  been  inexpressibly  flattered  to  have  received  such 
a  mark  of  condescension  and  confidence  from  his  liege  lord ; 
but  he  forgot  that  the  dependence  of  this  dukedom  upon  the 
crown  of  France  was  privately  the  subject  of  galling  morti- 
fication to  a  prince  so  powerful,  so  wealthy,  and  so  proud  as 
Charles,  whose  aim  it  certainly  was  to  establish  an  independent 
kingdom.  The  presence  of  the  King  at  the  court  of  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy  imposed  on  that  prince  the  necessity  of 
exhibiting  himself  in  the  subordinate  character  of  a  vassal, 
and  of  dischargiug  many  rites  of  feudal  observance  and  def- 
erence, which,  to  one  of  his  haughty  disposition,  resembled 
derogation  from  the  character  of  a  sovereign  prince,  which 
on  all  occasions  he  affected  as  far  as  possible  to  sustain. 

But  although  it  was  possible  to  avoid  much  ceremony  by 
having  the  dinner  upon  the  green  turf,  with  sound  of  bugles, 
broaching  of  barrels,  and  all  the  freedom  of  a  sylvan  meal, 
it  was  necessary  that  the  evening  repast  should,  even  for  that 
very  reason,  be  held  with  more  than  usual  solemnity. 

Previous  orders  for  this  purpose  had  been  given,  and,  upon 
returning  to  Peronne,  King  Louis  found  a  banquet  prepared 
with  such  a  profusion  of  splendor  and  magnificence,  as  be- 
came the  wealth  of  his  formidable  vassal,  possessed  as  he  was 
of  almost  all  the  Low  Countries,  then  the  richest  portion  of 
Europe.  At  the  head  of  the  long  board,  which  groaned  un- 
der plate  of  gold  and  silver,  filled  to  profusion  with  the  most 
exquisite  dainties,  sat  the  Duke,  and  on  his  right  hand,  up- 
on a  seat  more  elevated  than  his  own,  was  placed  his  royal 
guest.  Behind  him  stood  on  one  side  the  son  of  the  Duke 
of  Gueldres,  who  officiated  as  his  grand  carver,  on  the  other 
Le  Glorieux,  his  Jester,  without  whom  he  seldom  stirred  : 
for,  like  most  men  of  his  hasty  and  coarse  character,  Charles 
carried  to  extremity  the  general  taste  of  that  age  for  court 
fools  and  jesters — experiencing  that  pleasure  in  their  display 
of  eccentricity  and  mental  infirmity  which  his  more  acute, 
but  not  more  benevolent,  rival  loved  better  to  extract  from 
marking  the  imperfections  of  humanity  in  its  nobler  speci* 
mens,  and  finding  subject  for  mirth  in  the  "  fears  of  the  brave 


312  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

and  follies  of  the  wise.'*  And,  indeed,  if  the  anecdote  related 
by  Brantdme  be  true,  that  a  court  fool,  having  overheard 
L/ouis,  in  one  of  his  agonies  of  repentant  devotion,  confess 
his  accession  to  the  poisoning  of  his  brother,  Henry  Count 
of  Guyenne,  divulged  it  next  day  at  dinner  before  the  as- 
sembled court,  that  monarch  might  be  supposed  rather  more 
than  satisfied  with  the  pleasantries  of  professed  jesters  for 
the  rest  of  his  life. 

But,  on  the  present  occasion,  Louis  neglected  not  to  take 
notice  of  the  favorite  buffoon  of  the  Duke,  a^d  to  applaud 
his  repartees  ;  which  he  did  the  rather  that  he  thought  he 
saw  that  the  folly  of  Le  Glorieux,  however  grossly  it  was 
sometimes  displayed,  covered  more  than  the  usual  quantity 
of  shrewd  and  caustic  observation  proper  to  his  class. 

In  fact,  Tiel  Wetzweiler,  called  Le  Glorieux,  was  by  no 
means  a  jester  of  the  common  stamp.  He  was  a  tall,  fine- 
looking  man,  excellent  at  many  exercises,  which  seemed 
scarce  reconcilable  with  mental  imbecility,  because  it  must 
have  required  patience  and  attention  to  attain  them.  He 
usually  followed  the  Duke  to  the  chase  and  to  the  fight ;  and 
at  Montl'h^ry,  when  Charles  was  in  considerable  personal 
danger,  wounded  in  the  throat,  and  likely  to  be  made  pris- 
oner by  a  French  knight  who  had  hold  of  his  horse's  rein, 
Tiel  Wetzweiler  charged  the  assailant  so  forcibly  as  to  over- 
throw him  and  disengage  his  master.  Perhaps  he  was  afraid 
of  this  being  thought  too  serious  a  service  for  a  person  of  his 
condition,  and  that  it  might  excite  him  enemies  among  those 
knights  and  nobles  who  had  left  the  care  of  their  master's 
person  to  the  court  fool.  At  any  rate,  he  chose  rather  to  be 
laughed  at  than  praised  for  his  achievement,  and  made  such 
gasconading  boasts  of  his  exploits  in  the  battle,  that  most 
men  thought  the  rescue  of  Charles  was  as  ideal  as  the  rest 
of  his  tale  ;  and  it  was  on  this  occasion  he  acquired  the  title 
of  Le  Glorieux  (or  the  boastful),  by  which  he  was  ever  after- 
wards distinguished. 

Le  Glorieux  was  dressed  very  richly,  but  with  little  of  the 
usual  distinction  of  his  profession,  and  that  little  rather  of  a 
symbolical  than  a  very  literal  character.  His  head  was  not 
shorn  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  wore  a  profusion  of  long  curled 
hair,  which  descended  from  under  his  cap,  and  joining  with 
a  well-arranged  and  handsomely  trimmed  beard,  set  o9  feat- 
ures which,  but  for  a  wild  lightness  of  eye,  might  have  been 
termed  handsome.  A  ridge  of  scarlet  velvet,  carried  across 
the  top  of  his  cap,  indicated,  rather  than  positively  repre- 
sented, the  professional  cock's-comb,  which  distinguished 


**  *  He  should  succeed  to  the  stools,  as  part  of  their  movable  estate. 


c       • 


qUENTIN  DUBWARB  313 

fche  headgear  of  a  fool  in  right  of  office.  His  bauble,  made 
of  ebony,  was  crested,  as  usual,  with  a  fool's  head,  with  ass's 
ears  formed  of  silver  ;  but  so  small,  and  so  minutely  carved, 
that,  till  very  closely  examined,  it  might  have  passed  for  an 
official  baton  of  a  more  solemn  character.  These  were  the 
only  badges  of  his  office  which  his  dress  exhibited.  In  other 
respects,  it  was  such  as  to  match  with  that  of  the  most 
courtly  nobles.  His  bonnet  displayed  a  medal  of  gold  ;  he 
wore  a  chain  of  the  same  metal  around  his  neck  ;  and  the 
fashion  of  his  rich  garments  was  not  much  more  fantastic 
than  those  of  young  gallants  who  have  their  clothes  made  in 
the  extremity  of  the  existing  fashion. 

To  this  personage  Charles,  and  Louis,  in  imitation  of  his 
host,  often  addressed  themselves  during  the  entertainment  ; 
and  both  seemed  to  manifest,  by  hearty  laughter,  their 
amusement  at  the  answers  of  Le  Glorieux. 

"  Whose  seats  be  those  that  are  vacant  ?  "  said  Charles  to 
the  jester. 

**  One  of  those  at  least  should  be  mine  by  right  of  succes- 
sion, Charles,''  replied  Le  Glorieux. 

'*  Why  so,  knave  ?"  said  Charles. 

''  Because  they  belong  to  the  Sieur  D'Hymbercourt  and 
Des  Comines,  who  are  gone  so  far  to  fly  their  falcons  that 
they  have  forgot  their  supper.  They  who  would  rather  look 
at  a  kite  on  the  wing  than  a  peasant  on  the  board  are  of  kin 
to  the  fool,  and  he  should  succeed  to  the  stools,  as  a  part  of 
their  movable  estate." 

"  That  is  but  a  stale  jest,  my  friend  Tiel,"  said  the  Duke  ; 
^'^but,  fools  or  wise  men,  here  come  the  defaulters." 

As  he  spoke,  Comines  and  D'Hymbercourt  entered  the 
room,  and,  after  having  made  their  reverence  to  the  two 
princes,  assumed  in  silence  the  seats  which  were  left  vacant 
for  them. 

^'  What  ho  !  sirs,"  exclaimed  the  Duke,  addressing  them, 
"your  sport  has  been  either  very  good  or  very  bad,  to  lead 
you  so  far  and  so  late.  Sir  Philip  des  Comines,  you  are 
dejected  ;  hath  D'Hymbercourt  won  so  heavy  a  wager  on 
yoa  ?  You  are  a  philosopher,  and  should  not  grieve  at  bad 
fortune.  By  St.  George  !  D'Hymbercourt  looks  as  sad  as 
thou  dost.  How  now,  sirs  ?  Have  you  found  no  game  ?  or 
have  you  lost  your  falcons  ?  or  has  a  witch  crossed  your  way  ? 
or  has  the  Wild  Huntsman*  met  you  in  the  forest  ?    By  my 

*  The  famous  apparition,  sometimes  called  Le  Grand  Veneur. 
Sully  gives  some  account  of  this  hunting  specter. 


314  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

honor,  yon  seem  as  if  yon  were  come  to  a  tnneral,  not  a 
festival/^ 

While  the  Dnke  spoke,  the  eyes  of  the  company  were  all 
directed  towards  D'Hymberconrfc  and  Des  Oomines ;  and  the 
embarrassment  and  dejection  of  their  countenances,  neither 
being  of  that  class  of  persons  to  whom  such  expression  of 
anxious  melancholy  was  natural,  became  so  remarkable,  that 
the  mirth  and  laughter  of  the  company,  which  the  rapid  cir- 
culation of  goblets  of  excellent  wine  had  raised  to  a  consider- 
able height,  was  gradually  hushed,  and,  without  being  able  to 
assign  any  reason  for  such  a  change  in  their  spirits,  men  spoke 
in  whispers  to  each  other,  as  on  the  eve  of  expecting  some 
strange  and  important  tidings. 

''  What  means  this  silence,  Messires  ? ''  said  the  Duke, 
elevating  his  voice,  which  was  naturally  harsh.  '^If  you 
bring  these  strange  looks,  and  this  stranger  silence,  into 
festivity,  we  shall  wish  you  had  abode  in  the  marshes'  seek- 
ing for  herons,  or  rather  for  woodcocks  and  howlets.^' 

*'  My  gracious  lord,"  said  Des  Comines,  "^  as  we  were  aboutj 
to  return  hither  from  the  forest,  we  met  the  Count  of  Creve- 
coeur."  J 

"How!"  said  the  Duke;  "already  returned  from  Bra- 
bant ?  but  he  found  all  well  there,  doubtless  ?  " 

"  The  count  himself  will  presently  give  your  Grace  an  ac- 
count of  his  news,"  said  D^Hymbercourt,  "  which  we  have 
heard  but  imperfectly." 

"  Body  of  me,  where  is  the  count  ?"  said  the  Duke. 

"  He  changes  his  dress,  to  wait  upon  your  Highness,"  an^ 
swered  D'Hymbercourt. 

"His  dress!  Saint-hleau I "  exclaimed  the  impatient 
prince,  "  what  care  I  for  his  dress  ?  I  think  you  have  con-* 
spired  with  him  to  drive  me  mad." 

"  Or  rather  to  be  plain,"  said  Des  Comines,  "  he  wishes  to| 
communicate  these  news  at  a  private  audience." 

"  Teste-dieu  I  my  lord  king,"  said  Charles,  "  this  is  ever 
the  way  our  counselors  serve  us.     If  they  have  got  hold  ol 
anght  which  they  consider  as  important  for  our  ears,  theyj 
look  as  grave  upon  the  matter,  and  are  as  proud  of  their  bui 
den  as  an  ass  of  a  new  pack-saddle.     Some  one  bid  Crevecoeu] 
come  to  us  directly  I     He  comes  from  the  frontiers  of  Liege>l 
and  we,  at  least  (he  laid  some  emphasis  on  the  pronoun),j 
have  no  secrets  in  that  quarter  which  we  would  shun  to  hav( 
proclaimed  before  the  assembled  world." 

All  perceived  that  the  Duke  had  drunk  so  much  wine  astoj 
increase  the  native  ohs<t.in«,cy  of  his  disposition  ;  and  though! 


QtlENTIN  DUB  WARD  313 

many  would  willingly  have  suggested  that  the  present  was 
neither  a  time  for  hearing  news^  nor  for  taking  counsel,  yet 
all  knew  the  impetuosity  of  his  temper  too  well  to  venture  on 
farther  interference,  and  sat  in  anxious  expectation  of  the 
tidings  which  the  count  might  have  to  communicate. 

A  brief  interval  intervened,  during  which  the  Duke  re- 
mained looking  eagerly  to  the  door,  as  if  in  a  transport  of 
impatience,  whilst  the  guests  sat  with  their  eyes  bent  on  the 
table,  as  if  to  conceal  their  curiosity  and  anxiety.  Louis 
alone  maintaining  perfect  composure,  continued  his  conversa- 
tion alternately  with  the  grand  carver  and  with  the  jester. 

At  length  Orevecceur  entered,  and  was  presently  saluted  by 
the  hurried  question  of  his  master,  "  What  news  from  Liege 
and  Brabant,  sir  count  ?  The  report  of  your  arrival  has 
chased  mirth  from  our  table  ;  we  hope  your  actual  presence 
will  bring  it  back  to  us.^' 

*^My  liege  and  master,"  answered  the  count,  in  a  firm  but 
melancholy  tone,  ^'  the  news  which  I  bring  you  are  fitter  for 
the  council-board  than  the  f easting-table." 

''Out  with  them,  man,  if  they  were  tidings  from  Anti- 
christ !"  said  the  Duke ;  '^'^but  I  can  guess  them  :  the  Lie- 
geois  are  again  in  mutiny." 

*'  They  are  my  lord,"  said  Crevecoeur,  very  gravely. 

"  Look  there,  man,"  said  the  Duke,  *'  I  have  hit  at  once  on 
what  you  have  been  so  much  afraid  to  mention  to  me  :  the 
harebrained  burghers  are  again  in  arms.  It  could  not  be  in 
better  time,  for  we  may  at  present  have  the  advice  of  our  own 
suzerain,"  bowing  to  King  Louis,  with  eyes  which  spoke  the 
most  bitter,  though  suppressed,  resentment,  '*  to  teach  us 
how  such  mutineers  should  be  dealt  with.  Hast  thou  more 
news  in  thy  packet  ?  Out  with  them,  and  then  answer  for 
yourself  why  you  went  not  forward  to  assist  the  bishop." 

"  My  lord,  the  farther  tidings  are  heavy  for  me  to  tell,  and 
will  be  afflicting  to  you  to  hear.  No  aid  of  mine,  or  of  living 
chivalry,  could  have  availed  the  excellent  prelate.  William 
de  la  Marck,  united  with  the  insurgent  Liegeois,  has  taken 
his  castle  of  Schonwaldt,  and  murdered  him  in  his  own 
hall." 

"  Murdered  him!  "  repeated  the  Duke,  in  a  deep  and  low 
tone,  but  which  nevertheless  was  heard  from  the  one  end  of 
the  hall  in  which  they  were  assembled  to  the  other  ;  "thou 
hast  been  imposed  upon,  Crevecoeur,  by  some  wild  report  ; 
it  is  impossible  ! " 

*' Alas,  my  lord  !"  said  the  count,  "  I  have  it  from  an  eye- 
witness, an  archer  of  the  King  of  France's  Scottish  Guard, 


810  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

who  was  in  the  hall  when  the  murder  was  committed  hy  Wil- 
liam de  la  Marck's  order." 

"  And  who  was  doubtless  aiding  and  abetting  in  the  hor- 
rible sacrilege,"  exclaimed  the  Duke,  starting  up  and  stamp- 
ing with  his  foot  with  such  fury  that  he  dashed  in  pieces 
the  footstool  which  was  placed  before  him.  ^^  Bar  the  doors 
of  this  hall,  gentlemen — secure  the  windows — let  no  stran- 
ger stir  from  his  seat,  upon  pain  of  instant  death  !  Gentle- 
men of  my  chamber,  draw  your  swords."  And  turning 
upon  Louis,  he  advanced  his  own  hand  slowly  and  delibera- 
tely to  the  hilt  of  his  weapon  ;  while  the  King,  without 
either  showing  fear  or  assuming  a  defensive  posture,  only 
said — 

"  These  news,  fair  cousin,  have  staggered  your  reason." 

"  No  ! "  replied  the  Duke,  in  a  terrible  tone,  '^  but  they 
have  awakened  a  just  resentment,  which  I  have  too  long 
suffered  to  be  stifled  by  trivial  considerations  of  circumstance 
and  place.  Murderer  of  thy  brother  ! — rebel  against  thy 
parent ! — tyrant  over  thy  subjects  ! — treacherous  ally  ! — per- 
jured king  ! — dishonored  gentleman  ! — thou  art  in  my 
power,  and  I  thank  Grod  for  it." 

'^Bather  thank  my  folly,"  said  the  King  ;  "for  when  we 
met  on  equal  terms  at  MontFhery,  methinks  you  wished  your- 
self farther  from  me  than  we  are  now." 

The  Duke  still  held  his  hand  on  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  but 
refrained  to  draw  his  weapon,  or  to  strike  a  foe  who  offered 
no  sort  of  resistance  which  could  in  anywise  provoke  vio- 
lence. 

Meanwhile,  wild  and  general  confusion  spread  itself 
through  the  hall.  The  doors  were  now  fastened  and  guarded 
by  order  of  the  Duke  ;  but  several  of  the  French  nobles,  few 
as  they  were  in  number,  started  from  their  seats,  and  pre- 
pared for  the  defense  of  their  sovereign.  Louis  had  spoken 
not  a  word  either  to  Orleans  or  Dunois  since  they  were  lib- 
erated from  restraint  at  the  Castle  of  Loches,  if  it  could  be 
termed  liberation  to  be  dragged  in  King  Louisas  train,  ob- 
jects of  suspicion  evidently  rather  than  of  respect  and  re- 
gard ;  but,  nevertheless,  the  voice  of  Dunois  was  first  heard 
above  the  tumult  addressing  himself  to  the  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy. "  Sir  duke,  you  have  forgotten  that  you  are  a  vas- 
sal of  France,  and  that  we,  your  guests,  are  Frenchmen.  If 
you  lift  a  hand  against  our  monarch,  prepare  to  sustain  the 
utmost  effects  of  our  despair ;  for,  credit  me,  we  shall  feast 
as  high  with  the  blood  of  Burgundy  as  we  have  done  with 
its  wine.     Courage,  my  Lord  of  Orleans ;  and  you,  gentle- 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  817 

men  of  France,  form  yourselves  round  Dunois,  and  do  as  he 
does ! " 

It  was  in  that  moment  when  a  king  might  see  upon  what 
tempers  he  could  certainly  rely.  The  few  independent  no- 
bles and  knights  who  attended  Louis,  most  of  whom  had 
only  received  from  him  frowns  or  discountenance,  unap- 
palled  by  the  display  of  infinitely  superior  force,  and  the  cer- 
tainty of  destruction  in  case  they  came  to  blows,  hastened 
to  array  themselves  around  Dunois,  and,  led  by  him,  to  press 
towards  the  head  of  the  table  where  the  contending  princes 
were  seated. 

On  the  contrary,  the  tools  and  agents  whom  Louis  had 
dragged  forward  out  of  their  fitting  and  natural  places  into 
importance  which  was  not  due  to  them,  showed  cowardice 
and  cold  heart,  and,  remaining  still  in  their  seats,  seemed  re- 
solved not  to  provoke  their  fate  by  intermeddling,  whatever 
might  become  of  their  benefactor. 

The  first  of  the  more  generous  party  was  the  venerable 
Lord  Crawford,  who,  with  an  agility  which  no  one  would 
have  expected  at  his  years,  forced  his  way  through  all  op- 
position, which  was  the  less  violent,  as  many  of  the  Burgun- 
dians,  either  from  a  point  of  honor  or  a  secret  inclination  to 
prevent  Louis's  impending  fate,  gave  way  to  him,  and  threw 
himself  boldly  between  the  King  and  the  Duke.  He  then 
placed  his  bonnet,  from  which  his  white  hair  escaped  in  dis- 
heveled tresses,  upon  one  side  of  his  head  ;  his  pale  cheek 
and  withered  brow  colored,  and  his  aged  eye  lightened  with 
all  the  fire  of  a  gallant  who  is  about  to  dare  some  desperate 
action.  His  cloak  was  flung  over  one  shoulder,  and  his  ac- 
tion intimated  his  readiness  to  wrap  it  about  his  left  arm, 
while  he  unsheathed  his  sword  with  his  right. 

*'  I  have  fought  for  his  father  and  his  grandsire,'' that  was 
all  he  said,  ''  and,  by  St.  Andrew,  end  the  matter  as  it  will, 
I  will  not  fail  him  at  this  pinch.'' 

What  has  taken  some  time  to  narrate  happened,  in  fact, 
with  the  speed  of  light ;  for  so  soon  as  the  Duke  assumed 
his  threatening  posture,  Crawford  had  thrown  himself  be- 
twixt him  and  the  object  of  his  vengeance  ;  and  the  French 
gentlemen,  drawing  together  as  fast  as  they  could,  were 
crowding  to  the  same  point. 

The  Duke  of  Burgundy  still  remained  with  his  hand  on 
his  sword,  and  seemed  in  the  act  of  giving  the  signal  for  a 
general  onset,  which  must  necessarily  have  ended  in  the 
massacre  of  the  weaker  party,  when  Crevecoeur  rushed  for- 
ward and  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  like  a  trumpet,  ''  My  liege 


318  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Lord  of  Burgnndy,  beware  what  you  do  !  This  is  your  hall, 
you  are  the  King's  vassal ;  do  not  spill  the  blood  of  your 
guest  on  your  hearth,  the .  blood  of  your  sovereign  on  the 
throne  you  have  erected  for  him,  and  to  which  he  came  under 
your  safeguard.  For  the  sake  of  your  house's  honor,  do  not 
attempt  to  revenge  one  horrid  murder  by  another  yet  worse  !  " 

''  Out  of  my  road,  Crevecoeur,"  answered  the  Duke,  "  and 
let  my  vengeance  pass  !  Out  of  my  path  !  The  wrath  of 
kings  is  to  be  dreaded  like  that  of  Heaven/' 

*'Only  when,  like  that  of  Heaven,  it  is  /m5^5,"  answered 
Crevecoeur  firmly.  ^'  Let  me  pray  of  you,  my  lord,  to  rein 
the  violence  of  your  temper,  however  justly  offended.  And 
for  yon,  my  lords  of  France,  where  resistance  is  un- 
availing, let  me  recommend  you  to  forbear  whatever  may 
lead  towards  bloodshed." 

'*  He  is  right,"  said  Louis,  whose  coolness  forsook  him 
not  in  that  dreadful  moment,  and  who  easily  foresaw  that 
if  a  brawl  should  commence,  more  violence  would  be  dared 
and  done  in  the  heat  of  blood  than  was  likely  to  be  attempted 
if  peace  were  preserved.  ^'  My  cousin  Orleans — kind  Du- 
i;iois — and  you,  my  trusty  Crawford — bring  not  on  ruin  and 
bloodshed  by  taking  oifense  too  hastily.  Our  cousin  the  Duke 
is  chafed  at  the  tidings  of  the  death  of  a  near  and  loving  friend, 
the  venerable  Bishop  of  Liege,  whose  slaughter  we  lament 
as  he  does,  iincient,  and,  unhappily,  recent  subjects  of 
jealousy  lead  him  to  suspect  us  of  having  abetted  a  crime 
which  our  bosom  abhors.  Should  our  host  murder  us  on 
this  spot — us,  his  king  and  his  kinsman,  under  a  false  impres- 
sion of  our  being  accessory  to  this  unhappy  accident,  our 
fate  will  be  little  lightened,  but,  on  the  contrary,  greatly  ag- 
gravated, by  your  stirring.  Therefore,  stand  back,  Crawford. 
Were  it  my  last  word,  I  speak  as  a  king  to  his  officers,  and 
demand  obedience.  Stand  back,  and,  if  it  is  required,  yield 
up  your  sword.  I  command  you  to  do  so,  and  your  oath 
obliges  you  to  obey." 

'*  True — true,  my  lord,"  said  Crawford,  stepping  back, 
and  returning  to  the  sheath  the  blade  he  had  half  drawn. 
'^It  may  be  all  very  true  ;  but,  by  my  honor,  if  I  were  at 
the  head  of  threescore  and  ten  of  my  brave  fellows,  instead 
of  being  loaded  with  more  than  the  like  number  of  years,  I 
would  try  whether  I  could  have  some  reason  out  of  these 
fine  gallants,  with  their  golden  chains  and  looped-up  bonnets, 
with  braw-warld  dyes  and  devices  on  them." 

The  Duke  stood  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground  for 
a  considerable  space,   and  then   said,   with  bitter  irony. 


QUEMTIN  DUEWAUD  did 

'*  Crevecoeur,  you  say  well  ;  and  it  concerns  our  honor,  that 
our  obligations  to  this  great  king,  our  honored  and  loving 
guest,  be  not  so  hastily  adjusted,  as  in  our  hasty  anger  we 
had  at  first  proposed.  We  will  so  act  that  all  Europe  shall 
acknowledge  the  justice  of  our  proceedings.  Gentlemen  of 
France,  you  must  render  up  your  arms  to  my  officers  !  Your 
master  has  broken  the  truce,  and  has  no  title  to  take  farther 
benefit  of  it.  In  compassion,  however,  to  your  sentiments 
of  honor,  and  in  respect  to  the  rank  which  he  hath 
disgraced  and  the  race  which  he  hath  degenerated,  we 
ask  not  our  cousin  Louis's  sword." 

'^  Not  one  of  us,"  sa^d  Dunois,  *'  will  resign  our  weapon, 
or  quit  this  hall,  unless  we  are  assured  of  at  least  our  king's 
safety,  in  life  and  limb." 

''  Nor  will  a  man  of  the  Scottish  Guard,"  exclaimed 
Crawford,  ''  lay  down  his  arms,  save  at  the  command  of 
the  King  of  France,  or  his  High  Constable." 

'^  Brave  Dunois,"  said  Louis,  ''  and  you,  my  trusty 
Crawford,  your  zeal  will  do  me  injury  instead  of  benefit.  I 
trust,"  he  added,  with  dignity,  ^'  in  my  rightful  cause 
more  than  in  a  vain  resistance,  which  would  but  cost  the 
lives  of  my  best  and  bravest.  Give  up  your  swords  ;  the 
noble  Burgundians  who  accept  such  honorable  pledges  will 
be  more  able  than  you  are  to  protect  both  you  and  me. 
Give  up  your  swords.     It  is  I  who  command  you." 

It  was  thus  that,  in  this  dreadful  emergency,  Louis  showed 
the  promptitude  of  decision  and  clearness  of  judgment 
which  alone  could  have  saved  his  life.  He  was  aware  that 
until  actual  blows  were  exchanged  he  should  have  the  as- 
sistance of  most  of  the  nobles  present  to  moderate  the  fury 
of  their  prince  ;  but  that,  were  a  melee  once  commenced,  he 
himself  and  his  few  adherents  must  be  instantly  murdered. 
At  the  same  time,  his  worst  enemies  confessed  that  his 
demeanor  had  in  it  nothing  either  of  meanness  or  cowardice. 
He  shunned  to  aggravate  into  frenzy  the  wrath  of  the  Duke  ; 
but  he  neither  deprecated  nor  seemed  to  fear  it,  and  con- 
tinued to  look  on  him  with  the  calm  and  fixed  attention 
with  which  a  brave  man  eyes  the  menacing  gestures  of  a 
lunatic,  whilst  conscious  that  his  own  steadiness  and  com- 
posure operate  as  an  insensible  and  powerful  check  on  the 
rage  even  of  insanity. 

Crawford,  at  the  King's  command,  threw  his  sword  to 
Crevecoeur,  saying,  '^Take  it,  and  the  devil  give  you  joy  of 
it !  It  is  no  dishonor  to  the  rightful  owner  who  yields  it, 
for  we  have  had  no  fair  play." 


820  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

^^Hold,  gentlemen,"  said  the  Duke,  in  a  broken  voice,  as 
one  whom  passion  had  almost  deprived  of  utterance,  ^'  retain 
your  swords  ;  it  is  sufficient  you  promise  not  to  use  them. 
And  you,  Louis  of  Valois,  must  regard  yourself  as  my 
prisoner,  until  you  are  cleared  of  having  abetted  sacrilege 
and  murder.  Have  him  to  the  castle.  Have  him  to  Earl 
Herbert's  Tower.  Let  him  have  six  gentlemen  of  his  train 
to  attend  him,  such  as  he  shall  choose.  My  Lord  of  Craw- 
ford, your  guard  must  leave  the  castle,  and  shall  be  honor- 
ably quartered  elsewhere.  Up  with  every  drawbridge,  and 
down  with  every  portcullis.  Let  the  gates  of  the  town  be 
trebly  guarded.  Draw  the  floating-bridge  to  the  right-hand 
side  of  the  river.  Bring  round  the  castle  my  band  of  Black 
Walloons,  and  treble  the  sentinels  on  every  post !  You, 
D'Hymbercourfc,  look  that  patrols  of  horse  and  foot  make 
the  round  of  the  town  every  half  hour  during  the  night, 
and  every  hour  during  the  next  day — if  indeed  such  ward 
shall  be  necessary  after  daybreak,  for  it  is  like  we  may  be 
sudden  in  this  matter.  Look  to  the  person  of  Louis,  as  you 
love  your  life  !  '^ 

He  started  from  the  table  in  fierce  and  moody  haste, 
darted  a  glance  of  mortal  enmity  at  the  King,  and  rushed 
out  of  the  apartment. 

*^  Sirs,"  said  the  King,  looking  with  dignity  around  him, 
'^  grief  for  the  death  of  his  ally  hath  made  your  prince 
frantic.  I  trust  you  know  better  your  duty,  as  knights  and 
noblemen,  than  to  abet  him  in  his  treasonable  violence 
against  the  person  of  his  liege  lord." 

At  this  moment  was  heard  in  the  streets  the  sound  of 
drums  beating  and  horns  blowing,  to  call  out  the  soldiery  in 
every  direction. 

''  We  are,"  said  Cr^vecceur,  who  acted  as  the  marshal  of 
the  Duke's  household,  ^'subjects  of  Burgundy,  and  must  do 
our  duty  as  such.  Our  hopes  and  prayers,  and  our  efforts, 
will  not  be  wanting  to  bring  about  peace  and  union  between 
your  Majesty  and  our  liege  lord.  Meantime,  we  must  obey 
his  commands.  These  other  lords  and  knights  will  be  proud 
to  contribute  to  the  convenience  of  the  illustrious  Duke  of 
Orleans,  of  the  brave  Dunois,  and  the  stout  Lord  Crawford. 
I  myself  must  be  your  Majesty's  chamberlain,  and  bring  you 
to  your  apartments  in  other  guise  than  would  be  my  desire, 
remembering  the  hospitality  of  Plessis.  You  have  only  to 
choose  your  attendants  whom  the  Duke's  commands  limit  to 

*'  Then,"  said  the  King,  looking  around  him,  and  think- 


QUENTIN  BURWABB  821 

ing  for  a  moment,  "I  desire  the  attendance  of  Oliver  le 
Dain,  of  a  private  of  my  Life  Guard,  called  Balaf r^,  who  may 
be  unarmed,  if  you  will,  of  Tristan  THermite,  with  two  of 
his  people,  and  my  right  loval  and  trusty  philosopher, 
Martins  Galeotti/' 

**  Your  Majesty's  will  shall  be  complied  with  in  all  points,^' 
said  the  Count  de  Cr^veccBur.  "  Galeotti/'  he  added,  after 
a  moment's  inquiry,  ''  is,  I  understand,  at  present  supping 
in  some  buxom  company,  but  he  shall  instantly  be  sent  for  ; 
the  others  will  obey  your  Majesty's  command  upon  the  in- 
stant/' 

"  Forward,  then,  to  the  new  abode,  which  the  hospitality 
of  our  cousin  provides  for  us,"  said  the  King.  '*^We  know 
it  is  strong,  and  have  only  to  hope  it  may  be  in  a  correspond- 
ing degree  safe." 

** Heard  you  the  choice  which  King  Louis  has  made  of  his 
attendants  ? "  said  Le  Glorieux  to  Count  Crevecoeur  apart, 
as  they  followed  Louis  from  the  hall. 

"'  Surely,  my  merry  gossip,"  replied  the  count.  "  What 
hast  thou  to  object  to  them  ?  " 

*'  Nothing — nothing,  only  they  are  a  rare  election  !  A 
panderly  barber,  a  Scottish  hired  cut-throat,  a  chief  hang- 
man and  his  two  assistants,  and  a  thieving  charlatan.  I  will 
along  with  you,  Crevecoeur,  and  take  a  lesson  in  the  degrees 
of  roguery,  from  observing  your  skill  in  marshaling  them. 
The  devil  himself  could  scarce  have  summoned  such  a  synod, 
or  have  been  a  better  president  amongst  them." 

Accordingly,  the  all-licensed  jester,  seizing  the  count's 
arm  familiarly,  began  to  march  along  with  him,  while,  under 
a  strong  guard,  yet  forgetting  no  semblance  of  respect,  he 
conducted  the  King  towards  his  new  apartment.* 

*  See  Historical  Epitome.    Note  38. 

ai 


CIHAPTER  XXVIlI 

UNCERTAINTY 

Then  happy  low,  lie  down  ; 
Uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a  crown. 

Henry  IV.,F&rt  11, 

Forty  men-at-arms,  carrying  alternately  naked  swords  and 
blazing  torches,  served  as  the  escort,  or  rather  the  guard,  of 
King  Louis,  from  the  town-hall  of  Peronne  to  the  castle  ; 
and  as  he  entered  within  its  darksome  and  gloomy  strength, 
it  seemed  as  if  a  voice  screamed  in  his  ear  that  warning  which 
the  Florentine  has  inscribed  over  the  portal  of  the  infernal 
regions,  '^  Leave  all  hope  behind  !" 

At  that  moment,  perhaps,  some  feeling  of  remorse  might 
have  crossed  the  King's  mind,  had  he  thought  on  the  hun- 
dreds, nay  thousands,  whom,  without  cause,  or  in  light  sus- 
picion, he  had  committed  to  the  abysses  of  his  dungeons, 
deprived  of  all  hope  of  liberty,  and  loathing  even  the  life  to 
which  they  clung  by  animal  instinct. 

The  broad  glare  of  the  torches  outfacing  the  pale  moon, 
which  was  more  obscured  on  this  than  on  the  former  night, 
and  the  red  smoky  light  which  they  dispersed  around  the 
ancient  buildings,  gave  a  darker  shade  to  that  huge  donjon, 
called  the  Earl  Herbert's  Tower.  It  was  the  same  that  Louis 
had  viewed  with  misgiving  presentiment  on  the  preceding 
evening,  and  of  which  he  was  now  doomed  to  become  an  in- 
habitant, under  the  terror  of  what  violence  soever  the  wrath- 
ful temper  of  his  overgrown  vassal  might  tempt  him  to 
exercise  in  those  secret  recesses  of  despotism. 

To  aggravate  the  King's  painful  feelings,  he  saw,  as  he 
crossed  the  courtyard,  several  bodies,  over  each  of  which  had 
been  hastily  flung  a  military  cloak.  He  was  not  long  of  dis- 
cerning that  they  were  corpses  of  slain  archers  of  the  Scot- 
tish Guard,  who,  having  disputed,  as  the  Count  Crevecoeur 
informed  him,  the  command  given  them  to  quit  the  post 
near  the  King's  apartments,  a  brawl  had  ensued  between 
them  and  the  Duke's  Walloon  bodyguards,  and  before  it 
could  be  composed  by  the  officers  on  either  side,  several  lives 
had  been  lost. 


Q  VENTtN  D  tJR  WAttl)  t^t 

'^  My  trusty  Scots  ! "  said  the  King,  as  he  looked  upon  this 
melancholy  spectacle  ;  ''  had  they  brought  only  man  to  man, 
all  Flanders — ay,  and  Burgundy  to  boot — had  not  furnished 
champions  to  mate  you." 

'^  Yes,  an  it  please  your  Majesty,"  said  Balafre,  who  at- 
tended close  behind  the  King,  '^Maistery  mows  the  meadow  : 
few  men  can  fight  more  than  two  at  once.  I  myself  never 
care  to  meet  three,  unless  it  be  in  the  way  of  special  duty, 
when  one  must  not  stand  to  count  heads." 

**Art  thou  there,  old  acquaintance  ?"  said  the  King,  look- 
ing behind  him  ;  "then  I  have  one  true  subject  with  me 
yet." 

''And  a  faithful  minister,  whether  in  your  councils,  or  in 
his  offices  about  your  royal  person,"  whispered  Oliver  le 
Dain. 

''We  are  all  faithful,"  said  Tristan  I'Hermite,  gruffly, 
"  for  should  they  put  to  death  your  Majesty,  there  is  not 
one  of  us  whom  they  would  suffer  to  survive  you,  even  if  we 
would. " 

"  Now,  that  is  what  I  call  good  corporal  bail  for  fidelity," 
said  Le  Glorieux,  who,  as  already  mentioned,  with  the  rest- 
lessness proper  to  an  infirm  brain,  had  thrust  himself  into 
their  company. 

Meanwhile,  the  seneschal,  hastily  summoned,  was  turning 
with  laborious  effort  the  ponderous  key  which  opened  the  re- 
luctant gate  of  the  huge  Gothic  keep,  and  was  at  last  fain  to 
call  for  the  assistance  of  one  of  Crevecoeur's  attendants. 
"When  they  had  succeeded,  six  men  entered  with  torches,  and 
showed  the  way  through  a  narrow  and  winding  passage,  com- 
manded at  different  points  by  shot-holes  from  vaults  and 
casements  constructed  behind,  and  in  the  thickness  of  the 
massive  walls.  At  the  end  of  this  passage  arose  a  stair  of 
corresponding  rudeness,  consisting  of  huge  blocks  of  stone, 
roughly  dressed  with  the  hammer,  and  of  unequal  height. 
Having  mounted  this  ascent,  a  strong  iron-clenched  door 
admitted  them  to  what  had  been  the  great  hall  of  the  don- 
jon, lighted  but  very  faintly  even  during  the  daytime,  for 
the  apertures,  diminished  in  appearance  by  the  excessive 
thickness  of  the  walls,  resembled  slits  rather  than  windows, 
and  now,  but  for  the  blaze  of  the  torches,  almost  perfectly 
dark.  Two  or  three  bats,  and  other  birds  of  evil  presage, 
roused  by  the  unusual  glare,  flew  against  the  lights  and 
threatened  to  extinguish  them  ;  while  the  seneschal  formally 
apologized  to  the  King  that  the  state-hall  had  not  been  put 
in  order,  such  v/as  the  hurry  of  the  notice  sent  to  him  ;  and 


^4  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

adding,  that,  in  truth,  the  apartment  had  not  been  in  use  for 
twenty  years,  and  rarely  before  that  time,  so  far  as  ever  he 
had  heard,  since  the  time  of  King  Charles  the  Simple. 

'^  King  Charles  the  Simple  ! ''  echoed  Louis  ;  '*  I  know  the 
history  of  the  tower  now.  He  was  here  murdered  by  his 
treacherous  vassal,  Herbert,  Earl  of  Vermandois, — so  say  our 
annals.  I  knew  there  was  something  concerning  the  Castle 
of  Peronne  which  dwelt  on  my  mind,  though  I  could  not 
recall  the  circumstance.  Here,  then,  my  predecessor  was 
slain?'' 

"  Not  here,  not  exactly  here,  and  please  your  Majesty,'' 
said  the  old  seneschal,  stepping  with  the  eager  haste  of  a 
cicerone,  who  shows  the  curiosities  of  such  a  place — "  not 
here,  but  in  the  side-chamber  a  little  onward,  which  opens 
from  your  Majesty's  bedchamber." 

He  hastily  opened  a  wicket  at  the  upper  end  of  the  hall, 
which  led  into  a  bedchamber,  small,  as  is  usual  in  such  old 
buildings,  but,  even  for  that  reason,  rather  more  comfortable 
than  the  waste  hall  through  which  they  had  passed.  Some 
hasty  preparations  had  been  here  made  for  the  King's  accom- 
modation. Arras  had  been  tacked  up,  a  fire  lighted  in  the 
rusty  grate,  which  had  been  long  unused,  and  a  pallet  laid 
down  for  those  gentlemen  who  were  to  pass  the  night  in  his 
chamber,  as  was  then  usual. 

''  We  will  get  beds  in  the  hall  for  the  rest  of  your  attend- 
ants," said  the  garrulous  old  man  ;  ''  but  we  have  had  such 
brief  notice,  if  it  please  your  Majesty.  And  if  it  please  your 
Majesty  to  look  upon  this  little  wicket  behind  the  arras,  it 
opens  into  the  little  old  cabinet  in  the  thickness  of  the  wall 
where  Charles  was  slain,  and  there  is  a  secret  passage  from 
below,  which  admitted  the  men  who  were  to  deal  with  him. 
And  your  Majesty,  whose  eyesight  I  hope  is  better  than  mine, 
may  see  the  blood  still  on  the  oak  floor,  though  the  thing 
was  done  five  hundred  years  ago." 

While  he  thus  spoke,  he  kept  fumbling  to  open  the  postern 
of  which  he  spoke,  until  the  King  said,  ^'  Forbear,  old  man 
— forbear  but  a  little  while,  when  thou  mayst  have  a  newer 
tale  to  tell,  and  fresher  blood  to  show.  My  Lord  of  Creve- 
coeur,  what  say  you  ?  " 

*'  I  can  but  answer,  sire,  that  these  two  interior  apartments 
are  as  much  at  your  Majesty's  disposal  as  those  in  your  own 
castle  at  Plessis,  and  that  Cr^vecoeur,  a  name  never  blackened 
by  treachery  or  assassination,  has  the  guard  of  the  exterior 
defenses  of  it." 

*'  But  the  private  passage  into  that  closet,  of  which  the 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  326 

old  man  speaks!"  This  King  Louis  said  in  a  low  and 
anxious  tone,  holding  Cr^vecoeur's  arm  fast  with  one  hand, 
and  pointing  to  the  wicket  door  with  the  other. 

*'  It  must  be  some  dream  of  Mornay's,"  said  Cr^vecoeur, 
*•'  or  some  old  and  absurd  tradition  of  the  place  ;  but  we  will 
examine." 

He  was  about  to  open  the  closet  door,  when  Louis  answered, 
^'No,  Crevecoeur,  no;  your  honor  is  sufficient  warrant. 
But  what  will  your  duke  do  with  me,  Cr^vecceur  ?  He  can- 
not hope  to  keep  me  long  a  prisoner  ;  and  in  short,  give  me 
your  opinion,  Crevecoeur." 

"  My  lord  and  sire,"  said  the  count,  ''  how  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy  must  resent  this  horrible  cruelty  on  the  person  of 
his  near  relative  and  ally  is  for  your  Majesty  to  judge  ;  and 
what  right  he  may  have  to  consider  it  as  instigated  by  your 
Majesty's  emissaries  you  only  can  know.  But  my  master  is 
noble  in  his  disposition,  and  made  incapable,  even  by  the 
very  strength  of  his  passions,  of  any  underhand  practises. 
Whatever  he  does  will  be  done  in  the  face  of  day  and  of  the 
two  nations.  And  I  can  but  add,  that  it  will  be  the  wish  of 
every  counselor  around  him — excepting  perhaps  one — that 
he  should  behave  in  this  matter  with  mildness  and  generosity, 
as  well  as  justice." 

''Ah!  Crevecoeur,"  said  Louis,  taking  his  hand  as  if 
affected  by  some  painful  recollections,  "  how  happy  is  the 
prince  who  has  counsellors  near  him  who  can  guard  him 
against  the  effects  of  his  own  angry  passions  !  Their  names 
will  be  read  in  golden  letters,  when  the  history  of  his  reign 
is  perused.  Noble  Crevecoeur,  had  it  been  my  lot  to  have 
such  as  thon  art  about  my  person  ! " 

*'  It  had  in  that  case  been  your  Majesty's  study  to  have 
got  rid  of  them  as  fast  as  you  could,"  said  Le  Glorieux. 

"  Aha  1  Sir  Wisdom,  art  thou  there  ?  "  said  Louis,  turning 
round,  and  instantly  changing  the  pathetic  tone  in  which 
he  had  addressed  Crevecoeur,  and  adopting  with  facility  one 
which  had  a  turn  of  a  gaiety  in  it ;  '^  hast  thou  followed  us 
hither  ?"^ 

'^  Ay,  sir,"  answered  Le  Glorieux,  '^  wisdom  must  follow 
in  motley,  where  folly  leads  the  way  in  purple." 

''  How  shall  I  construe  that,  Sir  Solomon,"  answered 
Louis  ;  '^  wouldst  thou  change  conditions  with  me  ?" 

"  Not  I,  by  my  halidome,"  quoth  Le  Glorieux,  '^  if  you 
would  give  me  fifty  crowns  to  boot." 

^  *  Why,  wherefore  so  ?  Methinks  I  could  be  well  enough 
contented,  as  princes  go,  to  have  thee  for  my  king." 


326  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

"  Ay,  sire/'  replied  Le  Glorieiix  ;  '^but  the  question  is, 
whether,  judging  of  your  Majesty's  wit  from  its  having  lodged 
you  here,'  I  should  not  have  cause  to  be  ashamed  of  having 
so  dull  a  fool." 

'*  Peace,  sirrah!"  said  the  Count  of  Crdvecceur  ;  ''your 
tongue  runs  too  fast." 

''  Let  it  take  its  course,"  said  the  King;  *'I  know  of  no 
such  fair  subject  of  raillery  as  the  follies  of  those  who  should 
know  better.  Here,  my  sagacious  friend,  take  this  purse  of 
gold,  and  with  it  the  advice,  never  to  be  so  great  a  fool  as  to 
deem  yourself  wiser  than  other  people.  Prithee,  do  me  so 
much  favor  as  to  inquire  after  my  astrologer,  Martins  Gale- 
otti,  and  send  him  hither  to  me  presently." 

''  I  will,  without  fail,  my  liege,"  answered  the  jester ; 
"  and  I  wot  well  I  shall  find  him  at  Jan  Dopplethur's  ;  for 
philosophers,  as  well  as  fools,  know  where  the  best  wine  is 
sold." 

''  Let  me  pray  for  free  entrance  for  this  learned  person 
through  your  guards,  Seignior  de  Crevecceur,"  said  Louis. 

''  For  his  entrance,  unquestionably,"  answered  the  count ; 
''  but  it  grieves  me  to  add,  that  my  instructions  do  not  au- 
thorize me  to  permit  any  one  to  quit  your  Majesty's  apart- 
ments. I  wish  your  Majesty  a  good-night,"  he  subjoined, 
''  and  will  presently  make  such  arrangements  in  the  outer 
hall  as  may  put  the  gentlemen  who  are  to  inhabit  it  more  at 
their  ease." 

''  Give  yourself  no  trouble  for  them,  sir  count,"  replied 
the  King,  "  they  are  men  accustomed  to  set  hardships  at 
defiance  ;  and,  to  speak  truth,  excepting  that  I  wish  to  see 
Galeotti,  I  would  desire  as  little  further  communication 
from  without  this  night  as  may  be  consistent  with  your 
instructions." 

''These  are,  to  leave  your  Majesty,"  replied  Crdvecoeur, 
"  undisputed  possession  of  your  own  apartments.  Such  are 
my  master's  orders." 

"  Your  master.  Count  Crevecceur,"  answered  Louis, 
"  whom  I  may  also  term  mine,  is  a  right  gracious  master. 
My  dominions,"  he  added,  "  are  somewhat  shrunk  in  com- 
pass, now  that  they  have  dwindled  to  an  old  hall  and  a  bed- 
chamber ;  but  they  are  still  wide  enough  for  all  the  subjects 
which  I  can  at  present  boast  of." 

The  Count  of  Crevecceur  took  his  leave  ;  and  shortly  after, 
they  could  hear  the  noise  of  the  sentinels  moving  to  their 
posts,  accompanied  with  the  word  of  command  from  the 
officers,  and  the  hasty  tread  of  the  guards  who  were  relievedr , 


Q UENTIN  D  UR  WARD  827 

At  length  all  became  still,  and  the  only  sonnd  which  filled 
the  air  was  the  sluggish  murmur  of  the  river  Somme,  as  it 
glided,  deep  and  muddy,  under  the  walls  of  the  castle. 

"  Go  into  the  hall  my  mates,"  said  Louis  to  his  train  ; 
'^  but  do  not  lie  down  to  sleep.  Hold  yourselves  in  readi- 
ness, for  there  is  still  something  to  be  done  to-night,  and 
that  of  moment." 

Oliver  and  Tristan  retired  to  the  hall  accordingly,  in  which 
Le  Balafre  and  the  provost-marshal's  two  officers  had  re- 
mained when  the  others  entered  the  bedchamber.  They 
found  that  those  without  had  thrown  fagots  enough  upon 
the  fire  to  serve  the  purpose  of  light  and  heat  at  the  same 
time,  and,  wrapping  themselves  in  their  cloaks,  had  sat  down 
on  the  floor,  in  postures  which  variously  expressed  the  dis- 
composure and  dejection  of  their  minds.  Oliver  and  Tristan 
saw  nothing  better  to  be  done  than  to  follow  their  example  ; 
and,  never  very  good  friends  in  the  days  of  their  court  pros- 
perity, they  were  both  equally  reluctant  to  repose  confidence 
in  each  other  upon  this  strange  and  sudden  reverse  of  for- 
tune.    So  that  the  whole  party  sat  in  silent  dejection. 

Meanwhile,  their  master  underwent,  in  the  retirement  of 
his  secret  Chamber,  agonies  that  might  have  atoned  for  some 
of  those  which  had  been  imposed  by  his  command.  He 
paced  the  room  with  short  and  unequal  steps,  often  stood 
still  and  clasped  his  hands  together,  and  gave  looce,  in  short, 
to  agitation,  which,  in  public,  he  had  found  himself  able  to 
suppress  so  successfully.  At  length,  pausing,  and  wringing 
his  hands,  he  planted  himself  opposite  to  the  wicket-door, 
which  had  been  pointed  out  by  old  Mornay  as  leading  to  the 
scene  of  the  murder  of  one  of  his  predecessors,  and  gradually 
gave  voice  to  his  feelings  in  a  broken  soliloquy. 

"  Charles  the  Simple — Charles  the  Simple  !  What  will 
posterity  call  the  Eleventh  Louis,  whose  blood  will  probably 
soon  refresh  the  stains  of  thine  ?  Louis  the  Fool — Louis  the 
Driveller — Louis  the  Infatuated — all  are  terms  too  slight  to 
mark  the  extremity  of  my  idiocy  !  To  think  these  hot- 
headed Liegeois,  to  whom  rebellion  is  as  natural  as  their 
food,  would  remain  quiet — to  dream  that  the  Wild  Beast  of 
Ardennes  would,  for  a  moment,  be  interrupted  in  his  career 
of  force  and  bloodthirsty  brutality — to  suppose  that  I  could 
use  reason  and  arguments  to  any  good  purpose  with  Charles 
of  Burgundy,  until  I  had  tried  the  force  of  such  exhortations 
with  success  upon  a  wild  bull !  Fool,  and  double  idiot  that 
I  was  !  But  the  villain  Marti  us  shall  hot  escape.  He  has 
been  at  the  bottom  of  this,  he  and  the  vile  priest,  the  de- 


328  WAV ERLEY  NOVELS 

testable  Balue.*  If  I  ever  get  out  of  this  danger,  I  will  tear 
from  his  head  the  cardinaFs  cap,  though  I  pull  the  scalp 
along  with  it !  But  the  other  traitor  is  in  my  hands :  I  am 
yet  king  enough — have  yet  an  empire  roomy  enough — for 
the  punishment  of  the  quack-salving,  word  mongering,  star- 
gazing, lie-coining  impostor,  who  has  at  once  made  a  prisoner 
and  a  dupe  of  me  !  The  conjunction  of  the  constellations — 
ay,  the  conjunction  !  He  must  talk  nonsense  which  would 
scarce  gull  a  thrice- sodden  sheep's  head,  and  I  must  be  idiot 
enough  to  think  I  understood  him  !  But  we  shall  see  pres- 
ently what  the  conjunction  hath  really  boded.  But  first  let 
me  to  my  devotions." 

Above  the  little  door,  in  memory  perhaps  of  the  deed 
which  had  been  done  within,  was  a  rude  niche,  containing 
a  crucifix  cut  in  stone.  Upon  this  emblem  the  King  fixed  his 
eyes,  as  if  about  to  kneel,  but  stopped  short,  as  if  he  applied 
to  the  blessed  image  the  principles  of  worldly  policy,  and 
deemed  it  rash  to  approach  its  presence  without  having 
secured  the  private  intercession  of  some  supposed  favorite. 
He  therefore  turned  from  the  crucifix  as  unworthy  to  look 
upon  it,  and  selecting  from  the  images  with  which,  as  often 
mentioned,  his  hat  was  completely  garnished,  a  representation 
of  the  Lady  of  Olery,  knelt  down  before  it,  and  made  the  fol- 
lowing extraordinary  prayer,  in  which,  it  is  to  be  observed,  the 
grossness  of  his  superstition  induced  him,  in  some  degree,  to 
consider  the  virgin  of  Clery  as  a  different  person  from  the 
Madonna  of  Embrun,  a  favorite  idol,  to  whom  he  often  paid 
his  vows : 

*'  Sweet  La^y  of  016ry,"  he  exclaimed,  clasping  his  hands 
and  beating  his  breast  while  he  spoke,  *'  blessed  mother  of 
Mercy  !  thou  who  art  omnipotent  with  Omnipotence,  have 
compassion  with  me  a  sinner  !  It  is  true  that  I  have  some- 
thing neglected  thee  for  thy  blessed  sister  of  Embrun  ;  but  I 
an  a  king,  my  power  is  great,  my  wealth  boundless ;  and 
were  it  otherwise,  I  would  double  the  gdbelle  on  my  subjects, 
rather  than  not  pay  my  debts  to  you  both.  Undo  these  iron 
doors — fill  up  these  tremendous  moats — lead  me,  as  a  mother 
leads  a  child,  out  of  this  present  and  pressing  danger  !  If  I 
have  given  thy  sister  the  county  of  Boulogne  to  be  held  of 
her  forever,  have  I  no  means  of  showing  devotion  to  thee 
also  ?  Thou  shalt  have  the  broad  and  rich  province  of 
Champagne ;  and  its  vineyards  shall  pour  their  abundance 
into  thy  convent.  I  had  promised  the  province  to  my  brother 
Charles ;  but  he,  thou  knowest,  is  dead — poisoned  by  that; 

♦  See  Punishment  of  Balue.    Note  39. 


QUENTIN  DURWAUD  9li^ 

wicked  abb6  of  St.  John  d'  Angely,  whom,  if  I  live,  I  will 
punish  !  I  promised  this  once  before,  but  this  time  I  will 
keep  my  word.  If  I  had  any  knowledge  of  the  crime,  believe, 
dearest  patroness,  it  was  because  I  knew  no  better  method  of 
quieting  the  discontents  of  my  kingdom.  0,  do  not  reckon 
that  old  debt  to  my  account  to-day  ;  but  be,  as  thou  hast 
ever  been,  kind,  benignant,  and  easy  to  be  entreated  I 
Sweetest  Lady,  work  with  thy  Child,  that  He  will  pardon 
all  past  sins,  and  one — one  little  deed  which  I  must  do  this 
night ;  nay,  it  is  no  sin,  dearest  Lady  Cl^ry — no  sin,  but  an 
act  of  justice,  privately  administered,  for  the  villain  is  the 
greatest  impostor  that  ever  poured  falsehood  into  a  prince's 
ear,  and  leans  besides  to  the  filthy  heresy  of  the  Greeks. 
He  is  not  deserving  of  thy  protection,  leave  him  to  my  care  ; 
and  hold  it  as  good  service  that  I  rid  the  world  of  him,  for 
the  man  is  a  necromancer  and  wizard,  that  is  not  worth  thy 
thought  and  care — a  dog,  the  extinction  of  whose  life  ought 
to  be  of  as  little  consequence  in  thine  eyes  as  the  treading 
out  a  spark  that  drops  from  a  lamp,  or  springs  from  a  fire. 
Think  not  of  this  little  matter,  gentlest,  kindest  Lady,  but 
only  consider  how  thou  canst  best  aid  me  in  my  troubles  I 
and  I  here  bind  my  royal  signet  to  thy  effigy,  in  token  that 
I  will  keep  my  word  concerning  the  county  of  Champagne, 
and  that  this  shall  be  the  last  time  I  will  trouble  thee  in 
affairs  of  blood,  knowing  thou  art  so  kind,  so  gentle,  and  so 
tender-hearted. '^ 

After  this  extraordinary  contract  with  the  object  of  his 
adoration,  Louis  recited,  apparently  with  deep  devotion,  the 
seven  penitential  psalms  in  Latin,  and  several  aves  and 
prayers  especially  belonging  to  the  service  of  the  Virgin. 
He  then  arose,  satisfied  that  he  had  secured  the  intercession 
of  the  saint  to  whom  he  had  prayed,  the  rather,  as  he 
craftily  reflected,  that  most  of  the  sins  for  which  he  had  re- 
quested her  mediation  on  former  occasions  had  been  of  a 
different  character,  and  that,  therefore,  the  Lady  of  Clery 
was  less  likely  to  consider  him  as  a  hardened  and  habitual 
shedder  of  blood,  than  the  other  saints  whom  he  had  more 
frequently  made  confidents  of  his  crimes  in  that  respect.* 

When  he  had  thus  cleared  his  conscience,  or  rather  whited 
it  over  like  a  sepulcher,  the  King  thrust  his  head  out  at  the 
door  of  the  hall,  and  summoned  Le  Balafre  into  his  apart- 
ment. "  My  good  soldier,^'  he  said,  ''  thou  hast  served  me 
long,  and  hast  had  little  promotion.  We  are  here  in  a  case 
where  I  may  either  live  or  die  ;  but  I  would  not  willingly 
♦  See  Prayer  of  Louis  XI.    Note  40. 


330  WArEBLi:r  nov:e:l8 

die  an  ungrateful  man,  or  leave,  so  far  as  the  saints  may  place 
it  in  my  power,  either  a  friend  or  an  enemy  unrecompensed. 
Now,  I  have  a  friend  to  be  rewarded,  that  is  thyself — an 
enemy  to  be  punished  according  to  his  deserts,  and  that  is 
the  base,  treacherous  villain,  Martins  Galeotti,  who,  by  his 
impostures  and  specious  falsehoods,  has  trained  me  hither 
into  the  power  of  my  mortal  enemy,  with  as  firm  a  purpose 
of  my  destruction  as  ever  butcher  had  of  slaying  the  beast 
which  he  drove  to  the  shambles/^ 

"  I  will  challenge  him  on  that  quarrel,  since  they  say  he 
is  a  fighting  blade,  although  he  looks  somewhat  unwieldy,'^ 
said  Le  Balafre.  ^'  I  doubt  not  but  the  Duke  of  Burgundy 
is  so  much  a  friend  to  men  of  the  sword,  that  he  will  allow 
us  a  fair  field  within  some  reasonable  space  ;  and  if  your 
Majesty  live  so  long,  and  enjoy  so  much  freedom,  you  shall 
behold  me  do  battle  in  your  -right,  and  take  as  proper  a 
vengeance  on  this  philosopher  as  your  heart  could  desire/' 

"  I  commend  your  bravery  and  your  devotion  to  my 
service,'^  said  the  King.  *'  But  this  treacherous  villain  is  a 
stout  man-at-arms,  and  I  would  not  willingly  risk  thy  life, 
my  brave  soldier." 

"  I  were  no  brave  soldier,  if  it  please  your  Majesty,"  said 
Balafr§,  '^  if  I  dare  not  face  a  better  man  than  he.  A  fine 
thing  it  would  be  for  me,  who  can  neither  read  nor  write,  to 
be  afraid  of  a  fat  lurdane,  who  has  done  little  else  all  his 
life!^' 

''  Nevertheless,''  said  the  King,  '^  it  is  not  our  pleasure  so 
to  put  thee  in  venture,  Balafre.  This  traitor  comes  hither, 
summoned  by  our  command.  We  would  have  thee,  so  soon 
as  thou  canst  find  occasion,  close  up  with  him,  and  smite 
him  under  the  fifth  rib.     Dost  thou  understand  me  ?  " 

"  Truly  I  do,''  answered  Le  Balafre  ;  "  but,  if  it  please 
your  Majesty,  this  is  a  matter  entirely  out  of  my  course  of 
practise.  I  could  not  kill  you  a  dog,  unless  it  were  in  hot 
assault,  or  pursuit,  or  upon  defiance  given,  or  such  like." 

'*  Why  sure  thou  dost  not  pretend  to  tenderness  of  heart  ?" 
said  the  King ;  "  thou  who  hast  been  first  in  storm  and 
siege,  and  most  eager,  as  men  tell  me,  on  the  pleasures  and 
advantages  which  are  gained  on  such  occasions  by  the  rough 
heart  and  the  bloody  hand  ?  " 

*'  My  lord,"  answered  Le  Balafr^,  ^'  I  have  neither  feared 
nor  spared  your  enemies,  sword  in  hand.  And  an  assault  is 
a  desperate  matter,  under  risks  which  raise  a  man's  blood  so, 
that,  by  St.  Andrew,  it  will  not  settle  for  an  hour  or  two, 
which  1  call  a  fair  license  for  plundering  after  a  storm.     And 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  331 

God  pity  us  poor  soldiers,  who  are  first  driven  mad  with 
danger,  and  then  madder  with  victory.  I  have  heard  of  a 
legion  consisting  entirely  of  saints  ;  and  methinks  it  would 
take  them  all  to  pray  and  intercede  for  the  rest  of  the  army, 
and  for  all  who  wear  plumes  and  corslets,  buff-coats  and 
broadswords.  But  what  your  Majesty  purposes  is  out  of 
my  course  of  practise,  though  I  will  never  deny  that  it  has 
been  wide  enough.  As  for  the  astrologer,  if  he  be  a  traitor, 
let  him  e'en  die  a  traitor's  death.  I  will  neither  meddle  nor 
make  with  it.  Your  Majesty  has  your  provost  and  two  of 
his  marshalVmen  without,  who  are  more  fit  for  dealing  with 
him  than  a  Scottish  gentleman  of  my  family  and  standing 
in  the  service." 

''  You  say  well,"  said  the  King  ;  ''  but,  at  least,  it  belongs 
to  thy  duty  to  prevent  interruption,  and  to  guard  the  execu- 
tion of  my  most  just  sentence." 

'^I  will  do  so  against  all  Peronne,"  said  Le  Balafre. 
"Your  Majesty  need  not  doubt  my  fealty  in  that  which  I 
can  reconcile  to  my  conscience,  which,  for  mine  own  con- 
venience and  the  service  of  your  royal  Majesty,  I  can  vouch 
to  be  a  pretty  large  one — at  least,  I  know  I  have  done  some 
deeds  for  your  Majesty,  which  I  would  rather  have  eaten  a 
handful  of  my  own  dagger  than  I  would  have  done  for  any 
else." 

"  Let  that  rest,"  said  the  King  ;  "  and  hear  you  ;  when 
Galeotti  is  admitted,  and  the  door  shut  on  him,  do  you 
stand  to  your  weapon,  and  guard  the  entrance  on  the  inside 
of  the  apartment.  Let  no  one  intrude  ;  that  is  all  I  require 
of  you.     Go  hence,  and  send  the  provost-marshal  to  me." 

Balafre  left  the  apartment  accordingly,  and  in  a  minute 
afterwards  Tristan  FHermite  entered  from  the  hall. 

"Welcome,  gossip,"  said  the  King  ;  "what  thinkest  thou 
of  our  situation  ?  " 

"  As  of  men  sentenced  to  death,"  said  the  provost-marshal, 
"  unless  there  3ome  a  reprieve  from  the  Duke." 

"  Reprieved  or  not,  he  that  decoyed  us  into  this  snare 
shall  go  OUT  fourrier  to  the  next  world,  to  take  up  lodgings 
for  us,"  said  the  King,  with  a  grisly  and  ferocious  smile. 
"Tristan,  thou  hast  done  many  an  act  of  brave  justice: 
finis — I  should  have  said  funis — coronat  opus.  Thou  must 
stand  by  me  to  the  end." 

"  I  will,  my  liege,"  said  Tristan  ;  "  I  am  but  a  plain  fellow, 
but  I  am  grateful.  I  will  do  my  duty  within  these  walls,  or 
elsewhere  ;  and  while  I  live,  your  Majesty's  breath  shall  pour 
as  potential  a  note  of  condemnation,  and  your  sentence  be 


332  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

as  literally  executed,  as  when  you  sat  on  your  own  throne. 
They  may  deal  with  me  the  next  hour  for  it  if  they  will,  I 
care  not/' 

'^  It  is  even  what  I  expected  of  thee,  my  loving  gossip,'* 
said  Louis  ;  ^*  but  hast  thou  good  assistance  ?  The  traitor  is 
strong  and  able-bodied,  and  will  doubtless  be  clamorous  for 
aid.  The  Scot  will  do  nought  but  keep  the  door  ;  and  well 
that  he  can  be  brought  to  that  by  flattery  and  humoring. 
Then  Oliver  is  good  for  nothing  but  lying,  flattering,  and 
suggesting  dangerous  counsels;  and.  Ventre  Saint-Dieu! 
I  think  is  more  like  one  day  to  deserve  the  halter  himself 
than  to  use  it  to  another.  Have  you  men,  think  you,  and 
means,  to  make  sharp  and  sure  work  ?  " 

"  I  have  Trois-Eschelles  and  Petit  Andre  with  me,''  said 
he  ;  '*  men  so  expert  in  their  office  that  out  of  three  men 
they  would  hang  up  one  ere  his  two  companions  were  aware. 
And  we  have  all  resolved  to  live  or  die  with  your  Majesty, 
knowing  we  shall  have  as  short  breath  to  draw  when  you  are 
gone  as  ever  fell  to  the  lot  of  any  of  our  patients.  But  what 
is  to  be  our  present  subject,  an  it  please  your  Majesty  ?  I 
love  to  be  sure  of  my  man  :  for,  as  your  Majesty  is  pleased 
sometimes  to  remind  me,  I  have  now  and  then  mistaken  the 
criminal,  and  strung  up  in  his  place  an  honest  laborer,  who 
had  given  your  Majesty  no  offense." 

*'  Most  true,"  said  the  other.  ''  Know  then,  Tristan,  that 
the  condemned  person  is  Martins  Galeotti.  You  start,  but 
it  is  even  as  I  say.  The  villain  has  trained  us  all  hither  by 
false  and  treacherous  representations,  that  he  might  put  us 
into  the  hands  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  without  defense." 

^'But  not  without  vengeance  !"  said  Tristan;  ^'^were  it 
the  last  act  of  my  life,  I  would  sting  him  home  like  an  ex- 
piring wasp,  should  I  be  crushed  to  pieces  on  the  next 
instant !" 

*^  I  know  thy  trusty  spirit,"  said  the  King,  *'  and  the 
pleasure  which,  like  other  good  men,  thou  dost  find  in 
the  discharge  of  thy  duty,  since  virtue,  as  the  schoolmen 
say,  is  its  own  reward.  But  away,  and  prepare  the  priests, 
for  the  victim  approaches." 

'*  Would  you  have  it  done  in  your  own  presence,  my 
gracious  liege  ?  "  said  Tristan. 

Louis  declined  this  offer  ;  but  charged  the  provost-marshal 
to  have  everything  ready  for  the  punctual  execution  of  his 
commands  the  moment  the  astrologer  left  his  apartment ; 
"  For,"  said  the  King,  "  I  will  see  the  villain  once  more,  just 
to  observe  how  he  bears  himself  towards  the  master  whonj 


534  WAVEULEY  NOVELS 

The  provost-marshal  left  the  apartment  of  Louis,  and  sum- 
moned his  two  assistants  to  council  in  an  embrasure  in  the 
great  hall,  where  Trois-Eschelles  stuck  a  torch  against  the 
wall  to  give  them  light.  They  discoursed  in  whispers  little 
noticed  by  Oliver  le  Dain,  who  seemed  sunk  in  dejection,  and 
Le  Balafr^,  who  was  fast  asleep. 

'*  Comrades,'*  said  the  provost  to  his  executioners,  "perhaps 
you  have  thought  that  out  vocation  was  over,  or  that  at 
least,  we  were  more  likely  to  be  the  subjects  of  the  duty  of 
others  than  to  have  any  more  to  discharge  on  our  own  parts. 
But  courage,  my  mates  !  our  gracious  master  reserved  for 
us  one  noble  cast  of  our  office,  and  it  must  be  gallantly  exe- 
cuted as  by  men  who  would  live  in  history.^' 

*'  Ay,  I  guess  how  it  is,'*  said  Trois-Eschelles ;  "  our 
patron  is  like  the  old  kaisers  of  Kome,  who  when  things 
came  to  an  extremity,  or,  as  we  would  say,  to  the  ladder-foot 
with  them,  were  wont  to  select  from  their  own  ministers  of 
justice  some  experienced  person,  who  might  spare  their  sacred 
persons  from  the  awkward  attempts  of  a  novice  or  blunderer 
m  our  mystery.  It  was  a  pretty  custom  for  ethnics  ;  but, 
as  a  good  Catholic,  I  should  make  some  scruple  at  laying 
hands  on  the  Most  Christian  King." 

''  Nay,  but  brother,  you  are  ever  too  scrupulous,'*  said 
Petit- Andre.  ^'  If  he  issues  word  and  warrant  for  his  own 
execution,  I  see  not  how  we  can  in  duty  dispute  it.  He  that 
dwells  at  Eome  must  obey  the  Pope  :  the  marshal's-men  must 
do  their  master's  bidding,  and  he  the  King's.  " 

*'  Hush,  your  knaves  !  "  said  the  provost-marshal,  ^'  there 
is  here  no  purpose  concerning  the  King's  person,  but  only 
that  of  the  Greek  heretic  pagan  and  Mohammedan  wizard, 
Martins  Galeotti." 

"  Galeotti  !"  ansv^rered  Petit- Andre  ;  "  that  comes  quite 
natural.  I  never  knew  one  of  these  legerdemain  fellows, 
who  pass  their  life,  as  one  may  say,  in  dancing  upon  a  tight- 
rope, but  what  they  came  at  length  to  caper  at  the  end  of 
one — tchick  ! " 

"  My  only  concern  is,"  said  Trois-Eschelles,  looking  up- 
wards, ''that  the  poor  creature  must  die  without  confes- 
sion." 

"Tush  I  tush  !"  said  the  provost-marshal,  in  reply,  "  he 
is  a  rank  heretic  and  necromancer  :  a  whole  college  of  priests 
could  not  absolve  him  from  the  doom  he  has  deserved.  Besides- 
if  he  hath  a  fancy  that  way,  thou  hast  a  gift,  Trois-Eschel- 
les, to  serve  him  for  ghostly  father  thyself.  But,  what  is 
more  material,  I  fear  you  must  use  your  poniards,  my  mates ; 


Q UEN TIN  DURWARD  335 

for  you  have  not  here  the  fitting  conveniences  for  the  exer- 
cise of  your  prof  ession/' 

''  Now,  our  Lady  of  the  Isle  of  Paris  forbid,"  said  Trois- 
Eschelles,  *'that  the  king^s  command  should  find  me  desti- 
tute of  my  tools  !  I  always  wear  around  my  body  St. 
Francis's  cord,  doubled  four  times,  with  a  handsome  loop  at 
the  further  end  of  it ;  for  I  am  of  the  company  of  St. 
Francis,  and  may  wear  his  cowl  when  I  am  i7i  extremis,  I 
thank  God  and  the  good  fathers  of  Saumur.'* 

'^  And  for  me,'*  said  Petit- Andr6,  *'  I  have  always  in  my 
budget  a  handy  block  and  sheaf,  or  a  pully  as  they  call  it, 
with  a  strong  screw  for  securing  it  where  I  list  in  case  we 
should  travel  where  trees  are  scarce,  or  high  branched  from 
the  ground.     I  have  found  it  a  great  convenience.''' 

*'  That  will  suit  as  well,''  said  the  provost-marshal ;  '*  you 
have  but  to  screw  your  pulley  into  yonder  beam  above  the  door 
and  pass  the  rope  over  it.  I  will  keep  the  fellow  in  some 
conversation  near  the  spot  until  you  adjust  the  noose  under 
his  chin,  and  then " 

''  And  then  we  run  up  the  rope,"  said  Petit- Andre  ''  and, 
tchick  !  our  astrologer  is  so  far  in  Heaven  that  he  hath  not 
a  foot  on  earth." 

*^  But,  these  gentlemen,"  said  Trois-Eschelles,  looking 
torwards  the  chimney,  ^'  do  not  these  help,  and  so  take  a 
hansel  of  our  vocation  ?  " 

"  Hem  !  no,"  answered  the  provost ;  *'  the  barber  only 
contrives  mischief,  which  he  leaves  other  men  to  execute  ; 
and  for  the  Scot,  he  keeps  the  door  when  the  deed  is  a 
doing,  which  he  hath  not  spirit  or  quickness  sufficient 
to  partake  in  more  actively  ;  every  one  to  his  trade." 

With  infinite  dexterity,  and  even  a  sort  of  professional  de- 
light which  sweetened  the  sense  of  their  own  precarious 
situation,  the  worthy  executioners  of  the  provost's  mandates 
adapted  their  rope  and  pulley  for  putting  in  force  the  sen- 
tence which  had  been  uttered  against  Galeotti  by  the  captive 
monarch,  seeming  to  rejoice  that  last  action  was  to  be  one 
consistent  with  their  past  life.  Tristan  I'Hermite  *  sat  eye- 
ing their  proceedings  with  a  species  of  satisfaction  ;  while 
Oliver  paid  no  attention  to  them  whatever ;  and  Ludovic 
Lesly,  if,  awakened  by  the  bustle,  he  looked  upon  them  at 
all,  considered  them  as  engaged  in  matters  entirely  uncon- 
nected with  his  own  duty,  and  for  which  he  was  not  to  be 
regarded  as  responsible  in  one  way  or  other. 

♦  Bee  Note  42. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

BECRIMINATION 

Thy  time  is  not  yet  out :  the  devil  thou  servest 

Has  not  as  yet  deserted  thee.     He  aids 

The  friends  who  drudge  for  him,  as  the  blind  man 

Was  aided  by  the  guide,  who  lent  his  shoulder 

O'er  rough  and  smooth,  until  he  reached  the  brink 

Of  the  fell  precipice,  then  hurl'd  him  downward. 

Old  Play. 

When"  obejring  the  command,  or  rather  the  request,  of  Louis^ 
for  he  was  in  circumstances  in  which,  though  a  monarch,  he 
could  only  request  Le  Glorieux  to  go  in  search  of  Martins 
Galeotti,  the  jester  had  no  trouble  in  executing  his  com- 
mission, betaKing  himself  at  once  to  the  best  tavern  in 
Peronne,  of  which  he  himself  was  rather  more  than  an 
occasional  frequenter,  being  a  great  admirer  of  that  species 
of  liquor  which  reduced  all  other  men^s  brains  to  a  level  with 
his  own. 

He  found,  or  rather  observed,  the  astrologer  in  the  corner 
of  the  public  drinking-room — "  stove,^^  as  it  is  called  in 
German  and  Flemish,  from  its  principal  furniture — sitting 
in  close  colloquy  with  a  female  in  a  singular,  and  something 
like  a  Moorish  or  Asiatic,  garb,  who,  as  Le  Glorieux  ap- 
proached Martius,  rose  as  in  the  act  to  depart. 

**  These,^'  said  the  stranger,  '*  are  news  on  which  yon  may 
rely  with  absolute  certainty " ;  and  with  that  disappeared 
among  the  crowd  of  guests  who  sat  grouped  at  different 
tables  in  the  apartment. 

''Cousin  philosopher,''  said  the  jester,  presenting  himself, 
*'  Heaven  no  sooner  relieves  one  sentinel  than  it  sends 
another  to  supply  the  place.  One  fool  being  gone,  here  I 
come  another,  to  guide  you  to  the  apartments  of  Louis  of 
France." 

**  And  art  thou  the  messenger  ?"  said  Martius,  gazing  on 
him  with  prompt  apprehension,  and  discovering  at  once  the 
jester's  quality,  though  less  intimated,  as  we  have  before 
noticed,  than  was  usufJ  by  his  external  appearance. 

^*  Ay,  sir,  and  like  your  learning,"  answered  Le  Glorieux  ; 


qUBNTlN  DURWABD  337 

"  when  power  sends  folly  to  entreat  the  approach  of  wisdom, 
'tis  a  sure  sign  what  foot  the  patient  halts  upon," 

"  How  if  I  refuse  to  come,  when  summoned  at  so  late  an 
hour  by  such  a  messenger  ?''  said  Galeotti. 

"  In'that  case  we  will  consult  your  ease,  and  carry  you," 
said  Le  Glorieux.  "Here  are  half  a  score  of  stout  Burgun- 
dian  yeomen  at  the  door,  with  whom  he  of  Cr^vecoBur  has 
furnished  me  to  that  effect.  For  know  that  my  friend 
Charles  of  Burgundy  and  I  have  not  taken  away  our  kinsman 
Louis's  crown,  which  he  was  ass  enough  to  put  into  our 
power,  but  have  only  filed  and  dipt  it  a  little ;  and,  though 
reduced  to  the  size  of  a  spangle,  it  is  still  pnre  gold.  In 
plain  terms,  he  is  still  paramount  over  his  own  people,  your- 
self included,  and  Most  Christian  King  of  the  old  dining- 
hall  in  the  Castle  of  P6ronne,  to  which  you,  as  his  liege  sub- 
ject, are  presently  obliged  to  repair." 

"I  attend  you,  sir,  said  Martins  Galeotti,  and  accom- 
panied Ijc  Glorieux  accordingly,  seeing,  perhaps,  that  no 
evasion  was  possible. 

"Ay,  sir,  said  the  fool  as  they  went  towards  the  castle, 
"you  do  well ;  for  we  treat  our  kinsman  as  men  use  an  old 
famished  lion  in  his  cage,  and  thmst  him  now  and  then  a 
calf  to  mumble,  to  keep  his  old  jaws  in  exercise." 

"Do  you  mean,"  said  Martins,  "that  the  King  intends 
me  bodily  injury  ?" 

"  Nay,  that  you  can  guess  better  than  I,"  said  the  jester ; 
"  for  though  the  night  be  cloudy,  I  warrant  you  can  see  the 
stars  through  the  mist.  I  know  nothing  of  the  matter, 
not  I ;  only  my  mother  always  told  me  to  go  warily  near 
an  old  rat  in  a  trap,  for  he  was  never  so  much  disposed  to 
bite," 

The  astrologer  asked  no  more  questions ;  and  Le  Glorieux 
according  to  the  custom  of  those  of  his  class,  continued  to 
run  on  in  a  wild  and  disordered  strain  of  sarcasm  and  folly 
mingled  together,  until  he  delivered  the  philosopher  to  the 
guard  at  the  castle  gate  of  P6ronne,  where  he  was  passed 
from  warder  to  waSder,  and  at  length  admitted  within 
Herbert's  Tower. 

The  hints  of  the  jester  had  not  been  lost  on  Martins 
Galeotti,  and  he  saw  something  which  seemed  to  confirm 
them  in  the  look  and  manner  of  Tristan,  whose  mode  of  ad- 
dressing him,  as  he  marshaled  him  to  the  King's  bedchamber, 
was  lowering,  sullen,  and  ominous.  A  close  observer  of  what 
passed  on  earth,  as  well  as  among  the  heavenly  bodies,  the 
pulley  and  the  rope  also  caught  the  astrologer's  eye ;  and  aa 
ta 


^38  W'A  VERLET  NOVELS 

the  latter  was  in  a  state  of  vibration,  he  conchided  that  some 
one  who  had  been  busy  adjusting  it  had  been  interrupted 
in  the  work  by  his  sudden  arrival.  All  this  he  saw,  and 
summoned  together  his  subtilty  to  evade  the  impending 
danger,  resolved,  should  he  find  that  impossible,  to  defend 
himself  to  the  last  against  whomsoever  should  assail  him. 

Thus  resolved,  and  with  a  step  and  look  corresponding 
to  the  determination  he  had  taken,  Martius  presented  him- 
self before  Louis,  alike  unabashed  at  the  miscarriage  of  his 
predictions,  and  undismayed  at  the  monarch's  anger  and  its 
probable  consequences. 

'^  Every  good  planet  be  gracious  to  your  Majesty  !  '*  said 
Galeotti,  with  an  inclination  almost  Oriental  in  manner. 
*'  Every  evil  constellation  withhold  their  influences  from  my 
royal  master  !  '* 

"Methinks,"  replied  the  King,  "that  when  you  look 
around  this  apartment,  when  you  think  where  it  is  situated, 
and  how  guarded,  your  wisdom  might  consider  that  my  pro- 
pitious stars  had  proved  faithless,  and  that  each  evil  con- 
junction had  already  done  its  worst.  Art  thou  not  ashamed, 
Martius  Galeotti,  to  see  me  here  and  a  prisoner,  when  you 
recollect  by  what  assurances  I  was  lured  hither  ?'* 

'^  And  art  thou  not  ashamed,  my  royal  sire  ?  '*  replied  the 
philosopher,  "thou  whose  step  in  science  was  so  forward,  thy 
apprehension  so  quick,  thy  perseverance  so  unceasing, — art 
thou  not  ashamed  to  turn  from  the  first  frown  of  fortune, 
like  a  craven  from  the  first  clash  of  arms  ?  Didst  thou  pro- 
pose to  become  participant  of  those  mysteries  which  raise 
men  above  the  passions,  the  mischances,  the  pains,  tlie  sor- 
rows of  life,  a  state  only  to  be  attained  by  rivaling  the  firm- 
ness of  the  ancient  Stoic  ;  and  dost  thou  shrink  from  the 
first  pressure  of  adversity,  and  forfeit  the  glorious  prize  for 
which  thou  didst  start  as  a  competitor,  frightened  out  of  the 
course,  like  a  scared  racer,  by  shadowy  and  unreal  evils  ?  " 

"  Shadowy  and  unreal  !  frontless  as  thou  art  I  "  exclaimed 
the  King,  "  is  this  dungeon  unreal  ?  the  weapons  of  the 
guards  of  my  detested  enemy  Burgundy,  which  you  may  hear 
clash  at  the  gate,  are  those  shadows  ?  What,  traitor,  are 
real  evils,  if  imprisonment,  dethronement,  and  danger  of  life 
are  not  so  ?  " 

**  Ignorance — ignorance,  my  brother,  and  prejudice,"  an- 
swered the  sage  with  great  firmness,  "  are  the  only  real  evils. 
Believe  me,  that  kings  in  the  plenitude  of  power,  if  immersed 
in  ignorance  and  prejudice,  are  less  free  than  sages  in  a  dun- 
geon and  loaded  with  material  chains.     Towards  this  true 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  839 

happiness  it  is  mine  to  guide  you  ;    be  it  yours  to  attend  to 
my  instructions." 

"And  it  is  to  such  philosophical  freedom  that  your  lessons 
would  have  guided  me  ?"  said  the  King,  very  bitterly.  "I 
would  you  had  told  me  at  Plessis  that  the  dominion  promised 
me  so  liberally  was  an  empire  over  my  own  passions  ;  that 
the  success  of  which  I  was  assured  related  to  my  prog- 
ress in  philosophy ;  and  that  I  might  become  as  wise  and 
OS  learned  as  a  strolling  mountebank  of  Italy  ?  I  might 
surely  have  attained  this  mental  ascendency  at  a  more  moder- 
ate price  than  that  of  forfeiting  the  fairest  crown  in  Chris- 
tendom and  becoming  tenant  of  a  dungeon  in  Peronne  !  Go, 
sir,  and  think  not  to  escape  condign  punishment.  There  is 
a  Heaven  above  us  I  " 

"  I  leave  you  not  to  your  fate,"  replied  Martins,  '^  until  I 
nave  vindicated,  even  in  your  eyes,  darkened  as  they  are, 
chat  reputation,  a  brighter  gem  than  the  brightest  in*  thy 
-jrown,  and  at  which  the  world  shall  wonder  ages  after  all  the 
j'ace  of  Capet  are  mouldered  into  oblivion  in  the  charnels  of 
Ht.  Denis." 

'*  Speak  on,"  said  Louis  ;  "thine  impudence  cannot  make 
me  change  my  purposes  or  my  opinion.  Yet  as  I  may  never 
again  pass  judgment  as  a  king,  I  will  not  censure  thee  un- 
heard. Speak,  then,  though  the  best  thou  canst  say  will  be 
to  speak  the  truth.  Confess  that  I  am  a  dupe,  thou  an  im- 
postor, thy  pretended  science  a  dream,  and  the  planets  which 
shine  above  us  as  little  influential  of  our  destiny  as  their 
shadows,  when  reflected  in  the  river,  are  capable  of  altering 
its  course." 

"  And  how  know'st  thou,"  answered  the  astrologer,  boldly, 
"  the  secret  influence  of  yonder  blessed  lights  ?  Speak^st 
thou  of  their  inability  to  influence  waters,  when  yet  thou 
know^st  that  even  the  weakest,  the  moon  herself, — weakest 
because  nearest  to  this  wretched  earth  of  ours, — holds  under 
her  domination,  not  such  poor  streams  as  the  Somme,  but 
the  tides  of  the  mighty  ocean  itself,  which  ebb  and  increase 
as  her  disk  waxes  and  wanes,  and  watch  her  influenco  as  a 
slave  waits  the  nod  of  a  sultana  ?  And  now,  Louis  of  Valois, 
answer  my  parable  in  turn.  Confess,  art  thou  not  like  the 
foolish  passenger,  who  becomes  wroth  with  his  pilot  because 
he  cannot  bring  the  vessel  into  harbor  without  experiencing 
occasionally  the  adverse  force  of  winds  and  currents  ?  I 
could  indeed  point  to  thee  the  probable  issue  of  thine  enter- 
prise as  prosperous,  but  it  was  in  the  power  of  Heaven  alone 
to  conduct  thee  thither  ;   and  if  the  path  be  rough  and  dan- 


840  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

gerous,  was  it  in  my  power  to  smooth  or  render  it  more  safe  ? 
Where  is  thy  wisdom  of  yesterday,  which  tanght  thee  so  truly 
to  discern  that  the  ways  of  destiny  are  often  ruled  to  our 
advantage,  though  in  opposition  to  our  .vishes  ?  '* 

**  You  remind  me — you  remind  me,"  said  the  King,  hast- 
ily, *'  of  one  specific  falsehood.  You  foretold  yonder  Scot 
should  accomplish  his  enterprise  fortunately  for  my  interest 
and  honor  ;  and  thou  knowest  it  has  so  terminated  that  no 
more  mortal  injury  could  I  have  received  than  from  the  im- 
pression which  the  issue  of  that  affair  is  like  to  make  on  the 
excited  brain  of  the  Mad  Bull  of  Burgundy.  This  is  a  di- 
rect falsehood.  Thou  canst  plead  no  evasion  here,  canst 
refer  to  no  remote  favorable  turn  of  the  tide,  for  which,  like 
an  idiot  sitting  on  the  bank  until  the  river  shall  pass  away, 
thou  wouldst  have  me  wait  contentedly.  Here  thy  craft 
deceived  thee.  Thou  wert  weak  enough  to  make  a  specific 
prediction,  which  has  proved  directly  false.'' 

''Which  will  prove  most  firm  and  true,"  answered  the 
astrologer,  boldly.  '*  I  would  desire  no  greater  triumph  of 
art  over  ignorance  than  that  prediction  and  its  accomplish- 
ment will  afford.  I  told  thee  he  would  be  faithful  in  any 
honorable  commission.  Hath  he  not  been  so  ?  I  told  thee 
he  would  be  scrupulous  in  aiding  any  evil  enterprise.  Hath 
he  not  proved  so  ?  If  you  doubt  it,  go  ask  the  Bohemian, 
Hayraddin  Maugrabin.'' 

The  King  here  colored  deeply  with  shame  and  anger. 

'*  I  told  thee,"  continued  the  astrologer,  *'  that  the  con- 
junction of  planets  under  which  he  set  forth  augured  dan- 
ger to  the  person  ;  and  hath  not  his  path  been  beset  by 
danger  ?  I  told  thee  that  it  augured  an  advantage  to  the 
sender,  and  of  that  thou  wilt  soon  have  the  benefit." 

"  Soon  have  the  benefit ! "  exclaimed  the  King  ;  '*  have  I 
not  the  result  already,  in  disgrace  and  imprisonment  ?" 

**  No,"  answered  the  astrologer,  "  the  end  is  not  as  yet ; 
thine  own  tongue  shall  ere  long  confess  the  benefit  which 
thou  hast  received,  from  the  manner  in  which  the  messen- 
ger bore  himself  in  discharging  thy  commission." 

'*  This  is  too — too  insolent,"  said  the  King,  "at  once  to 

deceive  and  to  insult But  hence  !  think  not  my  wrongs 

shall  be  unavenged.     There  is  a  Heaven  above  us  !  " 

Galeotti  turned  to  depart.  ''  Yet  stop,"  said  Louis ; 
**  thou  bearest  thine  imposture  bravely  out.  Let  me  hear 
your  answer  to  one  question,  and  think  ere  you  speak.  Can 
thy  pretended  skill  ascertain  the  hour  of  thine  own  death?' 

*'  Only  by  referring  to  the  fate  of  another,"  said  Galeotti 


I 


qUENTIN  nURWABD  841 

*'  I  understand  not  thine  answer,"  said  Louis. 

''  Know  then,  0  king,"  said  Martins,  *^  that  this  only  T 
can  tell  with  certainty  concerning  mine  own  death,  that  in 
shall  take  place  exhctly  twenty-four  hours  before  that  ol 
your  Majesty."* 

"Ha!  say'st  thou  ?"  said  Louis,  his  countenance  again 
altering.  "Hold — hold — go  not — wait  one  moment.  Saidst 
thou,  my  death  shoald  follow  thme  so  closely  ?  " 

'*  Within  the  space  of  twenty-four  hours,"  repeated  Gale- 
otti,  firmly,  "  if  there  be  one  sparkle  of  true  divination  in 
those  bright  and  mysterious  intelligences,  which  speak,  each 
on  their  courses,  though  without  a  tongue.  I  wish  youi 
Majesty  good  rest." 

'^  Hold — hold — go  not,"  said  the  King,  taking  him  by  the 
arm  and  leading  him  from  the  door.  "  Martius  Galeotti,  I 
have  been  a  kind  master  to  thee — enriched  thee — made  thee 
my  friend — my  companion — the  instructor  of  my  studies. 
Be  open  with  me,  I  entreat  you.  Is  there  aught  in  this  art 
of  yours  in  very  deed  ?  Shall  this  Scot^s  mission  be,  in 
fact,  propitious  to  me  ?  And  is  the  measure  of  our  lives  so 
very — very  nearly  matched  ?  Confess,  my  good  Martius, 
you  speak  after  the  trick  of  your  trade.  Confess,  I  pray 
you,  and  you  shall  have  no  displeasure  at  my  hand.  I  am 
in  years — a  prisoner — likely  to  be  deprived  of  a  kingdom  ; 
to  one  in  my  condition  truth  is  worth  kingdoms,  and  it  is 
from  thee,  dearest  Martius,  that  I  must  look  for  this  ines- 
timable jewel." 

"  And  I  have  laid  it  before  your  Majesty,"  said  Galeotti, 
*'  at  the  risk  that,  in  brutal  passion,  you  might  turn  upon 
me  and  rend  me." 

"Who,  I,  Galeotti  ?"  replied  Louis,  mildly.  '' Alas  I 
thou  mistakest  me  !  Am  I  not  captive,  and  should  not  I  be 
patient,  especially  since  my  anger  can  only  show  my  impo- 
tence ?  Tell  me  then  in  sincerity,  have  you  fooled  me,  or 
is  your  science  true,  and  do  you  truly  report  it  ?  " 

"  Your  Majesty  will  forgive  me  if  I  reply  to  you,"  said 
Martius  Galeotti,  "  that  time  only — time  and  the  event — 
will  convince  incredulity.  It  suits  ill  the  place  of  confi- 
dence which  I  have  held  at  the  council-table  of  the  renowned 
conqueror,  Matthias  Corvinus  of  Hungary — nay,  in  the  cab 
inet  of  the  Emperor  himself — to  reiterate  assurances  of  that 
which  I  have  advanced  as  true.  If  you  will  not  believe  me, 
1  can  but  refer  to  the  course  of  events.  A  day  or  two  days' 
patience  will  prove  or  disprove  what  I  have  averred  con- 

*  SeePrediotioa  of  Louis  XI's  Death.    Note  43. 


S42  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

cerning  the  young  Scot ;  and  I  will  be  contented  to  die  on 
the  wheel,  and  have  my  limbs  broken  joint  by  joint,  if  your 
Majesty  have  not  advantage,  a»d  that  in  a  most  important 
degree,  from  the  dauntless  conduct  '^^,that  Quentin  Dur- 
ward.  But  if  I  were  to  die  under  such  tortures,  it  would  be 
well  your  Majesty  should  seek  a  ghostly  father  ;  for  from  the 
moment  my  last  groan  is  drawn  only  twenty-four  hours  will 
remain  to  you  for  confession  and  penitence.'^ 

Louis  continued  to  keep  hold  of  Galeotti^s  robe  as  he  led 
him  towards  the  door,  and  pronounced  as  he  opened  it,  in  a 
loud  voice,  ''  To-morrow  we'll  talk  more  of  this.  Go  in 
peace,  my  learned  father — go  in  peace — go  in  peace!  " 

He  repeated  these  words  three  times  ;  and,  still  afraid  that 
the  provost-marshal  might  mistake  his  purpose,  he  led  the 
astrologer  into  the  hall,  holding  fast  his  robe,  as  if  afraid  that 
he  should  be  torn  from  him  and  put  to  death  before  his  eyes. 
He  did  not  unloose  his  grasp  until  he  had  not  only  repeated 
again  and  again  the  gracious  phrase,  "  Go  in  peace,''  but 
even  made  a  private  signal  to  the  provost-marshal,  to  enjoin 
a  suspension  of  all  proceedings  against  the  person  of  the 
astrologer. 

Thus  did  the  possession  of  some  secret  information,  joined 
to  audacious  courage  and  readiness  of  wit,  save  Galeotti  from 
the  most  imminent  danger  ;  and  thus  was  Louis,  the  most 
sagacious  as  well  as  the  most  vindictive  amongst  the  mon- 
archs  of  the  period,  cheated  of  his  revenge  by  the  influence 
of  superstition  upon  a  selfish  temper,  and  a  mind  to  which, 
from  the  consciousness  of  many  crimes,  the  fear  of  death 
was  peculiarly  terrible. 

He  felt,  however,  considerable  mortification  at  being 
obliged  to  relinquish  his  purposed  vengeance  ;  and  the  dis- 
appointment seemed  to  be  shared  by  his  satellites,  to  whom 
the  execution  was  to  have  been  committed.  Le  Balafr^ 
alone,  perfectly  indifferent  on  the  subject,  so  soon  as  the 
countermanding  signal  was  given,  left  the  door  at  which 
he  had  posted  himself,  and  in  a  few  minutes  was  fast 
asleep. 

The  provost-marshal,  as  the  group  reclined  themselves  to 
repose  m  the  hall  after  the  King  retired  to  his  bedchamber, 
continued  to  eye  the  goodly  form  of  the  astrologer,  with  the 
look  of  the  mastiff  watching  a  joint  of  meat  which  the  cook 
had  retrieved  from  his  jaws,  while  his  attendants  comuni- 
cated  to  each  other  in  brief  sentences  their  characteristic 
sentiments. 

"  The    poor    blinded    necromancer,*'    whispered    Trois- 


QUENTIN  D UR  WABD  843 

Eschelles,  with  an  air  of  spiritual  unction  and  commisera- 
tion,  to  his  comrade.  Petit- Andre,  ^'hath  lost  the  fairest 
chance  of  expiating  some  of  his  vile  sorceries,  b^r  dying 
through  means  of  the  cord  of  the  blessed  St.  Francis  !  and 
I  had  purpose,  indeed,  to  leave  the  comfortable  noose  around 
his  neck,  to  scare  the  foul  fiend  from  his  unhappy  carcass/' 

"And  I,"  said  Petit- Andre,  ''have  missed  the  rarest  op- 
portunity of  knowing  how  far  a  weight  of  seventeen  stone 
will  stretch  a  three-plied  cord  !  It  would  have  been  a  glo- 
rious experiment  in  our  line,  and  the  jolly  old  boy  would 
have  died  so  easily  ! " 

While  this  whispered  dialogue  was  going  forward,  Martins, 
who  had  taken  the  opposite  side  of  the  huge  stone  fireplace, 
round  which  the  whole  group  was  assembled,  regarded  them 
askance  and  with  a  look  of  suspicion.  He  first  put  his  hand 
into  his  vest,  and  satisfied  himself  that  the  handle  of  a  very 
sharp  double-edged  poniard,  which  he  always  carried  about 
him,  was  disposed  conveniently  for  his  grasp  ;  for,  as  we 
have  already  noticed,  he  was,  though  now  somewhat  un- 
wieldy, a  powerful,  athletic  man,  and  prompt  and  active  at 
the  use  of  his  weapon.  Satisfied  that  this  trusty  instrument 
was  in  readiness,  he  next  took  from  his  bosom  a  scroll  of 
parchment,  inscribed  with  Greek  characters  and  marked 
with  cabalistic  signs,  drew  together  the  wood  in  the  fire- 
place, and  made  a  blaze  by  which  he  could  distinguish  the 
features  and  attitude  of  all  who  sat  or  lay  around  :  the  heavy 
and  deep  slumbers  of  the  Scottish  soldier,  who  lay  motion- 
less, with  his  rough  countenance  as  immovable  as  if  it  were 
cast  in  bronze  ;  the  pale  and  anxious  face  of  Oliver,  who  at 
one  time  assumed  the  appearance  of  slumber,  and  again 
opened  his  eyes  and  raised  his  head  hastily,  as  if  stung  by 
some  internal  throe,  or  awakened  by  some  distant  sound  ; 
the  discontented,  savage,  bull-dog  aspect  of  the  provost, 
who  looked 

Frustrate  of  his  will, 
Not  half  suflaced,  and  greedy  yet  to  kill ; 

while  the  background  was  filled  up  by  the  ghastly  hypocrit- 
ical countenance  of  Trois-Echelles,  whose  eyes  were  cast  up 
towards  Heaven,  as  if  he  was  internally  saying  his  devotions  ; 
and  the  grim  drollery  of  Petit- Andre,  who  amused  himself 
with  mimicking  the  gestures  and  wry  faces  of  his  comrade 
before  he  betook  himself  to  sleep. 

Amidst  these  vulgar  and  ignoble  countenances,  nothing 
could    show   to   greater  advantage   than  the  stately  form. 


Ui  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

handsome  mien,  and  commanding  features  of  the  astrologer, 
who  might  have  passed  for  one  of  the  ancient  magi,  im- 
prisoned in  a  den  of  robbers,  and  about  to  invoke  a  spirit  to 
accomplish  his  liberation.  And,  indeed,  had  he  been  dis- 
tinguished by  nothing  else  than  the  beauty  of  the  graceful 
and  flowing  beard  which  descended  over  the  mysterious  roll 
which  he  held  in  his  hand,  one  might  have  been  pardoned 
for  regretting  that  so  noble  an  appendage  had  been  bestowed 
on  one  who  put  both  talents,  learning,  and  the  advantages 
of  eloquence,  and  a  majestic  person,  to  the  mean  purposes 
of  a  cheat  and  an  impostor. 

Thus  passed  the  night  in  Count  Herbert^s  Tower,  in  the 
Castle  of  Peronne.  When  the  first  light  of  dawn  penetrated 
the  ancient  Gothic  chamber,  the  King  summoned  Oliver  to 
his  presence,  who  found  the  monarch  sitting  in  his  night- 
gown, and  was  astonished  at  the  alteration  which  one  night 
of  mortal  anxiety  had  made  in  his  looks.  He  would  have 
expressed  some  anxiety  on  the  subject,  but  the  King  silenced 
bim  by  entering  into  a  statement  of  the  various  modes  by 
which  he  had  previously  endeavored  to  form  friends  at  the 
court  of  Burgundy,  and  which  Oliver  was  charged  to  pros- 
ecute so  soon  as  he  should  be  permitted  to  stir  abroad.  And 
never  was  that  wily  minister  more  struck  with  the  clearness 
of  the  King's  intellect,  and  his  intimate  knowledge  of  all  the 
springs  which  influence  human  actions,  than  he  was  during 
that  memorable  consultation. 

About  two  hours  afterwards,  Oliver  accordingly  obtained 
permission  from  the  Count  of  Cr^vecoeur  to  go  out  and  ex- 
ecute the  commissions  which  his  master  had  entrusted  him 
with  ;  and  Louis,  sending  for  the  astrologer,  in  whom  he 
seemed  to  have  renewed  his  faith,  held  with  him,  in  like 
manner,  a  long  consultation,  the  issue  of  which  appeared  to 
give  him  more  spirits  and  confldence  than  he  had  at  first 
exhibited  ;  so  that  he  dressed  himself,  and  received  the 
morning  compliments  of  Crdvecoeur  with  a  calmness  at 
which  the  Burgundian  lord  could  not  help  wondering,  the 
rather  that  he  had  already  heard  that  the  Duke  had  passed 
several  hours  in  a  state  of  mind  which  seemed  to  render  the 
King's  safety  very  precarious. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

UNCERTAINTY 

Our  counsels  waver  like  the  unsteady  bark. 
That  reels  amid  the  strife  of  meeting  currents. 

Old  Play, 

If  the  night  passed  by  Louis  was  carefully  anxious  and 
agitated,  that  spent  by  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  who  had  at 
no  time  the  same  mastery  over  his  passions,  and,  indeed, 
who  permitted  them  almost  a  free  and  uncontroled  dominion 
over  his  actions,  was  still  more  disturbed. 

According  to  the  custom  of  the  period,  two  of  his  prin- 
cipal and  most  favored  counselors,  D'Hymbercourt  and  Des 
Comines,  shared  his  bedchamber,  couches  being  prepared 
for  them  near  the  bed  of  the  prince.  Their  attendance  was 
never  more  necessary  than  upon  this  night,  when,  distracted 
by  sorrow,  by  passion,  by  the  desire  of  revenge,  and  by  the 
sense  of  honor,  which  forbade  him  to  exercise  it  upon  Louis 
in  his  present  condition,  the  Duke's  mind  resembled  a  vol- 
cano in  eruption,  which  throws  forth  all  the  different  con- 
tents of  the  mountain,  mingled  and  molten  into  one  burning 
mass. 

He  refused  to  throw  off  his  clothes,  or  to  make  any  prep- 
aration for  sleep  ;  but  spent  the  night  in  a  succession  of 
the  most  violent  bursts  of  passion.  In  some  paroxysms  he 
talked  incessantly  to  his  attendants  so  thick  and  so  rapidly, 
that  they  were  really  afraid  his  senses  would  give  way  ; 
choosing  for  his  theme  the  merits  and  the  kindness  of  heart 
of  the  murdered  Bishop  of  Liege,  and  recalling  all  the  in- 
stances of  mutual  kindness,  affection,  and  confidence  which 
had  passed  between  them,  until  he  had  worked  himself  into 
such  a  transport  of  grief  that  he  threw  himself  upon  his  face 
in  the  bed,  and  seemed  ready  to  choke  with  the  sobs  and 
tears  which  he  endeavored  to  stifle.  Then  starting  from 
the  couch,  he  gave  vent  at  once  to  another  and  more  curious 
mood,  and  traversed  the  room  hastily,  uttering  incoherent 
threats,  and  still  more  incoherent  oaths  of  vengeance,  while, 
stamping  with  his  foot,  according  to  his  customary  action, 

345 


846  WA VERLET  NOVELS 

he  invoked  St.  George,  St.  Andrew,  and  whomsoever  else  he 
held  most  holy,  to  bear  witness  that  he  would  take  bloody 
vengeance  on  De  la  Marck,  on  the  people  of  Liege,  and  on 
Mm  who  was  the  author  of  the  whole.  These  last  threats, 
uttered  more  obscurely  than  the  others,  obviously  concerned 
the  person  of  the  King  ;  and  at  one  time  the  Duke  expressed 
his  determination  to  send  for  the  Duke  of  Normandy,  the 
brother  of  the  King,  and  with  whom  Louis  was  on  the  worst 
terms,  in  order  to  compel  the  captive  monarch  to  surrender 
either  the  crown  itself,  or  some  of  its  most  valuable  rights 
and  appanages. 

Another  day  and  night  passed  in  the  same  stormy  and 
fitful  deliberations,  or  rather  rapid  transitions  of  passion  ; 
for  the  Duke  scarcely  ate  or  drank,  never  changed  his  dress, 
and,  altogether,  demeaned  himself  like  one  in  whom  rage 
might  terminate  in  utter  insanity.  By  degrees  he  became 
more  composed,  and  began  to  hold,  from  time  to  time,  con- 
sultations with  his  ministers,  in  which  much  was  proposed, 
but  nothing  resolved  on.  Comines  assures  us  that  at  one 
time  a  courier  was  mounted  in  readiness  to  depart  for  the 
purpose  of  summoning  the  Duke  of  Normandy  ;  and  in  that 
event  the  prison  of  the  French  monarch  would  probably 
have  been  found,  as  in  similar  cases,  a  brief  road  to  his 
grave. 

At  other  times,  when  Charles  had  exhausted  his  fury,  he 
sat  with  his  features  fixed  in  stern  and  rigid  immobility,  like 
one  who  broods  over  some  desperate  deed  to  which  he  is  as 
yet  unable  to  work  up  his  resolution.  And  unquestionably 
it  would  have  needed  little  more  than  an  insidious  hint  from 
any  of  the  counselors  who  attended  his  person,  to  have  pushed 
the  Duke  to  some  very  desperate  action.  But  the  nobles  of 
Burgundy,  from  the  sacred  character  attached  to  the  person 
of  a  king,  and  a  lord  paramount,  and  from  a  regard  to  the 
public  faith,  as  well  as  that  of  their  Duke,  which  had  been 
pledged  when  Louis  threw  himself  into  their  power,  were 
almost  unanimously  inclined  to  recommend  moderate  meas- 
ures ;  and  the  arguments  which  D'Hymbercourt  and  Des 
Comines  had  now  and  then  ventured  to  insinuate  during  the 
night  were,  in  the  cooler  hours  of  the  next  morning,  advanced 
and  urged  by  Cr^vecoeur  and  others.  Possibly  their  zeal  in 
behalf  of  the  King  might  not  be  entirely  disinterested. 
Many,  as  we  have  mentioned,  had  already  experienced  the 
bounty  of  the  King,  others  had  either  estates  or  pretensions 
in  France,  which  placed  them  a  little  under  his  influence  ; 
and  it  is  certain  tnat  the  treasure,  which  had  loaded  four 


Q  UENTIN  D  UR  WARD  847 

mules  when  the  King  entered  Peronne,  became  much  lighter 
in  the  course  of  these  negotiations. 

In  the  course  of  the  third  day  the  Count  of  Campo-basso 
brought  his  Italian  wit  to  assist  the  counsels  of  Charles  ;  and 
well  was  it  for  Louis  that  he  had  not  arrived  when  the  Duke 
was  in  his  first  fury.  Immediately  on  his  arrival,  a  regular 
meeting  of  the  Duke^s  counselors  was  convened,  for  conserv- 
ing the  measures  to  be  adopted  in  this  singular  crisis. 

On  this  occasion  Campo-basso  gave  his  opinion  couched  in 
the  apologue  of  the  traveler,  the  adder,  and  the  fox  ;  and 
reminded  the  Duke  of  the  advice  which  Eeynard  gave  to  the 
man,  that  he  should  crush  his  mortal  enemy,  now  that 
chance  had  placed  his  fate  at  his  disposal.  Des  Comines, 
who  saw  the  Duke's  eyes  sparkle  at  a  proposal  which  his 
own  violence  of  temper  had  already  repeatedly  suggested, 
hastened  to  state  the  possibility  that  Louis  might  not  be,  in 
fact,  so  directly  accessory  to  the  sanguinary  action  which 
had  been  committed  at  Schonwaldt  ;  that  he  might  be  able 
to  clear  himself  of  the  imputation  laid  to  his  charge,  and 
perhaps  to  make  other  atonement  for  the  distractions  which 
his  intrigues  had  occasioned  in  the  Duke's  dominions,  and 
those  of  his  allies  ;  and  that  an  act  of  violence  perpetrated 
on  the  King  was  sure  to  bring  both  on  France  and  Burgundy 
a  train  of  the  most  unhappy  consequences,  among  which  not 
the  least  to  be  feared  was  that  the  English  might  avail  them- 
selves of  the  commotions  and  civil  discord  which  must  needs 
ensue  to  repossess  themselves  of  Normandy  and  Guyenne, 
and  renew  those  dreadful  wars,  which  had  only,  and  with 
difficulty,  been  terminated  by  the  union  of  both  France  and 
Burgundy  against  the  common  enemy.  Finally,  he  con- 
fessed, that  he  did  not  mean  to  urge  the  absolute  and  free 
dismissal  of  Louis  ;  but  only  that  the  Duke  should  avail 
himself  no  farther  of  his  present  condition  than  merely  to 
3stablish  a  fair  and  equitable  treaty  between  the  countries, 
with  such  security  on  the  King's  part  as  should  make  it  dif- 
ficult for  him  to  break  his  faith,  or  disturb  the  internal 
peace  of  Burgundy  in  future.  D'Hymbercourt,  Crevecoeur, 
and  others  signified  their  reprobation  of  the  violent  meas- 
ures proposed  by  Campo-basso,  and  their  opinion  that  in 
the  way  of  treaty  more  permanent  advantages  could  be  ob- 
tained, and  in  a  manner  more  honorable  for  Burgundy,  than 
by  an  action  which  would  stain  her  with  a  breach  of  faith 
and  hospitality. 

The  Duke  listened  to  these  arguments  with  his  looks  fixed 
on  the  ground,  and  his  brows  so  knitted  together  as  to  bring 


348  wavshlet  novels 

his  bushy  eyebrows  into  one  mass.  But  when  Cr^vecoeur 
proceeded  to  say  that  he  did  not  believe  Louis  either  knew 
of,  or  was  accessory  to,  the  atrocious  act  of  violence  com- 
mitted at  Schonwaldt,  Charles  raised  his  head,  and  darting 
a  fierce  look  at  his  counselor,  exclaimed,  "Have  you  too, 
Crevecceur,  heard  the  gold  of  France  clink  ?  Methinks  it 
rings  in  my  councils  as  merrily  as  ever  the  bells  of  St.  Denis. 
Dare  any  one  say  that  Louis  is  not  the  fomenter  of  these 
feuds  in  Flanders  ?  " 

'^My  gracious  lord,"  said  Crevecceur,  ''  my  hand  has  ever 
been  more  conversant  with  steel  than  with  gold  ;  and  so  far 
am  I  from  holding  that  Louis  is  free  from  the  charge  of 
having  caused  the  disturbances  in  Flanders,  that  it  is  not 
long  since,  in  the  face  of  his  whole  court,  I  charged  him 
with  that  breach  of  faith,  and  offered  him  defiance  in  your 
name.  But  although  his  intrigues  have  been  doubtless  the 
original  cause  of  these  commotions,  I  am  so  far  from  believ- 
ing that  he  authorized  the  death  of  the  archbishop,  that  I 
believe  one  of  his  emissaries  publicly  protested  against  it ; 
and  I  could  produce  the  man,  were  it  your  Grace's  pleasure 
to  see  him." 

'*  It  is  our  pleasure,"  said  the  Duke.  '*'  St.  George  !  can 
you  doubt  that  we  desire  to  act  justly  ?  Even  in  the 
highest  flight  of  our  passion  we  are  known  for  an  upright 
and  a  just  judge.  We  will  see  France  ourself  ;  we  will  our- 
self  charge  him  with  our  wrongs,  and  ourself  state  to  him 
the  reparation  which  we  expect  and  demand.  If  he  shall  be 
found  guiltless  of  this  murder,  the  atonement  for  other 
crimes  may  be  more  easy.  If  he  hath  been  guilty  who  shall 
say  that  a  life  of  penitence  in  some  retired  monastery,  were 
not  a  most  deserved  and  a  most  merciful  doom  ?  Who,"  he 
added,  kindling  as  he  spoke — '^  who  shall  dare  to  blame  a 
revenge  yet  more  direct  and  more  speedy  ?  Let  your  wit- 
ness attend.  We  will  to  the  castle  at  the  hour  before  noon. 
Some  articles  we  will  minute  down,  with  which  he  shall 
comply,  or  woe  on  his  head  !  others  shall  depend  upon  the 
proof.  Break  up  the  council  and  dismiss  yourselves.  I  will 
but  change  my  dress,  as  this  is  scarce  a  fitting  trim  in  which 
to  wait  on  wy  most  gracious  sovereign.** 

With  a  deep  and  bitter  emphasis  on  the  last  expression, 
the  Duke  arose,  and  strode  out  of  the  room. 

*' Louis's  safety,  and,  what  is  worse,  the  honor  of  Bur- 
gundy, depend  on  a  cast  of  the  dice,"  said  D'Hymbercourt 
to  Crevecceur  and  to  Des  Comines.  *' Haste  thee  to  the 
castle^  Des  Comines ;  thou  hast  a  better  filed  tongue  than 


Q  UENTIN  D  UR  WA  RD  849 

either  Cr^vecoeur  or  1.  Explain  to  Louis  what  storm  is  ap- 
proaching ;  he  will  best  know  how  to  pilot  himself.  I  trust 
this  Life  Guardsman  will  say  nothing  which  can  aggravate ; 
for  who  knows  what  may  have  been  the  secret  commission 
with  which  he  was  charged  ?  " 

*' The  young  man/'  said  CrAvecoeur,  ''seems  bold,  yet 
prudent  and  wary  far  beyond  his  years.  In  all  which  he 
said  to  me  he  was  tender  of  the  King's  character,  as  of  that 
of  the  prince  whom  he  serves.  I  trust  he  will  be  equally  so 
in  the  Duke's  presence.  I  must  go  seek  him,  and  also  the 
young  Countess  of  Oroye." 

"  The  countess  !  You  told  ns  you  had  left  her  at  St. 
Bridget's  nunnery  ?" 

''Ay,  but  I  was  obliged,"  said  the  count,  "to  send  for 
her  express,  by  the  Duke's  orders  ;  and  she  has  been  brought 
hither  on  a  litter,  as  being  unable  to  travel  otherwise.  She 
was  in  a  state  of  the  deepest  distress,  both  on  account  of  the 
uncertainty  of  the  fate  of  her  kinswoman,  the  Lady  Ham- 
eline,  and  the  gloom  which  overhangs  her  own,  guilty  as 
she  has  been  of  a  feudal  delinquency,  in  withdrawing  her- 
self from  the  protection  of  her  liege  lord,  Duke  Charles,  who 
is  not  the  person  in  the  world  most  likely  to  view  with  in- 
difference what  trenches  on  his  seigniorial  rights." 

The  information  that  the  young  countess  was  in  the  hands 
of  Charles  added  fresh  and  more  pointed  thorns  to  Louis's 
reflections.  He  was  conscious  that,  by  explaining  the  in- 
trigues by  which  he  had  induced  the  Lady  Hameline  and 
her  to  resort  to  Peronne  [Plessis],  she  might  supply  that 
evidence  which  he  had  removed  by  the  execution  of  Zamet 
Maugrabin  ;  and  he  knew  well  how  much  such  proof  of  his 
having  interfered  with  the  rights  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy 
would  furnish  both  motive  and  pretext  for  Charles's  availing 
himself  to  the  uttermost  of  his  present  predicament. 

Louis  discoursed  on  these  matters  with  great  anxiety  to 
the  Sieur  Des  Comines,  whose  acute  and  political  talents 
better  suited  the  King's  temper  than  the  blunt,  martial 
character  of  Cr^vecoeur  or  the  feudal  haughtiness  of  D'Hym- 
bercourt. 

"  These  iron-handed  soldiers,  my  good  friend  Comines," 
he  said  to  his  future  historian,  "  should  never  enter  a  king's 
cabinet,  but  be  left  with  the  halberds  and  partizans  in  the 
ante-chamber.  Their  hands  are  indeed  made  for  our  use  ; 
but  the  monarch  who  puts  their  heads  to  any  better  occupa- 
tion than  that  of  anvils  for  his  enemies'  swords  and  macee 
ranks  with  the  fool  who  presented  his  mistress  with  a  dog- 


S50  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

leash  for  a  carcanet.  It  is  with  such  as  thou,  Philip,  whose 
eyes  are  gifted  with  the  quick  and  keen  sense  that  sees  be- 
yond the  exterior  surface  of  affairs,  that  princes  should 
share  their  council-table,  their  cabinet — what  do  I  say  ? — 
the  most  secret  recesses  of  their  soul/' 

Des  Comines,  himself  so  keen  a  spirit,  was  naturally  grati- 
fied with  the  approbation  of  the  most  sagacious  prince  in 
Europe  ;  and  he  could  not  so  far  disguise  his  internal  satis- 
faction but  that  Louis  was  aware  he  had  made  some  impres- 
sion on  him. 

'^  I  would  "  continued  he,  "  that  I  had  such  a  servant,  or 
rather  that  I  were  worthy  to  have  such  a  one  !  I  had  not 
then  been  in  this  unfortunate  situation  ;  which,  nevertheless, 
I  should  hardly  regret,  could  I  but  discover  any  means  of  se- 
curing the  services  of  so  experienced  a  statist/' 

Des  Comines  said  that  all  his  faculties,  such  as  they  were, 
were  at  the  service  of  his  Most  Christian  Majesty,  saving 
always  his  allegiance  to  his  rightful  lord,  Duke  Charles  of 
Burgundy. 

*^  And  am  I  one  who  would  seduce  you  from  that  alle- 
giance ?"  said  Louis,  pathetically.  ''Alas!  am  I  not  now 
endangered  by  having  reposed  too  much  confidence  in  my 
vassal  ?  and  can  the  cause  of  feudal  good  faith  be  more  sacred 
with  any  than  with  me,  whose  safety  depends  on  an  appeal 
to  it  ?  No,  Philip  des  Comines,  continue  to  serve  Chcirles 
of  Burgundy ;  and  you  will  best  serve  him  by  bringing 
round  a  fair  accommodation  with  Louis  of  France.  In  doing 
thus  you  will  serve  us  both,  and  one,  at  least,  will  be  grate- 
ful. I  am  told  your  appointments  in  this  court  hardly  match 
those  of  the  Grand  Falconer  ;  and  thus  the  services  of  the 
wisest  counselor  in  Europe  are  put  on  a  level,  or  rather 
ranked  below,  those  of  a  fellow  who  feeds  and  physics  kites  ! 
France  has  wide  lands ;  her  King  has  much  gold.  Allow 
me,  my  friend,  to  rectify  this  scandalous  inequality.  The 
means  are  not  distant.     Permit  me  to  use  them.'' 

The  King  produced  a  weighty  bag  of  money ;  but  Des 
Comines,  more  delicate  in  his  sentiments  than  most  courtiers 
of  that  time,  declined  the  proffer,  declaring  himself  perfectly 
satisfied  with  the  liberality  of  his  native  prince,  and  assuring 
Louis  that  his  desire  to  serve  him  could  not  be  increased  by 
the  acceptance  of  any  such  gratuity  as  he  had  proposed. 

''  Singular  man  ! "  exclaimed  the  King ;  let  me  embrace 
the  only  courtier  of  his  time  at  once  capable  and  incorrup- 
tible. Wisdom  is  to  be  desired  more  than  fine  gold  ;  and  be- 
Uere  me,  I  trust  in  thy  kindness,  Philip,  at  this  pinch,  more 


QUENTIN  DUE  WARD  851 

than  I  do  in  the  purchased  assistance  of  many  who  have  re- 
ceived my  gifts.  I  know  you  will  not  counsel  your  master 
to  abuse  such  an  opportunity  as  fortune,  and,  to  speak 
plain,  Des  Oomines,  as  my  own  folly,  has  afforded  him. 

"  To  abuse  it,  by  no  means,''  answered  the  historian  ;  **  but 
most  certainly  to  use  it." 

''How,  and  in  what  degree  ?'' said  Louis.  *'I  am  not 
ass  enough  to  expect  that  I  shall  escape  without  some  ran- 
som, but  let  it  be  a  reasonable  one  ;  reason  I  am  ever  willing 
to  listen  to,  at  Paris  or  at  Plessis,  equally  as  at  Peronne." 

''  Ah,  but  if  it  like  your  Majesty,''  replied  Des  Comines, 
''reason  at  Paris  or  Plessis  was  used  to  speak  in  so  low  and 
soft  a  tone  of  voice,  that  she  could  not  always  gain  an  audi- 
ence of  your  Majesty  ;  at  Peronne  she  borrows  the  speaking- 
trumpet  of  necessity,  and  her  voice  becomes  lordly  and  im- 
perative." 

"You  are  figurative,"  said  Louis,  unable  to  restrain  an 
emotion  of  peevishness  ;  "  I  am  a  dull,  blunt  man.  Sir  of 
Comines.  I  pray  you  leave  your  tropes,  and  come  to  plain 
ground.     What  does  your  duke  expect  of  me  ?" 

"I  am  the  bearer  of  no  proposition,  my  lord,"  said  Des 
Comines  ;  "  the  Duke  will  soon  explain  his  own  pleasure. 
But  some  things  occur  to  me  as  proposals,  for  which  your 
Majesty  ought  to  hold  yourself  prepared  ;  as,  for  example, 
the  final  cession  of  these  towns  here  upon  the  Somme." 

"  I  expected  so  much,"  said  Louis. 

''  That  you  should  disown  the  Liegeoisand  William  de  la 
Marck." 

"  As  willingly  as  I  disclaim  Hell  and  Satan."  said  Louis. 

''Ample  security  will  be  required,  by  hostages,  or  occupa- 
tion of  fortresses,  or  otherwise,  that  France  shall  in  the 
future  abstain  from  stirring  up  rebellion  among  the  Flem- 
ings." 

■  "  It  is  something  new,"  answered  the  King,  "  that  a  vassal 
should  demand  pledges  from  his  sovereign  ;  but  let  that  pass 
too." 

"A  suitable  and  independent  appanage  for  your  illustrious 
brother,  the  ally  and  friend  of  my  master — Normandy  or 
Champagne.     The  Duke  loves  your  father's  house,  my  liege." 

"So  well,"  answered  Louis,  "that,  mortDieu!  he's  about 
to  make  them  all  kings.  Is  your  budget  of  hints  yet  emp- 
tied?" 

"  Not  entirely,"  answered  the  counselor  :  "  it  will  certainly 
be  required  that  your  Majesty  shall  forbear  molesting,  as  you 
hayp  dpne  of  late,  the  Duke  de  Bretagne,  and  that  you  will 


862  )VA  VEBLE  Y  NO  VEL8 

no  longer  contest  the  right  which  he  and  other  grand  feuda- 
tories have  to  strike  money,  to  term  themselves  dukes  and 
princes  by  the  grace  of  God " 

*'  In  a  word,  to  make  so  many  kings  of  my  vassals.  Sir 
Philip,  would  you  make  a  fratricide  of  me  ?  You  remember 
well  my  brother  Charles  :  he  was  no  sooner  Duke  of  Guyenne 
than  he  died.  And  what  will  be  left  to  the  descendant  and 
representative  of  Charlemagne,  after  giving  away  these  rich 
provinces,  save  to  be  smeared  with  oil  at  Kheims,  and  to  eat 
his  dinner  under  a  high  canopy  ?  " 

"  We  will  diminish  your  Majesty's  concern  on  that  score,  by 
giving  you  a  companion  in  that  solitary  exaltation,^'  said 
Philip  des  Comines.  '*  The  Duke  of  Burgundy,  though  he 
claims  not  at  present  the  title  of  an  independent  king,  desires 
nevertheless  to  be  freed  in  future  from  the  abject  marks  of 
subjection  required  of  him  to  the  crown  of  France  ;  it  is  his 
purpose  to  close  his  ducal  coronet  with  an  imperial  arch,  and 
surmount  it  with  a  globe,  in  emblem  that  his  dominions  are 
independent." 

*'  And  how  dares  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  the  sworn  vassal 
of  France,''  exclaimed  Louis,  starting  up  and  showing  an 
unwonted  degree  of  emotion — ''  how  dares  he  propose  such 
terms  to  his  sovereign  as,  by  every  law  of  Europe,  should 
infer  a  forfeiture  of  his  fief  ?  " 

^'  The  doom  of  forfeiture  it  would  in  this  case  be  difficult 
to  enforce,"  answered  Des  Comines,  calmly.  '^  Your  Majesty 
is  aware  that  the  strict  interpretation  of  the  feudal  law  is 
becoming  obsolete  even  in  the  Empire,  and  that  superior  and 
vassal  endeavor  to  mend  their  situation  in  regard  to  each 
other  as  they  have  power  and  opportunity.  Your  Majesty's 
interferences  with  the  Duke's  vassals  in  Flanders  will  prove 
an  exculpation  of  my  master's  conduct,  supposing  him  to  in- 
sist that,  by  enlarging  his  independence,  France  should  in 
future  be  debarred  from  any  pretext  of  doing  so." 

*'  Comines — Comines  !  "  said  Louis,  arising  again  and  pac- 
ing the  room  in  a  pensive  manner,  '^  this  is  a  dreadful  lesson 
on  the  text  vcb  victis  !  You  cannot  mean  that  the  Duke  will 
insist  on  all  these  hard  conditions  ?  " 

*'  At  least  I  would  have  your  Majesty  be  in  a  condition  to 
discuss  them  all." 

*'  Yet  moderation,  Des  Comines — moderation  in  success  is 
— no  one  knows  better  than  you — necessary  to  its  ultimate 
advantage." 

'*So  please  your  Majesty,  the  merit  of  moderation  is,  I 
have  observed,  most  apt  to  be  extolled  by  the  losing  party. 


qUENTIN  DURWARD  353 

The  winner  holds  in  more  esteem  the  prudence  which  calls 
on  him  not  to  leave  an  opportunity  unimproved/'- 

''Well,  we  will  consider/'  replied  the  King  ;  ''but  at  least 
thou  hast  reached  the  extremity  of  your  duke's  unreasonable 
exaction  ?  There  can  remain  nothing — or  if  there  does,  for 
so  thy  brow  intimates — what  is  it — what  indeed  can  it  be, 
unless  it  be  my  crown,  which  these  previous  demands,  if 
granted,  will  deprive  of  all  its  luster  ?'' 

"  My  lord,"  said  Des  Comines,  "  what  remains  to  be  men- 
tioned is  a  thing  partly — indeed,  in  a  great  measure — within 
the  Duke's  own  power,  though  he  means  to  invite  your  Maj- 
esty's accession  to  it,  for  in  truth  it  touches  you  nearly," 

"  Pasques-dieu  !  "  exclaimed  the  King  impatiently,  "  what 
is  it  ?  Speak  out.  Sir  Philip  ;  am  I  to  send  him  my  daughter 
for  a  concubine,  or  what  other  dishonor  is  he  to  put  on 
me?" 

"No  dishonor,  my  liege ;  but  your  Majesty's  cousin,  the 
illustrious  Duke  of  Orleans " 

"  Ha  !"  exclaimed  the  King  ;  but  Des  Oomines  proceeded 
without  heeding  the  interruption. 

" — Having  conferred  his  affections  on  the  young  Countess 
Isabelle  de  Croye,  the  Duke  expects  your  Majesty  will,  on 
your  part,  as  he  on  his,  yield  your  assent  to  the  marriage, 
and  unite  with  him  in  endowing  the  right  noble  couple  with 
such  an  appanage  as,  joined  to  the  countess's  estates,  may 
form  a  fit  establishment  for  a  child  of  France." 

"  Never — never  ! "  said  the  King,  bursting  out  into  that 
emotion  which  he  had  of  late  suppressed  with  much  difficulty, 
and  striding  about  in  a  disordered  haste,  which  formed  the 
strongest  contrast  to  the  self-command  which  he  usually  ex- 
hibited— "  never,  never  !  Let  them  bring  scissors  and  shear 
my  hair  like  that  of  the  parish  fool,  whom  I  have  so  richly  re- 
sembled— let  them  bid  the  monastery  or  the  grave  yawn  for 
me — let  them  bring  red-hot  basins  to  sear  my  eyes — axe  or 
aconite — whatever  they  will ;  but  Orleans  shall  not  break  his 
plighted  faith  to  my  daughter,  or  marry  another  while  she 
lives ! " 

"  Your  Majesty,"  said  Des  Comines,  "  ere  you  set  your 
mind  so  keenly  against  what  is  proposed,  will  consider  your 
own  want  of  power  to  prevent  it.  Every  wise  man,  when 
he  sees  a  rock  giving  way,  withdraws  from  the  bootless  at- 
tempt of  preventing  the  fall." 

"  But  a  brave  man,"  said  Louis,  "  will  at  least  find  his 
grave  beneath  it.  Des  Comines,  consider  the  great  loss — the 
ntter  destruction,  such  a  jnarxiage  will  bring  upon  my  king- 

«3 


354  WAVERl^ET  NOVELS 

dom.  Recollect,  I  have  but  one  feeble  boy,  and  this  Orleans 
is  the  next*  heir  ;  consider  that  the  church  hath  consented  to 
his  union  with  Joan,  which  unites  so  happily  the  interests 
of  both  branches  of  my  family — think  on  all  this,  and  think 
too  that  this  union  has  been  the  favorite  scheme  of  my  whole 
life — that  I  have  schemed  for  it,  fought  for  it,  watched  for  it 
— prayed  for  it  and  sinned  for  it.  Philip  des  Comines,  I  will 
not  forego  it !  Think,  man — think  !  pity  me  in  this  extrem- 
ity ;  thy  quick  brain  can  speedily  find  some  substitute  for  this 
sacrifice — some  ram  to  be  offered  up  instead  of  that  project 
which  is  dear  to  me  as  the  Patriarch^s  only  son  was  to  him. 
Philip,  pity  me  !  You,  at  least,  should  know  that  to  men 
of  judgment  and  foresight  the  destruction  of  the  scheme  on 
which  they  have  long  dwelt,  and  for  which  they  have  long 
toiled,  is  more  inexpressibly  bitter  than  the  transient  grief 
of  ordinary  men,  whose  pursuits  are  but  the  gratification  of 
some  temporary  passion — you,  who  know  how  to  sympathize 
with  the  deeper,  the  more  genuine  distress  of  baffled  prudence 
and  disappointed  sagacity,  will  you  not  feel  for  me  ?  " 

''  My  lord  and  king  !  '^  replied  Des  Comines,  *  ^  I  do  sym- 
pathize with  your  distress,  in  so  far  as  duty  to  my  mas- 
ter  " 

'^  Do  not  mention  him  ! ''  said  Louis,  acting,  or  at  least 
appearing  to  act,  under  an  irresistible  and  headlong  impulse, 
which  withdrew  the  usual  guard  which  he  maintained  over 
his  language.  **  Charles  of  Burgundy  is  unworthy  of  your 
attachment.  He  who  can  insult  and  strike  his  counselors 
— he  who  can  distinguish  the  wisest  and  most  faithful  among 
them  by  the  opprobrious  name  of  Booted  Head ! '' 

The  wisdom  of  Philip  des  Comines  did  not  prevent  his 
having  a  high  sense  of  personal  consequence  ;  and  he  was  so 
much  struck  with  the  words  of  the  King  uttered,  as  it  were, 
in  the  career  of  a  passion  which  overleaped  ceremony,  that 
he  could  only  rely  by  repetition  of  the  words  ''  Booted  Head! 
It  is  impossible  that  my  master  the  Duke  could  have  so 
termed  the  servant  who  has  been  at  his  side  since  he  could 
mount  a  palfrey,  and  that  too  before  a  foreign  monarch — it 
is  impossible !  '^ 

Louis  instantly  saw  the  impression  he  had  made,  and 
avoiding  alike  a  tone  of  condolence,  which  might  have  seemed 
insulting,  and  one  of  sympathy,  which  might  have  savored 
of  affectation,  he  said,  with  sim^plicity,  and  at  the  same  time 
with  dignity,  '^  My  misfortunes  make  me  forget  my  courtesy, 
else  1.  had  not  spoken  to  you  of  what  it  must  be  unpleasant 
for  you  to  hear.     But  you   have  in   reply  taxed  me  with 


QUJENTIN  BUBWARB  364 

having  uttered  impossibilities,  this  touches  my  honor  ;  yet  I 
must  submit  to  the  charge,  if  I  tell  you  not  the  circum- 
stances which  the  Duke,  laughing  until  his  eyes  ran  over, 
assigned  for  the  origin  of  that  opprobrious  name,  which  I 
will  not  offend  your  ears  by  repeating.  Thus,  then,  it 
chanced.  You,  Sir  Philip  des  Comines,  were  at  a  hunting- 
match  with  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  your  master  ;  and  when 
he  alighted  after  the  chase,  he  required  your  services  iri 
drawing  off  his  boots.  Beading  in  your  looks,  perhaps,  some 
natural  resentment  of  this  disparaging  treatment,  he  ordered 
you  to  sit  down  in  turn,  and  rendered  you  the  same  office  he 
had  just  received  from  you.  But,  offended  at  your  under- 
standing him  literally,  he  no  sooner  plucked  one  of  your 
boots  off  than  he  brutally  beat  it  about  your  head  till  the 
blood  flowed,  exclaiming  against  the  insolence  of  a  subject 
who  had  the  presumption  to  accept  of  such  a  service  at  the 
hand  of  his  sovereign  ;  and  hence  he,  or  his  privileged  fool 
Le  Glorieux,  is  in  the  current  habit  of  distinguishing  you  by 
the  absurd  and  ridiculous  name  of  THe-hotte,  which  makes 
one  of  the  Duke's  most  ordinary  subjects  of  pleasantry."* 

While  Louis  thus  spoke,  he  had  the  double  pleasure  of 
galling  to  the  quick  the  person  whom  he  addressed — an  ex- 
ercise which  it  was  in  his  nature  to  enjoy,  even  where  he 
had  not,  as  in  the  present  case,  the  apology  that  he  did  so 
in  pure  retaliation — and  that  of  observing,  that  he  had  at 
length  been  able  to  find  a  point  in  Des  Comines's  character 
which  might  lead  him  gradually  from  the  interests  of  Bur- 
gundy to  those  of  France.  But  although  the  deep  resent-, 
ment  which  the  offended  courtier  entertained  against  his 
master  induced  him  at  a  future  period  to  exchange  the  ser- 
vice of  Charles  for  that  of  Louis,  yet,  at  the  present  moment, 
he  was  contented  to  throw  out  only  some  general  hints  of  his 
friendly  inclination  towards  France,  which  he  well  knew  the 
King  would  understand  how  to  interpret.  And  indeed  it 
would  be  unjust  to  stigmatize  the  memory  of  the  excellent 
historian  with  the  desertion  of  his  master  on  this  occasion, 
although  he  was  certainly  now  possessed  with  sentiments 
much  more  favorable  to  Louis  than  when  he  entered  the 
apartment. 

He  constrained  himself  to  laugh  at  the  anecdote  which 
Louis  had  detailed,  and  then  added,  "  I  did  not  think  so. 
trifling  a  frolic  would  have  dwelt  on  the  mind  of  the  Duke 
so  long  as  to  make  it  worth  telling  again.  Some  such  pas- 
sage there  was  of  drawing  off  boots  and  the  like,  as  your 

♦  See  Anecdote  of  the  Boots.    Note  44.  '^  i 


350  WAVEtlLEY  NOVELS 

Majesty  knows  that  the  Duke  is  fond  of  rude  play  ;  but  it  hag 
been  much  exaggerated  in  his  recollection.     Let  it  pass  on." 

"  Ay,  let  it  pass  on/'  said  the  King  ;  '^  it  is  indeed  shame 
it  should  have  detained  us  a  minute.  And  now.  Sir  Philip, 
I  hope  you  are  French  so  far  as  to  afford  me  your  best  coun- 
gel  in  these  difficult  affairs.  You  have,  I  am  well  aware, 
the  clue  to  the  labyrinth,  if  you  would  but  impart  it." 

'*  Your  Majesty  may  command  my  best  advice  and  service, 
replied  Des  Comines,  ''  under  reservation  always  of  my  duty 
to  my  own  master." 

This  was  nearly  what  the  courtier  had  before  stated  ;  but 
he  now  repeated  it  in  a  tone  so  different,  that  whereas  Louis 
understood  from  the  former  declaration  that  the  reserved 
duty  to  Burgundy  was  the  prime  thing  to  be  considered,  so 
he  now  saw  clearly  that  the  emphasis  was  reversed,  and  that 
more  weight  was  now  given  by  the  speaker  to  his  promise  of 
counsel  than  to  a  restriction  which  seemed  interposed  for 
the  sake  of  form  and  consistency.  The  King  resumed  his 
own  seat,  and  compelled  Des  Comines  to  sit  by  him,  listen- 
ing at  the  same  time  to  that  statesman,  as  if  the  words  of 
an  oracle  sounded  in  his  ears.  Des  Comines  spoke  in  that 
low  and  impressive  tone  which  implies  at  once  great  sincerity 
and  some  caution,  and  at  the  same  time  so  slowly  as  if  he 
was  desirous  that  the  King  should  weigh  and  consider  each 
individual  word  as  having  its  own  peculiar  and  determined 
meaning.  "  The  things,"  he  said,  *'  which  I  have  sug- 
gested for  your  Majesty's  consideration,  harsh  as  they  sound 
in  your  ear,  are  but  substitutes  for  still  more  violent  pro- 
posals brought  forward  in  the  Duke's  councils  by  such  as 
are  more  hostile  to  your  Majesty.  And  I  need  scarce  remind 
your  Majesty  that  the  more  direct  and  more  violent  sugges- 
tions find  readiest  acceptance  with  our  master,  who  loves 
brief  and  dangerous  measures  better  than  those  that  are  safe, 
but  at  the  same  time  circuitous." 

**  I  remember,"  said  the  King,  "I  have  seen  him  swim  a 
river  at  the  risk  of  drowning,  though  there  was  a  bridge  to 
be  found  for  riding  two  hundred  yards  round." 

"  True,  sire  ;  and  he  that  weighs  not  his  life  against  the 
gratification  of  a  moment  of  impetuous  passion  will,  on  the 
same  impulse,  prefer  the  gratification  of  his  will  to  the  in- 
crease of  his  substantial  power." 

'^  Most  true,"  replied  the  King  ;  '*  a  fool  will  ever  grasp 
rather  at  the  appearance  than  the  reality  of  authority.  All 
this  I  know  to  be  true  of  Charles  of  Burgundy.  But,  my  dear 
friend  Des  Comines,  what  do  you  infer  from  these  premiseg  ?" 


qUENTIN  DURWARD  357 

''Simply  this,  my  lord/'  answered  the  Burgundian,  ^'  that 
as  your  Majesty  has  seen  a  skilful  angler  control  a  large  and 
heavy  fish,  and  finally  draw  him  to  land  by  a  single  hair, 
which  fish  had  broken  through  a  tackle  tenfold  stronger  had 
the  fisher  presumed  to  strain  the  line  on  him,  instead  of  giv- 
ing him  head  enough  for  all  his  wild  flourishes,  even  so  your 
Majesty,  by  gratifying  the  Duke  in  these  particulars  on 
which  he  has  pitched  his  ideas  of  honor  and  the  gratification 
of  his  revenge,  may  evade  many  of  the  other  unpalatable 
propositions  at  which  I  have  hinted,  and  which — including, 
I  must  state  openly  to  your  Majesty,  some  of  those  through 
which  France  would  be  most  especially  weakened — will  slide 
out  of  his  remembrance  and  attention,  and,  being  referred 
to  subsequent  conferences  and  future  discussion,  may  be 
altogether  eluded/' 

"  I  understand  you,  my  good  Sir  Philip  ;  but  to  the  mat- 
ter," said  the  King.  "To  which  of  those  happy  proposi- 
tions is  your  duke  so  much  wedded  that  contradiction  will 
make  him  unreasonable  and  untractable  ?  '^ 

''  To  any  or  to  all  of  them,  if  it  please  your  Majesty,  on 
which  you  may  happen  to  contradict  him.  This  is  precisely 
what  your  Majesty  must  avoid ;  and  to  take  up  my  former 
parable,  you  must  needs  remain  on  the  watch,  ready  to  give 
the  Duke  line  enough  whenever  he  shoots  away  under  the 
impulse  of  his  rage.  His  fury,  already  considerably  abated, 
will  waste  itself  if  he  be  unopposed,  and  you  will  presently 
find  him  become  more  friendly  and  more  tractable.''' 

"  Still,''  said  the  King,  musing,  ''  there  must  be  some 
particular  demands  which  lie  deeper  at  my  cousin's  heart 
than  the  other  proposals.  Were  1  but  aware  of  these,  Sir 
Philip " 

'*  Your  Majesty  may  make  the  lightest  of  his  demands  the 
most  important,  simply  by  opposing  it,"  said  Des  Comines  ; 
*'  nevertheless,  my  lord,  thus  far  I  can  say,  that  every  shadow 
of  treaty  will  be  broken  off,  if  your  Majesty  renounce  not 
William  de  la  Marck  and  the  Liegeois." 

''I  have  already  said  that  I  will  disown  them,"  said  the 
King,  "and  well  they  deserve  it  at  my  hand  :  the  villains 
have  commenced  their  uproar  at  a  moment  that  might  have 
cost  me  my  life." 

"  He  that  fires  a  train  of  powder,"  replied  the  historian, 
"  must  expect  a  speedy  explosion  of  the  mine.  But  more 
than  mere  disavowal  of  their  cause  will  be  expected  of  your 
Majesty  by  Duke  Charles ;  for  know,  that  he  will  demand 
your  Majesty's  assistance  to  put  the  insurrection  down,  and 


358  WA  VERLE  Y  NO  VEL  S 

your  royal  presence  to  witness  the  punishment  which  he 
destines  for  the  rebels/' 

^^  That  may  scarce  consist  with  our  honor,  Des  Comines/' 
said  the  King. 

**  To  refuse  it  will  scarcely  consist  with  your  Majesty's 
safety/'  replied  Des  Comines.  '*  Charles  is  determined  to 
show  the  people  of  Flanders  that  no  hope,  nay,  no  promise, 
of  assistance  from  France  will  save  them  in  their  mutinies 
from  the  wrath  and  vengeance  of  Burgundy." 

"  But,  Sir  Philip,  I  will  speak  plainly,"  answered  the  King. 
' '  Could  we  but  procrastinate  the  matter,  might  not  these 
rogues  of  Liege  make  their  own  part  good  against  Duke 
Charles  ?  The  knaves  are  numerous  and  steady,  can  they 
not  hold  out  their  town  against  him  ?  " 

''With  the  help  of  the  thousand  archers  of  France  whom 
your  Majesty  promised  them,  they  might  have  done  some- 
thing ;  but " 

"Whom  I  promised  them!"  said  the  King.  **Alas! 
good  Sir  Philip  !  you  much  wrong  me  in  saying  so.'* 

" — But  without  whom,"  continued  Des  Comines,  not 
heeding  the  interruption,  '''  as  your  Majesty  will  not  now 
]ikely  find  it  convenient  to  supply  them,  what  chance  will  the 
burghers  have  of  making  good  their  town,  in  whose  walls  the 
large  breaches  made  by  Charles  after  the  battle  of  St.  Tron 
are  still  unrepaired  ;  so  that  the  lances  of  Hainault,  Brabant, 
and  Burgundy  may  advance  to  the  attack  twenty  men  in 
front?" 

"The  improvident  idiots!"  said  the  King.  "If  they 
have  thus  neglected  their  own  safety,  they  deservQ  not  my 
protection.     Pass  on  ;  I  will  make  no  quarrel  for  their  sake." 

"The  next  point,  I  fear,  will  sit  closer  to  your  Majesty's 
heart,"  said  Des  Comines. 

"  Ah  ! "  replied  the  King,  "  you  mean  that  infernal  mar- 
riage !  I  will  not  consent  to  the  breach  of  the  contract 
betwixt  my  daughter  Joan  and  my  cousin  of  Orleans ;  it 
would  be  wresting  the  scepter  of  France  from  me  and  my 
posterity,  for  that  feeble  boy  the  Dauphin  is  a  blighted  blos- 
som, which  will  wither  without  fruit.  This  match  between 
Joan  and  Orleans  has  been  my  thought  by  day,  my  dream  by 
night.  I  tell  thee.  Sir  Philip,  I  cannot  give  it  up  !  Besides, 
it  is  inhuman  to  require  me,  with  my  own  hand,  to  destroy 
at  once  my  own  scheme  of  policy  and  the  happiness  of  a  pair 
brought  up  for  each  other." 

"Are  they  then  so  much  attached  ?"  said  Des  Comines. 

"  One  of  them  at  least  is,"  said  the  King,  "  and  the  one 


QUENTIN  DUE  WARD  35€ 

for  whom  I  am  bound  to  be  most  anxious.  But  you  smile. 
Sir  Philip,  you  are  no  believer  in  the  force  of  love/' 

"  Nay,"  said  Des  Comines,  '^  if  it  please  you,  sire,  I  am  so 
little  an  infidel  in  that  particular  that  I  was  about  to  ask 
whether  it  would  reconcile  you  in  any  degree  to  your  acqui- 
escing in  the  proposed  marriage  betwixt  the  Duke  of  Orleans 
and  Isabelle  de  Croye,  were  I  to  satisfy  you  that  the  countess's 
inclinations  are  so  much  fixed  on  another  that  it  is  likely  it 
will  never  be  a  match  ?  " 

King  Louis  sighed.  '^  Alas  ! "  he  said,  "  my  good  and 
dear  friend,  from  what  sepulcher  have  you  drawn  such  dead 
man's  comfort  ?  Jler  inclination,  indeed  !  Why,  to  speak 
truth,  supposing  that  Orleans  detested  my  daughter  Joan, 
yet,  but  for  this  ill-raveled  web  of  mischance,  he  must  needs 
have  married  her  ;  so  you  may  conjecture  how  little  chance 
there  is  of  this  damsel  being  able  to  refuse  him  under  a 
similar  compulsion,  and  he  a  child  of  France  besides.  Ah, 
no,  Philip  !  little  fear  of  her  standing  obstinate  against  the 
suit  of  such  a  lover.      Varium  et  mutabile,  Philip." 

"Your  Majesty  may,  in  the  present  instance,  undervalue 
the  obstinate  courage  of  this  young  lady.  She  comes  of  a 
race  determinately  wilful  ;  and  I  have  picked  out  of  Creve- 
coeur  that  she  has  formed  a  romantic  attachment  to  a  young 
squire,  who,  to  say  truth,  rendered  her  many  services  on  the 
road." 

^*  Ha ! "  said  the  King,  "  an  archer  of  my  Guards,  by 
name  Quentin  Durward  ?  " 

"  The  same,  as  I  think,"  said  Des  Comines ;  *^  he  was 
made  prisoner  along  with  the  countess,  traveling  almost 
alone  together." 

'^Now,  Our  Lord  and  Our  Lady,  and  Monseigneur  St. 
Martin,  and  Monseigneur  St.  Julian  be  praised  every  one  of 
them!"  said  the  King,  ''and  all  laud  and  honor  to  the 
learned  Galeotti,  who  read  in  the  stars  that  his  youth's  des- 
tiny was  connected  with  mine !  If  the  maiden  be  so 
attached  to  him  as  to  make  her  refractory  to  the  will  of 
Burgundy,  this  Quentin  hath  indeed  been  rarely  useful  to 
me." 

''  I  believe,  my  lord,"  answered  the  Burgundian,  "  accord- 
ing to  Or^vecoeur's  report,  that  there  is  some  chance  of  her 
being  sufficiently  obstinate ;  besides,  doubtless,  the  noble 
Duke  himself,  notwithstanding  what  your  Majesty  was 
pleased  to  hint  in  way  of  supposition,  will  not  willingly  re- 
nounce his  fair  cousin,  to  whom  he  has  been  long  engaged." 

"Umphl"  answered  the  King.     ''But  you  have  never 


360  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

seen  my  daughter  Joan.  A  howlet,  man  !— an  absolute  owi, 
whom  I  am  ashamed  of  !  But  let  him  be  only  a  wise  man, 
and  marry  her,  I  will  give  him  leave  to  be  mad  jjar  amours 
for  the  fairest  lady  in  France.  And  now,  Philip,  have  you 
given  me  the  full  map  of  your  master's  mind  ? '' 

*'  I  have  possessed  you,  sire,  of  those  particulars  on  which 
he  is  at  present  most  disposed  to  insist.  But  your  Majesty 
well  knows  that  the  Duke's  disposition  is  like  a  sweeping 
torrent,  which  only  passes  smoothly  forward  when  its  waves 
encounter  no  opposition  ;  and  what  may  be  presented  to 
chafe  him  into  fury,  it  is  impossible  even  to  guess.  Were 
more  distinct  evidence  of  your  Majesty's  practises — pardon 
the  phrase,  where  there  is  so  little  time  for  selection — with 
the  Liegeois  and  William  de  la  Marck  to  occur  unexpectedly, 
the  issue  might  be  terrible.  There  are  strange  news  from 
that  country :  they  say  La  Marck  hath  married  Hameline 
the  elder  Countess  of  Croye." 

''  That  old  fool  was  so  mad  on  marriage  that  she  would 
have  accepted  the  hand  of  Satan,"  said  the  King  ;  '*  but 
that  La  Marck,  beast  as  he  is,  should  have  married  her 
rather  more  surprises  me." 

*' There  is  a  report  also,"  continued  Des  Comines,  **  that 
an  envoy,  or  herald,  on  La  Marck's  part,  is  approaching 
Peronne  ;  this  is  like  to  drive  the  Duke  frantic  with  rage. 
I  trust  that  he  has  no  letters,  or  the  like,  to  show  on  your 
Majesty's  part  ?  " 

*'  Letters  to  a  Wild  Boar  !"  answered  the  King.  **  No — 
no.  Sir  Philip,  I  was  no  such  fool  as  to  cast  pearls  before 
swine.  What  little  intercourse  I  had  with  the  brute  animal 
was  by  message,  in  which  I  always  employed  such  low-bred 
slaves  and  vagabonds  that  their  evidence  would  not  be  re- 
ceived in  a  trial  for  robbing  a  hen-roost." 

*' I  can  then  only  further  recommend,"  said  Des  Comines, 
taking  his  leave,  ''  that  your  Majesty  should  remain  on  your 
guard,  be  guided  by  events,  and,  above  all,  avoid  using  any 
language  or  argument  with  the  Duke  which  may  better  be- 
come your  dignity  than  your  present  condition." 

"  If  my  dignity,"  said  the  King,  *'  grow  troublesome  to 
me,  which  it  seldom  doth  while  there  are  deeper  interests  to 
think  of,  I  have  a  special  remedy  for  that  swelling  of  the 
heart.  It  is  but  looking  into  a  certain  ruinous  closet.  Sir 
Philip,  and  thinking  of  the  death  of  Charles  the  Simple  ; 
and  it  cures  me  as  effectually  as  the  cold  btith  would  cool  a 
fever.  And  now,  my  friend  and  monitor,  must  thou  be 
gone  ?    Well,  Sir  Philip,  the  time  must  come  when  thou  wilt 


qUENTIN  DURWABB  861 

tire  reading  lessons  of  state  policy  to  the  Bull  of  Bnrgundy, 
who  is  incapable  of  comprehending  your  most  simple  argu- 
ment. If  Louis  of  Valois  then  lives,  thou  hast  a  friend  in 
the  court  of  France.  I  tell  thee,  my  Philip,  it  would  be  a 
blessing  to  my  kingdom  should  I  ever  acquire  thee,  who, 
with  a  profound  view  of  subjects  of  state,  hast  also  a  con- 
science capable  of  feeling  and  discerning  between  right  and 
wrong.  So  help  me.  Our  Lord  and  Lady,  and  Monseigneur 
St.  Martin,  Oliver  and  Balue  have  hearts  as  hardened  as  the 
nether  millstone ;  and  my  life  is  embittered  by  remorse  and 
penances  for  the  crimes  they  make  me  commit.  Thou,  Sir 
Philip,  possessed  of  the  wisdom  of  present  and  past  times, 
canst  teach  how  to  become  great  without  ceasing  to  be  vir- 
tuous." 

'^  A  hard  task,  and  which  few  have  attained,"  said  the 
historian,  "■  but  which  is  yet  within  the  reach  of  princes  who 
will  strive  for  it.  Meantime,  sire,  be  prepared,  for  the  Duke 
will  presently  confer  with  you." 

Louis  looked  long  after  Philip  when  he  left  the  apartment, 
and  at  length  burst  into  a  bitter  laugh.  **He  spoke  of  fishing 
— I  have  sent  him  home,  a  trout  properly  tickled  !  And  he 
thinks  himself  virtuous  because  he  took  no  bribe,  but  con- 
tented himself  with  flattery  and  promises,  and  the  pleasure 
of  avenging  an  affront  to  his  vanity  !  Why,  he  is  but  so 
much  the  poorer  for  the  refusal  of  the  money,  not  a  jot  the 
more  honest.  He  must  be  mine,  though,  for  he  hath  the 
shrewdest  head  among  them.  Well,  now  for  nobler  game  ! 
I  am  to  face  this  leviathan  Charles,  who  will  presently  swim 
hitherward,  cleaving  the  deep  before  him.  I  must,  like  a 
trembling  sailor,  throw  a  tub  overboard  to  amuse  him.  But 
I  may  one  day  find  the  chance — of  driving  a  harpoon  into 
his  entrails  ! "  * 

*  See  Philip  des  Comines.    Note  45. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

THE  INTERVIEW 

Hold  fast  thy  truth,  young  soldier.     Gentle  maiden. 
Keep  you  your  promise  plight ;  leave  age  its  subtleties, 
And  gray-hair'd  policy  its  maze  of  falsehood  ; 
But  be  you  candid  as  the  morning  sky, 
Ere  the  high  sun  sucks  vapors  up  to  stain  it. 

The  Trial, 

On"  the  perilous  and  important  morning  which  preceded  the 
meeting  of  the  two  princes  in  the  Castle  of  Peronne,  Oliver 
le  Dain  did  his  master  the  service  of  an  active  and  skilful 
agent,  making  interest  for  Louis  in  every  quarter,  both  with 
presents  and  promises  ;  so  that,  when  the  Duke's  anger 
should  blaze  forth,  all  around  should  be  interested  to 
smother,  and  not  to  increase,  the  conflagration.  He  glided, 
like  night,  from  tent  to  tent,  from  house  to  house,  making 
himself  friends,  but  not,  in  the  Apostle's  sense,  with  the 
Mammon  of  unrighteousness.  As  was  said  of  another  active 
political  agent,  ^'^His  finger  was  in  every  man's  palm,  his 
mouth  was  in  every  man's  ear";  and  for  various  reasons, 
some  of  which  we  have  formerly  hinted  at,  he  secured  the 
favor  of  many  Burgundian  nobles,  who  either  had  some- 
thing to  hope  or  fear  from  France,  or  who  thought  that, 
were  the  power  of  Louis  too  much  reduced,  their  own  duke 
would  be  likely  to  pursue  the  road  to  despotic  authority,  to 
which  his  heart  naturally  inclined  him,  with  a  daring  and 
unopposed  pace. 

Where  Oliver  suspected  his  own  presence  or  arguments 
might  be  less  acceptable,  he  employed  that  of  other  servants 
of  the  King  ;  and  it  was  in  this  manner  that  he  obtained, 
by  the  favor  of  the  Count  de  Crdvecoeur,  an  interview  be- 
twixt Lord  Crawford,  accompanied  by  Le  Balafre,  and 
Quentin  Durward,  who,  since  he  had  arrived  at  Peronne, 
had  been  detained  in  a  sort  of  honorable  confinement. 
Private  affairs  were  assigned  as  the  cause  of  requesting  this 
meeting  ;  but  it  is  probable  that  Cr^vecoeur,  who  was  afraid 
that  his  master  might  be  stirred  up  in  passion  to  do  some- 
thing dishonorably  violent  towards  Louis,  was  not  sorry  to 

362 


Q UENTIN  D  UR  WARD  30!t 

afford  an  opportunity  to  Crawford  to  give  some  hints  to  the 
young  archer  which  might  prove  useful  to  his  master. 

The  meeting  between  the  countrymen  was  cordial,  and 
even  affecting. 

^'  Thou  art  a  singular  youth/*  said  Crawford,,  stroking  the 
head  of  young  Durward  as  a  grandsire  might  do  that  of  his 
descendant.  '^  Certes,  you  have  had  as  meikle  good  fortune 
as  if  you  had  been  born  with  a  lucky  hood  on  your  head.** 

''All  comes  of  his  gaining  an  archer*s  place  at  such  early 
years/*  said  Le  Balafre  ;  ''  I  never  was  so  much  talked  of, 
fair  nephew,  because  I  was  five-and-twenty  years  old  before 
I  was  hors  de  page." 

^'  And  an  ill-looking  mountainous  monster  of  a  page  thou 
wert,  Ludovic,**  said  the  old  commander,  ''with  a  beard  like 
a  baker*s  shool,  and  a  back  like  old  Wallace  Wight.*' 

"  I  fear,**  said  Quentin,  with  downcast  eyes,  "  I  shall 
enjoy  that  title  to  distinction  but  a  short  time,  since  it  is  my 
purpose  to  resign  the  service  of  the  Archer  Guard.** 

Le  Balafre  was  struck  almost  mute  with  astonishment, 
and  Crawford*s  ancient  features  gleamed  with  displeasure. 
The  former  at  length  mustered  words  enough  to  say,  "  Re- 
sign ! — leave  your  place  in  the  Scottish  Archers  !  such  a 
thing  was  never  dreamt  of.  I  would  not  give  up  my  situa- 
tion, to  be  made  Constable  of  France.** 

"  Elush  !  Ludovic,**  said  Crawford  ;  "  this  youngster 
knows  better  how  to  shape  his  course  with  the  wind  than  we 
of  the  old  world  do.  His  journey  hath  given  him  some  pretty 
tales  to  tell  about  King  Louis ;  and  he  is  turning  Burgun- 
dian,  that  he  may  make  his  own  little  profit  by  telling  them 
to  Duke  Charles.** 

"If  I  thought  so,**  said  Le  Balafr^,  "I  would  cut  his 
throat  with  my  own  hand,  were  he  fifty  times  my  si8ter*8 
son  !  ** 

"  But  you  would  first  inquire  whether  I  deserved  to  be  so 
treated,  fair  kinsman  ?  *'  answered  Quentin.  "  And  you,  my 
lord,  know  that  I  am  no  tale-bearer  ;  nor  shall  either  ques- 
tion or  torture  draw  out  of  me  a  word  to  King  Louis*s  prej- 
udice which  may  have  come  to  my  knowledge  while  I  was 
in  his  service.  So  far  my  oath  of  duty  keeps  me  silent. 
But  I  will  not  remain  in  that  service,  in  which,  besides  the 
perils  of  fair  battle  with  mine  enemies,  I  am  to  be  exposed 
to  the  dangers  of  ambuscade  on  the  part  of  my  friends.** 

"  Nay,  if  he  objects  to  lying  in  ambuscade,**  said  the  slow- 
witted  *Le  Balafre,  looking  sorrowfully  at  the  Lord  Craw- 
ford, "  I  am  afraid,  my  lord,  that  all  is  over  with  him  !    1 


064  WAV ERLEY  NOVELS 

myself  have  had  thirty  bnshments  break  upon  me,  and  truly 
I  think  I  have  laid  in  ambuscade  twice  as  often  myself,  it 
being  a  favorite  practise  in  our  King's  mode  of  making 
war." 

''It  is  so,  indeed,  Ludovic/'  answered  Lord  Crawford  ; 
'*  nevertheless,  hold  your  peace,  for  I  believe  I  understand 
this  gear  better  than  you  do/' 

"  I  wish  to  Our  Lady  you  may,  my  lord,''  answered  Lu- 
dovic  ;  ''but  it  wounds  me  to  the  very  midriff  to  think  my 
sister's  son  should  fear  an  ambushment." 

"  Young  man,"  said  Crawford,  "  I  partly  guess  your  mean- 
ing. You  have  met  foul  play  on  the  road  where  you  traveled 
by  the  King's  command,  and  you  think  you  have  reason  to 
charge  him  with  being  the  author  of  it  ?" 

"I  have  been  threatened  with  foul  play  in  the  execution  of 
the  King's  commission,"  answered  Quentin  ;  "but  I  have 
had  the  good  fortune  to  elude  it ;  whether  his  Majesty  be 
innocent  or  guilty  in  the  matter,  I  leave  to  God  and  his  own 
conscience.  He  fed  me  when  I  was  a-hungered,  received 
me  when  I  was  a  wandering  stranger  ;  I  will  never  load  him 
in  his  adversity  with  accusations  which  may  indeed  be  un- 
just, since  I  heard  them  only  from  the  vilest  mouths." 

"  My  dear  boy — my  own  lad  !"  said  Crawford,  taking  him 
in  his  arms,  "  ye  think  like  a  Scot,  every  joint  of  you  !  Like 
one  that  will  forget  a  cause  of  quarrel  with  a  friend  whose 
back  is  already  at  the  wall,  and  remember  nothing  of  him 
but  his  kindness." 

"  Since  my  Lord  Crawford  has  embraced  my  nephew," 
said  Ludovic  Lesly,  "  I  will  embrace  him  also,  though  I 
would  have  you  to  know,  that  to  understand  the  service  of 
an  ambushment  is  as  necessary  to  a  soldier  as  it  is  to  a  priest 
to  be  able  to  read  his  breviary." 

"Be  hushed,  Ludovic,"  said  Crawford;  "ye  are  an  ass, 
my  friend,  and  ken  not  the  blessing  Heaven  has  sent  you  in 
this  braw  callant.  And  now  tell  me,  Quentin,  my  man, 
hath  the  King  any  advice  of  this  brave.  Christian,  and  manly 
resoultion  of  yours  ?  for,  poor  man,  he  had  need,  in  his  strait, 
to  ken  what  he  has  to  reckon  upon.  Had  he  but  brought 
the  whole  brigade  of  Guards  with  him — but  God's  will  be 
done  I    Kens  he  of  your  purpose,  think  you  ?  " 

"  I  really  can  hardly  tell,"  answered  Quentin  ;  "  but  I 
asBured  his  learned  astrologer,  Martins  Galeotti,  of  my  res- 
olution to  be  silent  on  all  that  could  injure  the  King  with 
the  Dake  of  Burgundy.  The  particulars  which  I  suspect  I 
will  not— under  your  favor — communicate  even  to  your  lord- 


qUENTIN  DURWARD  365 

ship  ;  and  to  the  philosopher  I  was,  of  course,  far  less  will- 
ing to  unfold  myself." 

'^  Ha  ! — ay  !  "  answered  Lord  Crawford.  **  Oliver  did 
indeed  tell  me  that  Galeotti  prophesied  most  stoutly  con- 
cerning the  line  of  conduct  you  were  to  hold ;  and  I  am 
truly  glad  to  find  he  did  so  on  better  authority  than  the 
stars/' 

''  He  prophesy  I"  said  Le  Balafre,  laughing.  *'  The  stars 
never  told  him  that  honest  Ludovic  Lesly  used  to  help 
yonder  wench  of  his  to  spend  the  fair  ducats  he  flings  into 
her  lap." 

"Hush  !  Ludovic," said  his  captain — "hush  !  thou  beast, 
man  !  If  thou  dost  not  respect  my  gray  hairs,  because  I  have 
been  e'en  too  much  of  a  routier  myself,  respect  the  boy's 
youth  and  innocence,  and  let  us  have  no  more  of  such  un- 
becoming daffing." 

"Your  honor  may  say  your  pleasure,''  answered  Ludovic 
Lesly  ;  "  but,  by  my  faith,  second-sighted  Saunders  Sou  pie- 
jaw,  the  town-souter  of  Glen  Houlakin,  was  worth  Gallotti,  or 
Gallipotty,  or  whatever  ye  call  him,  twice  told,  for  a  prophet. 
He  foretold  that  all  my  sister's  children  would  die  some 
day  ;  and  he  foretold  it  in  the  very  hour  that  the  young- 
est was  born,  and  that  is  this  lad  Quentin,  who,  no  doubt, 
will  one  day  die,  to  make  up  the  prophecy — the  more's  the 
pity  ;  the  whole  curney  of  them  is  gone  but  himself.  And 
Saunders  foretold  to  myself  one  day,  that  I  should  be  made 
by  marriage,  which  doubtless  will  also  happen  in  due  time, 
though  it  hath  not  yet  come  to  pass,  though  how  or  when, 
I  can  hardly  guess,  as  I  care  not  myself  for  the  wedded 
state,  and  Quentin  is  but  a  lad.  Also,  Saunders  pre- 
dicted  " 

"  Nay,"  said  Lord  Crawford,  "  unless  the  prediction  be 
singularly  to  the  purpose,  I  must  cut  you  short,  my  good 
Ludovic  ;  for  both  you  and  I  must  now  leave  your  nephew, 
with  prayers  to  Our  Lady  to  strengthen  him  in  the  good  mind 
he  is  in  ;  for  this  is  a  case  in  which  a  light  word  might  do 
more  mischief  than  all  the  Parliament  of  Paris  could  mend. 
My  blessing  with  you,  my  lad  ;  and  be  in  no  hurry  to  think 
of  leaving  our  body,  for  there  will  be  good  blows  going  pres- 
ently in  the  eye  of  day,  and  no  ambuscade." 

"  And  my  blessing  too,  nephew,"  said  Ludovic  Lesly ; 
"  for,  since  you  have  satisfied  our  most  noble  captain,  I  also 
am  satisfied,  as  in  duty  bound." 

"  Stay,  my  lord,"  said  Quentin,  and  led  Lord  Crawford  a 
little  apart  from  his  uncle.     "  I  must  not  forget  to  mention 


366  WA  VEBLET  NOVELS 

that  there  is  a  person  besides  in  the  world,  who,  having 
learned  from  me  these  circumstances  which  it  is  essential  to 
King  Louisas  safety  should  at  present  remain  concealed,  may 
not  think  that  the  same  obligation  of  secrecy  which  attaches 
to  me  as  the  King's  soldier,  and  as  having  been  relieved  by 
his  bounty,  is  at  all  binding  on  her/' 

^^  On  her  !  ''  replied  Crawford  ;  "  nay,  if  there  be  a  woman 
in  the  secret,  the  Lord  ha'  mercy,  for  we  are  all  on  the  rocks 
again  ! " 

^'  Do  not  suppose  so,  my  lord,''  replied  Durward,  "  but 
use  your  interest  with  the  Count  of  Crevecoeur  to  permit  me 
an  interview  with  the  Countess  Isabelle  of  Croye,  who  is  the 
party  possessed  of  my  secret,  and  I  doubt  not  that  I  can 
persuade  her  to  be  as  silent  as  I  shall  unquestionably  myself 
remain  concerning  whatever  may  incense  the  Duke  against 
King  Louis." 

The  old  soldier  mused  for  a  long  time,  looked  up  to  the 
ceiling,  then  down  again  upon  the  floor,  then  shook  his 
head,  and  at  length  said,  ^'  There  is  something  in  all  this 
which,  by  my  honor,  I  do  not  understand.  The  Countess 
Isabelle  of  Croye  !  an  interview  with  a  lady  of  her  birth, 
blood,  and  possessions,  and  thou,  a  raw  Scottish  lad,  so 
certain  of  carrying  thy  point  with  her  !  Thou  art  either 
strangely  confident,  my  young  friend,  or  else  you  have  used 
your  time  well  upon  the  journey.  But,  by  the  cross  of  St. 
Andrew  !  I  will  move  Crevecoeur  in  thy  behalf ;  and,  as  he 
truly  fears  that  Duke  Charles  may  be  provoked  against  the 
King  to  the  extremity  of  falling  foul,  I  think  it  likely  he 
may  grant  thy  request,  though,  by  my  honor,  it  is  a  comical 
one." 

So  saying,  and  shrugging  up  his  shoulders,  the  old  lord 
left  the  apartment,  followed  by  Ludovic  Lesly,  who,  forming 
his  looks  on  those  of  his  principal,  endeavored,  though 
knowing  nothing  of  the  cause  of  his  wonder,  to  look  as 
mysterious  and  important  as  Crawford  himself. 

In  a  few  minutes  Crawford  returned,  but  without  his 
attendant  Le  Balafre.  The  old  man  seemed  in  singular 
humor,  laughing  and  chuckling  to  himself  in  a  manner  which 
strangely  distorted  his  stern  and  rigid  features,  and  at  the 
same  time  shaking  his  head,  as  at  something  which  he  could 
not  help  condemning,  while  he  found  it  irresistibly  ludicrous. 
'*  My  certeSi,  countryman,"  said  he,  "but  you  are  not  blate  : 
you  will  never  lose  fair  lady  for  faint  heart !  Crevecoeur 
swallowed  your  proposal  as  he  would  have  done  a  cup  of 
vinegar,  and  swore  to  me  roundly,  by  all  the  saints  in  6ur- 


Q UENTIN  D UR  WARD  367 

gundy,  that  were  less  than  the  honorof  princes  and  the  peace 
of  kingdoms  at  stake,  you  should  never  see  even  so  much  as 
the  print  of  the  Countess  Isabeile's  foot  on  the  clay.  Were 
it  not  that  he  had  a  dame,  and  a  fair  one,  I  would  have 
thought  that  he  meant  to  break  a  lance  for  the  prize  himself. 
Perhaps  he  thinks  of  his  nephew,  the  County  Stephen.  A 
countess  !  would  no  less  serve  you  to  be  mxinting  at  ?  But 
come  along ;  your  interview  with  her  must  be  brief.  But  I 
fancy  you  know  how  to  make  the  most  of  little  time — ho  ! 
ho  !  ho  !  By  my  faith,  1  can  hardly  chide  thee  for  the 
presumption,  I  have  such  a  good  will  to  laugh  at  it  ! " 

With  a  brow  like  scarlet,  at  once  offended  and  disconcerted 
by  the  blunt  inferences  of  the  old  soldier,  and  vexed  at  be- 
holding in  what  an  absurd  light  his  passion  was  viewed  by 
every  person  of  experience,  Durward  followed  Lord  Crawford 
in  silence  to  the  Ursuline  convent,  in  which  the  countess 
was  lodged,  and  in  the  parlor  of  which  he  found  the  Count 
de  Crevecoeur. 

"  So,  young  gallant, *'  said  the  latter,  sternly,  "  you  must 
see  the  fair  companion  of  your  romantic  expedition  once 
more,  it  seems  ?  " 

'*  Yes,  my  lord  count, ^'  answered  Quentin,  firmly  ;  ''  and 
what  is  more,  I  must  see  her  alone. ^' 

"That  shall  never  be,"  said  the  Count  de  Crevecoeur. 
"  Lord  Crawford,  I  make  you  judge.  This  young  lady,  the 
daughter  of  my  old  friend  and  companion  in  arms,  the  richest 
heiress  in  Burgundy,  has  confessed  a  sort  of  a — what  was  I 
going  to  say  ? — in  short,  she  is  a  fool,  and  your  man-at-arms 
here  a  presumptuous  coxcomb.  In  a  word,  they  shall  not 
meet  alone.*' 

"  Then  will  I  not  speak  a  single  word  to  the  countess  in 
your  presence,"  said  Quentin,  much  delighted.  ''  You  have 
told  me  much  that  I  did  not  dare,  presumptuous  as  I  may 
be,  even  to  hope." 

"  Ay,  truly  said,  my  friend,"  said  Crawford.  "  You  have 
been  imprudent  in  your  communications  ;  and,  since  you 
refer  to  me,  and  there  is  a  good  stout  grating  across  the 
parlor,  I  would  advise  you  to  trust  to  it,  and  let  them  do 
the  worst  with  their  tongues.  What,  man  !  the  life  of  a 
king,  and  many  thousands  besides,  is  not  to  be  weighed  with 
the  chance  of  two  young  things  whillywhawing  in  ilk  other's 
ears  for  a  minute  ?  " 

So  saying,  he  dragged  off  Crevecoeur,  who  followed  very 
reluctantly,  and  cast  many  angry  glances  at  the  young  archer 
as  he  left  the  room. 


S68  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

In  a  moment  after  the  Countess  Isabelle  entered  on  the 
other  side  of  the  grate,  and  no  sooner  saw  Quentin  alone  in 
the  parlor  than  she  stopped  short,  and  cast  her  eyes  on  the 
ground  for  the  space  of  half  a  minute.  "  Yet  why  should  I 
be  ungrateful,^'  she  said,  *'  because  others  are  unjustly  sus- 
picious ?  My  friend — my  preserver,  I  may  almost  say,  so 
much  haye  I  been  beset  by  treachery — my  only  faithful  and 
constant  friend  ! " 

As  she  spoke  thus,  she  extended  her  hand  to  him  through 
the  grate,  nay,  suffered  him  to  retain  it  until  he  had  covered 
it  with  kisses,  not  unmingled  with  tears.  She  only  said, 
*'Durward,  were  we  ever  to  meet  again,  I  would  not  permit 
this  folly.'' 

If  it  be  considered  that  Quentin  had  guarded  her  through 
so  many  perils,  that  he  had  been,  in  truth,  her  only  faithful 
and  zealous  protector,  perhaps  my  fair  readers,  even  if  coun- 
tesses and  heiresses  should  be  of  the  number,  will  pardon  the 
derogation. 

But  the  countess  extricated  her  hand  at  length,  and  step- 
ping a  pace  back  from  the  grate,  asked  Durward,  in  a  very  em- 
barrassed tone,  what  boon  he  had  to  ask  of  her  ?  "  For  that 
you  have  a  request  to  make  I  have  learned  from  the  old 
Scottish  lord,  who  came  here  but  now  with  my  cousin  of 
Crevecoeur.  Let  it  be  but  reasonable,''  she  said,  "  but  such 
as  poor  Isabelle  can  grant  with  duty  and  honor  uninfringed, 
and  you  cannot  tax  my  slender  powers  too  highly.  But  0  I 
do  not  speak  hastily  ;  do  not  say,"  she  added,  looking  around 
with  timidity,  '*  aught  that  might,  if  overheard,  to  prejudice 
to  us  both  I " 

"Fear  not,  noble  lady,"  said  Quentin,  sorrowfully  ;  "  it  is 
not  here  that  I  can  forget  the  distance  which  fate  has  placed 
between  us,  or  expose  you  to  the  censure  of  your  proud  kin- 
dred as  the  object  of  the  most  devoted  love  to  one,  poorer 
and  less  powerful,  not  perhaps  less  noble,  than  themselves. 
Let  that  pass  like  a  dream  of  the  night  to  all  but  one  bosom, 
where,  dream  as  it  is,  it  will  fill  up  the  room  of  all  existing 
realities." 

"  Hush — hush  !"  said  Isabelle  ;  "  for  your  own  sake,  for 
mine,  be  silent  on  such  a  theme.  Tell  me  rather  what  it  is 
you  have  to  ask  of  me." 

"Forgiveness to  one,"  replied  Quentin,  "who,  for  his  own 
selfish  views,  hath  conducted  himself  as  your  enemy." 

"  I  trust  I  forgive  all  my  enemies,"  answered  Isabelle ; 
"  but  oh,  Durward  I  through  what  scenes  have  your  courage 
and  presence  of  mind  protected  me  1    Yonder  bloody  hall  I 


QUENTIN  nURWAJRD  36S 

the  good  bishop  I     I  knew  not  till  yesterday  half  the  horrors 
I  had  unconsciously  witnessed." 

*^  Do  not  think  on  them/'  said  Quentin,  who  saw  the  tran- 
sient color  which  had  come  to  her  cheek  during  conference 
fast  fading  into  the  most  deadly  paleness.  '*  Do  not  look 
back,  but  look  steadily  forward,  as  they  needs  must  who  walk 
in  a  perilous  road.  Hearken  to  me.  King  Louis  deserves 
nothing  better  at  your  hand,  of  all  others,  than  to  be  pro- 
claimed the  wily  and  insidious  politican  which  he  really  is. 
But  to  tax  him  as  the  encourager  of  your  flight,  still  more  as 
the  author  of  a  plan  to  throw  you  into  the  hands  of  De  la 
Marck,  will  at  this  moment  produce  perhaps  the  King's  death 
or  dethronement  ;  and,  at  all  events,  the  most  bloody  war 
between  France  and  Burgundy  which  the  two  countries  have 
ever  been  emgaged  in." 

'*  These  evils  shall  not  arrive  for  my  sake,  if  they  can  be 
prevented,"  said  the  Countess  Isabelle  ;  ''  and  indeed  your 
slightest  request  were  enough  to  make  me  forego  my  revenge, 
were  that  at  any  time  a  passion  which  I  deeply  cherish.  Is 
it  possible  I  would  rather  remember  King  Louis's  injuries 
than  your  invaluable  services  ?  Yet  how  is  this  to  be  ? 
When  I  am  called  before  my  sovereign,  the  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, I  must  either  stand  silent  or  speak  the  truth.  The 
former  would  be  contumacy  ;  and  to  a  false  tale  you  will  not 
desire  me  to  train  my  tongue." 

"  Surely  not,"  said  Durward  ;  '^  but  let  your  evidence  con- 
cerning Louis  be  confined  to  what  you  yourself  positively 
know  to  be  truth  ;  and  when  you  mention  what  others  have 
reported,  no  matter  how  credibly,  let  it  be  as  reports  only, 
and  beware  of  pledging  your  own  personal  evidence  to  that 
which,  though  you  may  fully  believe,  you  cannot  personally 
know,  to  be  true.  The  assembled  council  of  Burgundy  can- 
not refuse  to  a  monarch  the  justice  which  in  my  country  is 
rendered  to  the  meanest  person  under  accusation.  They 
must  esteem  him  innocent  until  direct  and  sufficient  proof 
shall  demonstrate  his  guilt.  Now,  what  does  not  consist 
with  your  own  certain  knowledge  should  be  proved  by 
other  evidence  than  your  report  from  hearsay." 

'*  I  think  I  understand  you,"  said  the  Countess  Isabelle. 

"  I  will  make  my  meaning  plainer,"  said  Quentin  ;  and  was 
illustrating  it  accordingly  by  more  than  one  instance,  when 
the  convent-bell  tolled. 

''  That,"  said  the  countess,  ''  is  a  signal  that  we  must  part 
— part   forever  !     But  do  not  forget  me,  Durward ;  I  wil] 

Jiever  forget  you  ;  your  faithful  gervices " 

84 


370  WA  VERLEY  NO  VEL8 

She  could  not  speak  more,  but  again  extended  her  hand, 
which  was  again  pressed  to  his  lips  ;  and  I  know  not  how  it 
was  that,  in  endeavoring  to  withdraw  her  hand,  the  countess 
came  so  close  to  the  grating  that  Quentin  was  encouraged  to 
press  the  adieu  on  her  lips.  The  young  lady  did  not  chide 
him  ;  perhaps  there  was  no  time,  for  Cr^vecoeur  and  Craw- 
ford, who  had  been  from  some  loop-hole  eye-witnesses,  if 
not  ear-witnesses  also,  of  what  was  passing,  rushed  into  the 
apartment,  the  first  in  a  towering  passion,  the  latter  laugh- 
ing and  holding  the  count  back. 

**  To  your  chamber,  young  mistress — to  your  chamber  ! '' 
exclaimed  the  count  to  Isabelle,  who,  flinging  down  her  veil, 
retired  in  all  haste,  '^  which  should  be  exchanged  for  a  cell 
and  bread  and  water.  And  you,  gentle  sir,  who  are  so  mal- 
apert, the  time  will  come  when  the  interests  of  kings  and 
kingdoms  may  not  be  connected  with  such  as  you  are  ;  and 
you  shall  then  learn  the  penalty  of  your  audacity  in  raising 
your  beggarly  eyes " 

'^Hush — hush  !  enough  said — rein  up — rein  up,"  said  the 
old  lord;  "and you, Quentin,  I  command  you,  be  silent,  and 
begone  to  your  quarters.  There  is  no  such  room  for  so  much 
Bcorn  neither.  Sir  Count  of  Crevecceur,  that  I  must  say  now 
he  is  out  of  hearing.  Quentin  Durward  is  as  much  a  gentle- 
man as  the  King,  only,  as  the  Spaniards  says,  not  so  rich. 
He  is  as  noble  as  myself,  and  I  am  chief  of  my  name.  Tush, 
tush  !  man,  you  must  not  speak  to  us  of  penalties." 

"  My  lord — my  lord,"  said  Creveoeur,  impatiently,  "the 
insolence  of  these  foreign  mercenaries  is  proverbial,  and 
should  receive  rather  rebuke  than  encouragement  from  you, 
who  are  their  leader." 

"  My  lord  count,"  answered  Crawford,  "  I  have  ordered 
my  command  for  these  fifty  years  without  advice  either  from 
Frenchmen  or  Burgundian  ;  and  I  intend  to  do  so,  under 
your  favor,  so  long  as  I  shall  continue  to  hold  it." 

"Well — well,  my  lord,"  said  Creveoeur,  "I  meant  you  no 
disrespect ;  your  nobleness,  as  well  as  your  age,  entitle  you 
to  be  privileged  in  your  impatience  ;  and  for  these  young 
people,  I  am  satisfied  to  overlook  the  past,  since  I  will  take 
care  that  they  never  meet  again." 

"Do  not  take  that  upon  your  salvation,  Crdvecoeur,"  said 
the  old  lord,  laughing ;  "  mountains,  it  is  said,  may  meet, 
and  why  not  mortal  creatures,  that  have  legs,  and  life  and 
love  to  put  these  legs  in  motion  ?  Yon  kiss,  Cr^vecoeur, 
came  tenderly  off  ;  methinks  it  was  ominous." 

"You  are  striving  again  to  disturb  my  patience,''  said 


Q UENTIN  D UR  WARD  371 

Or^vecoenr,  "  but  I  will  not  give  you  that  advantage  over 
me.  Hark  !  they  toll  the  summons  to  the  castle  :  an  awful 
meeting,  of  which  God  can  only  foretell  the  issue/^ 

*'  This  issue  I  can  foretell/'  said  the  old  Scottish  lord, 
''  that  if  violence  is  to  be  offered  to  the  person  of  the  King, 
few  as  his  friends  are,  and  surrounded  by  his  enemies,  he 
shall  neither  fall  alone  nor  unrevenged  ;  and  grieved  I  am 
that  his  own  positive  orders  have  prevented  my  taking  meas- 
ures  to  prepare  for  such  an  issue/' 

'*  My  Lord  of  Crawford,"  said  the  Burgundian,  "  to  antic- 
ipate such  evil  is  the  sure  way  to  give  occasion  to  it.  Obey 
the  orders  of  your  royal  master,  and  give  no  pretext  for 
violence  by  taking  hasty  offense,  and  you  will  find  that  the 
day  will  pass  over  more  smoothly  than  you  now  conjecture/' 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

THE   INVESTIGATION 

Me  rather  had,  my  heart  might  feel  your  lovo, 
Than  my  displeased  eye  see  your  courtesy. 
Up,  cousin,  up  ;  your  heart  is  up,  I  know, 
Thiis  high  at  least,  although  your  knee — 

King  Richard  II. 

At  the  first  toll  of  the  bell,  which  was  to  summon  the 
great  nobles  of  Burgundy  together  in  council,  with  the  very- 
few  French  peers  who  could  be  present  on  the  occasion, 
Duke  Charles,  followed  by  a  part  of  his  train,  armed  with 
partizans  and  battle-axes,  entered  the  hall  of  Herbert's 
Tower,  in  the  Castle  of  Peronne.  King  Louis,  who  had  ex- 
pected the  visit,  arose  and  made  two  steps  towards  the  Duke, 
and  then  remained  standing  with  an  air  of  dignity,  which, 
in  spite  of  the  meanness  of  his  dress  and  the  familiarity  of 
his  ordinary  manners,  he  knew  very  well  how  to  assume 
when  he  judged  it  necessary.  Upon  the  present  important 
crisis,  the  composure  of  his  demeanor  had  an  evident  effect 
upon  his  rival,  who  changed  the  abrupt  and  hasty  step  with 
which  he  entered  the  apartment  into  one  more  becoming  a 
great  vassal  entering  the  presence  of  his  lord  paramount. 
Apparently  the  Duke  had  formed  the  internal  resolution  to 
treat  Louis,  in  the  outset  at  least,  with  the  formalities  due 
to  bis  high  station  ;  but  at  the  same  time  it  was  evident 
that,  in  doing  so,  he  put  no  small  constraint  upon  the  fiery 
impatience  of  his  own  disposition,  and  was  scarce  able  to 
control  the  feelings  of  resentment  and  the  thirst  of  revenge 
which  boiled  in  his  bosom.  Hence,  though  he  compelled 
himself  to  use  the  outward  acts,  and  in  some  degree  the 
language,  of  courtesy  and  reverence,  his  color  came  and  went 
rapidly  ;  his  voice  was  abrupt,  hoarse,  and  broken  ;  his  limbs 
shook,  as  if  impatient  of  the  curb  imposed  on  his  motions  ; 
he  frowned  and  bit  his  lip  until  the  blood  came  ;  and  every 
look  and  movement  showed  that  the  most  passionate  prince 
who  ever  lived  was  under  the  dominion  of  one  of  his  most 
violent  paroxysms  of  fury. 
The  King  marked  this  war  of  passion  with  a  calm  and  un- 

872 


qUENTIN  DURWABD  878 

troubled  eye;  for,  though  he  gathered  from  the  Duke's 
looks  a  foretaste  of  the  bitterness  of  death,  which  he  dreaded 
alike  as  a  mortal  and  a  sinful  man,  yet  he  was  resolved,  like 
a  wary  and  skilful  pilot,  neither  to  suffer  himself  to  be  dis- 
concerted by  his  own  fears,  nor  to  abandon  the  helm,  while 
there  was  a  chance  of  saving  the  vessel  by  adroit  pilotage. 
Therefore,  when  the  Duke,  in  a  hoarse  and  broken  tone, 
said  something  of  the  scarcity  of  his  accommodations,  he 
answered  with  a  smile,  that  he  could  not  complain,  since  he 
had  as  yet  found  Herbert's  Tower  a  better  residence  than  it 
had  proved  to  one  of  his  ancestors. 

"They  told  you  the  tradition  then?''  said  Charles. 
"  Yes  ;  here  he  was  slain,  but  it  was  because  he  refused  to 
take  the  cowl,  and  finish  his  days  in  a  monastery." 

"The  more  fool  he,"  said  Louis,  affecting  unconcern, 
**  since  he  gained  the  torment  of  being  a  martyr  without  the 
merit  of  being  a  saint." 

"  I  come,"  said  the  Duke,  "  to  pray  your  Majesty  to  attend 
a  high  council,  at  which  things  of  weight  are  to  be  deliber- 
ated upon  concerning  the  welfare  of  France  and  Burgundy. 
You  will  presently  meet  them — that  is,  if  such  be  your 
pleasure " 

"Nay,  my  fair  cousin,"  said  the  King,  "never  strain 
courtesy  so  far  as  to  entreat  what  you  may  so  boldly  com- 
mand. To  council,  since  such  is  your  Grace's  pleasure.  We 
are  somewhat  shorn  of  our  train,"  he  added,  looking  upon 
the  small  suite  that  arranged  themselves  to  attend  him  ; 
"  but  you,  cousin,  must  shine  out  for  us  both." 

Marshaled  by  Toison  d'Or,  chief  of  the  heralds  of  Bur- 
gundy, the  princes  left  the  Earl  Herbert's  Tower  and  entered 
the  castleyard,  which  Louis  observed  was  filled  with  the  Duke's 
body-guard  and  men-at-arms,  splendidly  accoutered  and 
drawn  up  in  martial  array.  Crossing  the  court,  they  entered 
the  council-hall,  which  was  in  a  much  more  modern  part  of 
the  building  than  that  of  which  Louis  had  been  the  tenant, 
and,  though  in  disrepair,  had  been  hastily  arranged  for  the 
solemnity  of  a  public  council.  Two  chairs  of  state  were 
erected  under  the  same  canopy,  that  for  the  King  being 
raised  two  steps  higher  than  the  one  which  the  Duke  was  to 
occupy  ;  about  twenty  of  the  chief  nobility  sat,  arranged  in 
due  order,  on  either  hand  of  the  chair  of  state ;  and  thus, 
when  both  the  princes  were  seated,  the  person  for  whose 
trial,  as  it  might  be  called,  the  council  was  summoned,  held 
the  highest  place,  and  appeared  to  preside  in  it. 

It  was  perhaps  to  get  rid  of  this  inconsistency,  and  the 


W4  WA VEELEY  NOVELS 

scruples  which  might  have  been  inspired  by  it,  that  Dnkt 
Charles,  having  bowed  slightly  to  the  royal  chair,  bluntly 
opened  the  sitting  with  the  following  words  : — 

"  My  good  vassals  and  counselors,  it  is  not  unknown  to 
you  what  disturbances  have  arisen  in  our  territories,  both  in 
our  father's  time  and  in  our  own,  from  the  rebellion  of  vas- 
sals against  superiors,  and  subjects  against  their  princes. 
And  lately  we  have  had  the  most  dreadful  proof  of  the  height 
to  which  these  evils  have  arrived  in  our  case  by  the  scan- 
dalous flight  of  the  Countess  Isabelle  of  Croye,  and  her  aunt 
the  Lady  Hameline,  to  take  refuge  with  a  foreign  power, 
thereby  renouncing  their  fealty  to  us  and  inferring  the  for- 
feiture of  their  fiefs ;  and  in  another  more  dreadful  and  de- 
plorable instance,  by  the  sacrilegious  and  bloody  murder  of 
our  beloved  brother  and  ally  the  Bishop  of  Liege,  and  the 
rebellion  of  that  treacherous  city,  which  was  but  too  mildly 
punished  for  the  last  insurrection.  We  have  been  informed 
that  these  sad  events  may  be  traced  not  merely  to  the  incon- 
stancy and  folly  of  women  and  the  presumption  of  pampered 
citizens,  but  to  the  agency  of  foreign  power,  and  the  inter- 
ference of  a  mighty  neighbor,  from  whom,  if  good  deeds 
could  merit  any  return  in  kind.  Burgundy  could  have  ex- 
pected nothing  but  the  most  sincere  and  devoted  friendship. 
If  this  should  prove  truth,''  said  the  Duke,  setting  his  teeth 
and  pressing  his  heel  against  the  ground,  "  what  considera- 
tion shall  withhold  us,  the  means  being  in  our  power,  from 
taking  such  measures  as  shall  effectually,  and  at  the  very 
Bource,  close  up  the  main  spring  from  which  these  evils  have 
yearly  flowed  on  us  ?  ** 

The  Duke  had  begun  his  speech  with  some  calmness,  but 
he  elevated  his  voice  at  the  conclusion  ;  and  the  last  sen- 
tence was  spoken  in  a  tone  which  made  all  the  counselors 
tremble,  and  brought  a  transient  fit  of  paleness  across  the 
King's  cheek.  He  instantly  recalled  his  courage,  however, 
and  addressed  the  council  in  his  turn,  in  a  tone  evincing  so 
much  ease  and  composure  that  the  Duke,  though  he  seemed 
desirous  to  interrupt  or  stop  him,  found  no  decent  opportu- 
nity to  do  so. 

*' Nobles  of  France  and  of  Burgundy,^'  he  said,  ''knights 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  and  of  the  Golden  Fleece,  since  a  king 
must  plead  his  cause  as  an  accused  person  he  cannot  desirf 
more  distinguished  judges  than  the  flower  of  nobleness  and 
muster  and  pride  of  chivalry.  Our  fair  cousin  of  Burgundy 
hath  but  darkened  the  dispute  between  us  in  so  far  that  his 
courtesy  has  declined  to  state  it  in  precise  terms.     I,  who 


Q  UENTIN  1)  UR  WARD  375 

have  no  cause  for  observing  such  delicacy,  nay,  whose  condi- 
tion permits  me  not  to  do  so,  crave  leave  to  speak  more  pre- 
cisely. It  is  to  us,  my  lords — to  us,  his  liege  lord,  his  kins- 
man, his  ally — that  unhappy  circumstances,  perverting  our 
cousin's  clear  judgment  and  better  nature,  have  induced 
him  to  apply  the  hateful  charges  of  seducing  his  vassals  from 
their  allegiance,  stirring  up  the  people  of  Liege  to  revolt,  and 
stimulating  the  outlawed  William  de  la  Marck  to  commit  a 
most  cruel  and  sacrilegious  murder.  Nobles  of  France  and 
Burgundy,  I  might  truly  appeal  to  the  circumstances  in 
which  I  now  stand  as  being  in  themselves  a  complete  contra- 
diction of  such  an  accusation  ;  for  is  it  to  be  supposed  that, 
having  the  sense  of  a  rational  being  left  me,  I  should  have 
thrown  myself  unreservedly  into  the  power  of  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy,  while  I  was  practising  treachery  against  him  such 
as  could  not  fail  to  be  discovered,  and  which,  being  discov- 
ered, must  place  me,  as  I  now  stand,  in  the  power  of  a  justly 
exasperated  prince  ?  The  folly  of  one  who  should  seat  him- 
self quietly  down  to  repose  on  a  mine,  after  he  had  lighted 
the  match  which  was  to  cause  instant  explosion,  would  have 
been  wisdom  compared  to  mine.  I  have  no  doubt  that, 
amongst  the  perpetrators  of  those  horrible  treasons  at  Schon- 
waldt,  villains  have  been  busy  with  my  name  ;  but  am  I  to 
be  answerable,  who  have  given  them  no  right  to  use  it  ?  If 
two  silly  women,  disgusted  on  account  of  some  romantic 
cause  of  displeasure,  sought  refuge  at  my  court,  does  it  fol- 
low that  they  did  so  by  my  direction  ?  It  will  be  found, 
when  inquired  into,  that,  since  honor  and  chivalry  forbade 
my  sending  them  back  prisoners  to  the  court  of  Burgundy, 
— which,  I  think,  gentlemen,  no  one  who  wears  the  collar  of 
these  orders  would  suggest, — that  I  came  as  nearly  as  pos- 
sible to  the  same  point  by  placing  them  in  the  hands  of  the 
venerable  father  in  God, who  is  now  a  saint  in  Heaven.""  Here 
Louis  seemed  much  affected,  and  pressed  his  kerchief  to  his 
eyes.  *'  In  the  hands,  I  say,  of  a  member  of  my  own  family, 
and  still  more  closely  united  with  that  of  Burgundy,  whose 
situation,  exalted  condition  in  the  church,  and,  alas  !  whose 
numerous  virtues  qualified  him  to  be  the  protector  of  these 
unhappy  wanderers  for  a  little  while,  and  the  mediator  be- 
twixt them  and  their  liege  lord.  I  say,  therefore,  the  only 
circumstances  which  seem,  in  my  brother  of  Burgundy's 
hasty  view  of  this  subject,  to  argue  unworthy  suspicions 
against  me  are  such  as  can  be  explained  on  the  fairest  and 
most  honorable  motives  ;  and  I  say,  moreover,  that  no  one 
particle  of  credible  evidence  can  be  brought  to  iupport  the 


376  WA  VERLET  NOVELS 

injurious  charges  which  have  induced  my  brother  to  alter  hii 
friendly  looks  towards  one  who  came  to  him  in  full  confidence 
of  friendship,  have  caused  him  to  turn  his  festive  hall  into 
a  court  of  justice,  and  his  hospitable  apartments  into  a 
prison/' 

"  My  lord — my  lord/'  said  Charles,  breaking  in  so  soon  as 
the  King  paused,  ''for  your  being  here  at  a  time  so  un- 
luckily coinciding  with  the  execution  of  your  projects,  I  can 
only  account  by  supposing  that  those  who  make  it  their 
trade  to  impose  on  others  do  sometimes  egregiously  delude 
themselves.  The  engineer  is  sometimes  killed  by  the  spring- 
ing of  his  own  petard.  For  what  is  to  follow,  let  it  depend 
on  the  eyent  of  this  solemn  inquiry.  Bring  hither  the  Coun- 
tess Isabelle  of  Oroye  ! '' 

As  the  young  lady  was  introduced,  supported  on  the  one 
side  by  the  Countess  of  Crdvecoeur,  who  had  her  husband's 
commands  to  that  effect,  and  on  the  other  by  the  abbess  of 
the  Ursuline  convent,  Charles  exclaimed  with  his  usual  harsh- 
ness of  voice  and  manner,  *'  Soh  !  sweet  princess,  you,  who 
could  scarce  find  breath  to  answer  us  when  we  last  laid  our 
just  and  reasonable  commands  on  you,  yet  have  had  wind 
enough  to  run  as  long  a  course  as  ever  did  hunted  doe,  what 
think  you  of  the  fair  work  you  have  made  between  two  great 
princes  and  two  mighty  countries,  that  have  been  like  to  go 
to  war  for  your  baby  face  ?  " 

The  publicity  of  the  scene  and  the  violence  of  Charles's 
manner  totally  overcame  the  resolution  which  Isabelle  had 
formed  of  throwing  herself  at  the  Duke's  feet,  and  imploring 
him  to  take  possession  of  her  estates  and  permit  her  to  retire 
into  a  cloister.  She  stood  motionless  like  a  terrified  female 
in  a  storm,  who  hears  the  thunder  roll  on  every  side  of  her, 
and  apprehends  in  every  fresh  peal  the  bolt  which  is  to  strike 
her  dead.  The  Countess  of  Crevecoeur,  a  woman  of  spirit 
equal  to  her  birth,  and  to  the  beauty  which  she  preserved 
even  in  her  matronly  years,  judged  it  necessary  to  interfere. 
''  My  lord  duke/'  she  said,  ''  my  fair  cousin  is  under  my 
protection.  I  know  better  than  your  Grace  how  women 
should  be  treated,  and  we  will  leave  this  presence  instantly, 
unless  you  use  a  tone  and  language  more  suitable  to  our  rank 
and  sex." 

The  Duke  burst  out  into  a  laugh.  ''  Crevecoeur,"  he  said, 
*'  thy  tameness  hath  made  a  lordly  dame  of  thy  countess  ; 
but  that  is  no  affair  of  mine.  Give  a  seat  to  yonder  simple 
girl,  to  whom,  so  far  from  feeling  enmity,  I  design  the  high- 
est grace  and  honor.     Sit  down,  mistress,  and  tell  us  at  youi 


qUENTIN  DURWABD  377 

leisure  what  fiend  possessed  you  to  fly  from  your  native 
country,  and  embrace  the  trade  of  a  damsel  adventurous/' 

With  much  pain,  and  not  without  several  interruptions, 
Isabelle  confessed  that,  being  absolutely  determined  against 
a  match  proposed  to  her  by  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  she  had 
indulged  the  hope  of  obtaining  protection  of  the  court  of 
France. 

"And  under  protection  of  the  French  monarch,"  said 
Charles.     "  Of  that,  doubtless,  you  were  well  assured  ?" 

"I  did  indeed  so  think  myself  assured,'^  said  the  Countess 
Isabelle,  "otherwise  I  had  not  taken  a  step  so  decided. '^ 
Here  Charles  looked  upon  Louis  with  a  smile  of  inexpres- 
sible bitterness,  which  the  King  supported  with  the  utmost 
firmness,  except  that  his  lip  grew  something  whiter  than  it  was 
wont  to  be.  "  But  my  information  concerning  King  Louis's 
intentions  towards  us,''  continued  the  countess,  after  a  short 
pause,  "  was  almost  entirely  derived  from  my  unhappy  aunt, 
the  Lady  Hameline,  and  her  opinions  were  formed  upon  the 
assertions  and  insinuations  of  persons  whom  I  have  since 
discovered  to  be  the  vilest  traitors  and  most  faithless  wretches 
in  the  world."  She  then  stated,  in  brief  terms,  what  she 
had  since  come  to  learn  of  the  treachery  of  Marthon,  and  of 
Hayraddin  Maugrabin,  and  added  that  "  she  entertained  no 
doubt  that  the  elder  Maugrabin,  called  Zamet,  the  original 
adviser  of  their  flight,  was  capable  of  every  species  of  treach- 
ery, as  well  as  of  assuming  the  character  of  an  agent  of 
Louis  without  authority." 

There  was  a  pause  while  the  countess  had  continued  her 
story,  which  she  prosecuted,  though  very  briefly,  from  the 
time  she  left  the  territories  of  Burgundy,  in  company  with 
her  aunt,  until  the  storming  of  Schonwaldt,  and  her  final 
surrender  to  the  Count  Cr^.vecoeur.  All  remained  mute 
after  she  had  finished  her  brief  and  broken  narrative,  and 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy  bent  his  fierce  dark  eyes  on  the 
ground,  like  one  who  seeks  for  a  pretext  to  indulge  his  pas- 
sion, but  finds  none  sufficiently  plausible  to  justify  himself 
in  his  own  eyes.  "  The  mole,"  he  said  at  length,  looking 
upwards,  "  winds  not  his  dark  subterranean  path  beneath  our 
feet  the  less  certainly,  that  we,  though  conscious  of  his  mo- 
tions, cannot  absolutely  trace  them.  Yet  I  would  know  of 
King  Louis,  wherefore  he  maintained  these  ladies  at  his 
court,  had  they  not  gone  thither  by  his  own  invitation." 

"  I  did  not  so  entertain  them,  fair  cousin,"  answered  the 
King.  "Out  of  compassion,  indeed,  I  received  them  in 
privacy,  but  took  ^,n  early  opportunity   of  placing  j;hem 


378  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

under  the  protection  of  the  late  excellent  bishop,  your  own 
ally,  and  who  was — may  God  assoil  him  ! — a  better  judge 
that  I,  or  any  secular  prince,  how  to  reconcile  the  protection 
due  to  fugitives  with  the  duty  which  the  king  owes  to  his 
ally  from  whose  dominions  they  have  fled.  I  boldly  ask  this 
young  lady  whether  my  reception  of  them  was  cordial  or 
whether  it  was  not,  on  the  contrary,  such  as  made  them 
express  regret  that  they  had  made  my  court  their  place  of 
refuge  !  '* 

*'So  much  was  it  otherwise  than  cordial,"  answered  the 
countess,  "  that  it  induced  me,  at  least,  to  doubt  how  far  it 
was  possible  that  your  Majesty  should  have  actually  given 
the  invitation  of  which  we  had  been  assured  by  those  who 
called  themselves  our  agents  ;  since,  supposing  them  to  have 
proceeded  only  as  they  were  duly  authorized,  it  would  have 
been  hard  to  reconcile  your  Majesty^s  conduct  with  that  to 
be  expected  from  a  king,  a  knight,  and  a  gentleman. 

The  countess  turned  her  eyes  fo  the  King  as  she  spoke, 
with  a  look  wnich  was  probably  intended  as  a  reproach,  but 
the  breast  of  Louis  was  armed  against  all  such  artillery.  On 
the  contrary,  waving  slowly  his  expanded  hands,  and  look- 
ing around  the  circle,  he  seemed  to  make  a  triumphant  ap- 
peal to  all  present  upon  the  testimony  borne  to  his  innocence  in 
the  countesses  reply. 

Burgundy,  meanwhile,  cast  on  him  a  look  which  seemed 
to  say  that,  if  in  some  degree  silenced,  he  was  as  far  as  ever 
from  being  satisfied,  and  then  said  abruptly  to  the  countess, 
'■Methinks,  fair  mistress,  in  this  account  of  your  wander- 
ings, you  have  forgot  all  mention  of  certain  love-passages. 
So,  ho  !  blushing  already  ?  Certain  knights  of  the  forest, 
by  whom  your  quiet  was  for  a  time  interrupted.  Well,  that 
incident  hath  come  to  our  ear,  and  something  we  may  pres- 
ently form  out  of  it.  Tell  me.  King  Louis,  were  it  not  well, 
before  this  vagrant  Helen  of  Troy,  or  of  Oroye,  set  more 
kings  by  the  ears — were  it  not  well  to  carve  out  a  fitting 
match  for  her  ? '' 

King  Louis,  though  conscious  what  ungrateful  proposal 
was  likely  to  be  made  next,  gave  a  calm  and  silent  assent  to 
what  Charles  said  ;  but  the  countess  herself  was  restored  to 
courage  by  the  very  extremity  of  her  situation.  She  quitted 
the  arm  of  the  Countess  of  Cr^vecoeur,  on  which  she  had 
hitherto  leaned,  came  forward'  timidly,  yet  with  an  air  of 
dignity,  and,  kneeling  before  the  Duke's  throne,  thus  ad- 
dressed him  :  '*  Noble  Duke  of  Burgundy,  and  my  liege 
lord,  I  acknowledge  my  fault  in  having  withdrawn  myself 


qUENTIN  DUB  WARD  379 

from  your  dominions  without  your  gracious  permission,  and 
will  most  humbly  acquiesce  in  any  penalty  you  are  pleased 
to  impose.  I  place  my  lands  and  castles  at  your  rightful 
disposal,  and  pray  you  only  of  your  own  bounty,  and  for  the 
sake  of  my  father's  memory,  to  allow  the  last  of  the  line  of 
Croye,  out  of  her  large  estate,  such  a  moderate  maintenance 
as  may  find  her  admission  into  a  convent  for  the  remainder 
of  her  life/' 

*'  What  think  you,  sire,  of  the  young  person's  petition  to 
us  ?"  said  the  Duke,addressing  Louis. 

''As  of  a  holy  and  humble  motion,"  said  the  King,  '*  which 
doubtless  comes  from  that  grace  which  ought  not  to  be  re- 
sisted or  withstood." 

'^  The  humble  and  lowly  shall  be  exalted,"  said  Charles. 
**Arise,  Countess  Isabelle  ;  we  mean  better  for  you  than 
you  have  devised  for  yourself.  We  mean  neither  to  seque- 
strate your  estate  nor  to  abase  your  honors  but  on  the  con- 
trary, will  add  largely  to  both.". 

*^Alas  !  my  lord,"  said  the  countess,  continuing  on  her 
knees,  ^'  it  is  even  that  well-meant  goodness  which  I  fear 
still  more  than  your  Grace's  displeasure,  since  it  compels 
me " 

'*  St.  George  of  Burgundy  ! "  said  Duke  Charles,  "  is  our 
will  to  be  thwarted,  and  our  commands  disputed,  at  every 
turn  ?  Up,  I  say,  minion,  and  withdraw  for  the  present ; 
when  we  have  time  to  think  of  thee,  we  will  so  order  mat- 
ters that.  Teste- St.- Gris !  you  shall  either  obey  us  or  do 
worse." 

Notwithstanding  this  stern  answer,  the  Countess  Isabelle 
remained  at  his  feet,  and  would  probably,  by  her  pertinacity, 
have  driven  him  to  say  upon  the  spot  something  yet  more 
severe,  had  not  the  Countess  of  Crevecoeur,  who  better  knew 
that  prince's  humor,  interfered  to  raise  her  young  friend,  and 
to  conduct  her  from  the  hall. 

Quentin  Durward  was  now  summoned  to  appear,  and  pre« 
sented  himself  before  the  King  and  Duke  with  that  freedom, 
distant  alike  from  bashful  reserve  and  intrusive  boldness, 
which  becomes  a  youth  at  once  well-born  and  well-nurtured, 
who  gives  honor  where  it  is  due,  but  without  permitting 
himself  to  be  dazzled  or  confused  by  the  presence  of  those  to 
whom  it  is  to  be  rendered.  His  uncle  had  furnished  him 
with  the  means  of  again  equipping  himself  in  the  arms  and 
dress  of  an  archer  of  the  Scottish  Guard,  and  his  complexion, 
mien,  and  air  suited  in  an  uncommon  degree  his  splendid  ap- 
pearance.    His  extreme  youth,  too,  prepossessed  the  coun- 


S80  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

selors  in  his  favor,  the  rather  that  no  one  could  easily  believe 
that  the  sagacious  Louis  would  have  chosen  so  very  young  a 
person  to  be  the  confidant  of  political  intrigues  ;  and  thus  the 
King  enjoyed,  in  this  as  in  other  cases,  considerable  advant- 
age from  his  singular  choice  of  agents,  both  as  to  age  and 
rank,  where  such  election  seemed  least  likely  to  be  made. 
At  the  command  of  the  Duke,  sanctioned  by  that  of  Louis, 
Quentin  commenced  an  account  of  his  journey  with  the 
Ladies  of  Croye  to  the  neighborhood  of  Liege,  premising  a 
statement  of  King  Louis's  instructions,  which  were  that  he 
should  escort  them  safely  to  the  castle  of  the  bishop. 

"  And  you  obeyed  my  orders  accordingly  ?  "  said  the 
King. 

'^  I  did,  sire,"  replied  the  Scot. 

''You  omit  a  circumstance,''  said  the  Duke,  ''You  were 
set  upon  in  the  forest  by  two  wandering  knights.** 

"  It  does  not  become  me  to  remember  or  to  proclaim  such 
an  incident,"  said  the  youth,  blushing  ingenuously. 

''  But  it  doth  not  become  one  to  forget  it,"  said  the  Duke 
of  Orleans.  "  This  youth  discharged  his  commission  man- 
fully, and  maintained  his  trust  in  a  manner  that  I  shall  long 
remember.  Come  to  my  apartment,  archer,  when  this 
matter  is  over,  and  thou  shalt  find  I  have  not  forgot  thy 
brave  bearing,  while  I  am  glad  to  see  it  is  equalled  by  thy 
modesty." 

"  And  come  to  mine,"  said  Dunois.  "  I  have  a  helmet 
for  thee,  since  I  think  I  owe  thee  one." 

Quentin  bowed  low  to  both,  and  the  examination  was 
resumed.  At  the  command  of  Duke  Charles,  he  produced 
the  written  instructions  which  he  had  received  for  the  direc- 
tion of  his  journey. 

"Did  you  follow  these  instructions  literally,  soldier  ?" 
said  the  Duke. 

"  No,  if  it  please  your  Grace,"  replied  Quentin.  "  They 
directed  me,  as  you  may  be  pleased  to  observe,  to  cross  the 
Maes  near  Namur  ;  whereas  I  kept  the  left  bank,  as  being 
both  the  nigher  and  the  safer  road  to  Liege." 

"  And  wherefore  that  alteration  ?"  said  the  Duke. 

"  Because  I  began  to  suspect  the  fidelity  of  my  guide," 
answered  Quentin. 

"Now  mark  the  questions  I  have  next  to  ask  thee,"  said 
the  Duke.  "  Reply  truly  to  them,  and  fear  nothing  from 
the  resentment  of  any  one.  But  if  you  palter  or  double  in 
your  answers,  I  will  have  thee  hung  alive  in  an  iron  chain 
from  the  steeple  of  the  market-house,  where  thou  shalt 


qUENTIN  DURWABB  381 

wish  for  death  for  many  an  hour  ere  he  come  to  reliere 

you!- 

There  was  a  deep  silence  ensued.  At  length,  having  given 
the  youth  time,  as  he  thought,  to  consider  the  circumstances 
in  which  he  was  placed,  the  Duke  demanded  to  know  of 
Durward  who  his  guide  was,  bjr  whom  supplied,  and  where- 
fore he  had  been  led  to  entertain  suspicion  of  him  ?  To  the 
first  of  these  questions  Quentin  Durward  answered  by  naming 
Hayraddin  Maugrabin,  the  Bohemian  ;  to  the  second,  that 
the  guide  had  been  recommended  by  Tristan  I'Hermite  ;  and 
in  reply  to  the  third  point,  he  mentioned  what  had  happened 
in  the  Franciscan  convent,  near  Namur  ;  how  the  Bohemian 
had  been  expelled  from  the  holy  house,  and  how,  jealous  of 
his  behavior,  he  had  dogged  him  to  a  rendezvous  with  one 
of  William  de  la  Marck's  lanzknechts,  where  he  overheard 
them  arrange  a  plan  for  surprising  the  ladies  who  were  un- 
der his  protection. 

"Now,  hark  thee,-  said  the  Duke,  *'and  once  more  re- 
member thy  life  depends  on  thy  veracity ;  did  these  villains 
mention  their  having  this  king's — I  mean  this  very  King 
Louis  of  France's — authority  for  their  scheme  of  surprising 
the  escort  and  carrying  away  the  ladies  ?  " 

"  If  such  infamous  fellows  had  said  so,"  replied  Quentin, 
**  I  know  not  how  I  should  have  believed  them,  having  the 
word  of  the  King  himself  to  place  in  opposition  to  theirs.- 

Louis,  who  had  listened  hitherto  with  most  earnest  atten- 
tion, could  not  help  drawing  his  breath  deeply  when  he 
heard  Durward's  answer,  in  the  manner  of  one  from  whose 
bosom  a  heavy  weight  has  been  at  once  removed.  The  Duke 
again  looked  disconcerted  and  moody  ;  and,  returning  to 
the  charge,  questioned  Quentin  still  more  closely,  "Whether 
he  did  not  understand,  from  these  men's  private  conversa- 
tion, that  the  plots  which  they  meditated  had  King  Louis's 
sanction  ?  " 

"  I  repeat  that  I  heard  nothing  which  could  authorize  me 
to  say  so,"  answered  the  young  man,  who,  though  inter- 
nally convinced  of  the  King's  accession  to  the  treachery  of 
Hayraddin,  yet' held  it  contrary  to  his  allegiance  to  bring 
forward  his  own  suspicions  on  the  subject ;  "  and  if  I  hcid 
heard  such  men  make  such  an  assertion,  I  again  say  that  I 
would  not  have  given  their  testimony  weight  against  the 
instructions  of  the  King  himself." 

"  Thou  art  a  faithful  messenger,-  said  the  Duke,  with  a 
sneer  ;  and  I  venture  to  say  that,  in  obeying  the  King's  in- 
structions^  thou  hast  disappointed  his  expectations  in  a 


882  WAVEULEY  N0VEL8 

manner  that  thou  mightst  have  smarted  for,  but  that  subse- 
quent events  have  made  thy  bull-headed  fidelity  seem  like 
good  service." 

*'  I  understand  you  not,  my  lord,*'  said  Quentin  Durward ; 
"  all  I  know  is,  that  my  master  King  Louis  sent  me  to  pro- 
tect these  ladies,  and  that  I  did  so  accordingly,  to  the  extent 
of  my  ability,  both  in  the  journey  to  Schonwaldt  and  through 
the  subsequent  scenes  which  took  place.  I  understood  the 
instructions  of  the  King  to  be  honorable,  and  I  executed 
them  honorably ;  had  they  been  of  a  different  tenor,  they 
would  not  have  suited  one  of  my  name  or  nation.*' 

'^  Fier  comme  un  Ecossois,''  said  Charles,  who,  however 
disappointed  at  the  tenor  of  Durward's  reply,  was  not  unjust 
enough  to  blame  him  for  his  boldness.  "  But  hark  thee, 
archer,  what  instructions  were  those  which  made  thee,  as 
some  sad  fugitives  from  Schonwaldt  have  informed  us,  parade 
the  streets  of  Liege,  at  the  head  of  those  mutineers  who 
afterwards  cruelly  murdered  their  temporal  prince  and 
spiritual  father?  And  what  harangue  was  it  which  thou  didst 
make  after  that  murder  was  committed,  in  which  you  took 
upon  you,  as  agent  for  Louis,  to  assume  authority  among 
the  villains  who  had  just  perpetrated  so  great  a  crime  ?  " 

"My  lord,''  said  Quentin,  "there  are  many  who  could 
testify  that  I  assumed  not  the  character  of  an  envoy  of  France 
in  the  town  of  Liege,  but  had  it  fixed  upon  me  by  the 
obstinate  clamors  of  the  people  themselves,  who  refused  to 
give  credit  to  any  disclamation  which  I  could  make.  This  I 
told  to  those  in  the  service  of  the  bishop  when  I  had 
made  my  escape  from  the  city,  and  recommended  their  at- 
tention to  the  security  of  the  castle,  which  might  have  pre- 
vented the  calamity  and  horror  of  the  succeeding  night.  It 
is,  no  doubt,  true  that  I  did,  in  the  extremity  of  danger, 
avail  myself  of  the  influence  which  my  imputed  character 
gave  me,  to  save  the  Countess  Isabelle,  to  protect  my  own 
life,  and,  so  far  as  I  could,  to  rein  in  the  humor  for  slaughter, 
which  had  already  broke  out  in  so  dreadful  an  instance.  I 
repeat,  and  will  maintain  it  with  my  body,  that  I  had  no 
commission  of  any  kind  from  the  King  of  France  respecting 
the  people  of  Liege,  far  less  instructions  to  instigate  them 
to  mutiny  ;  and  that,  finally,  when  I  did  avail  myself  of  that 
imputed  character,  it  was  as  if  I  had  snatched  up  a  shield  to 
protect  myself  in  a  moment  of  emergency,  and  used  it,  as  I 
should  surely  have  done,  for  the  defense  of  myself  and 
others,  without  inquiring  whether  I  had  c  right  to  the 
heraldic  emblazoDmenta  which  it  displayed/' 


qVENTiN  DtTIiWARD  383 

*'And  therein  my  young  companion  and  prisoner/' said 
Cr^vecceur,  unable  any  longer  to  remain  silent,  "  acted  with 
equal  spirit  and  good  sense  ;  and  his  doing  so  cannot  justly 
be  imputed  as  blame  to  King  Louis." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  assent  among  the  surrounding 
nobility  which  sounded  joyfully  in  the  ears  of  King  Louis, 
whilst  it  gave  no  little  offense  to  Charles.  He  rolled  his 
eyes  angrily  around  ;  and  the  sentiments,  so  generally  ex- 
pressed by  so  many  of  his  highest  vassals  and  wisest  coun- 
selors, would  not  perhaps  have  prevented  his  giving  way  to 
his  violent  and  despotic  temper,  had  not  Des  Comines,  who 
foresaw  the  danger,  prevented  it  by  suddenly  announcing  a 
herald  from  the  city  of  Liege. 

'*A  herald  from  weavers  and  nailers?"  exclaimed  the 
Duke,  '^  but  admit  him  instantly.  By  Our  Lady,  I  will  learn 
from  this  same  herald  something  further  of  his  employers* 
hopes  and  projects  than  this  young  French-Scottish  man-at- 
arms  seems  desirous  to  tell  me  I'' 


CHAPTER  XXXIIl 

THE   HERALD 

Ariel. Hark  !  they  roar, 

Prospero.  Let  them  be  hunted  soundly, 

The  Tempett 

There  was  room  made  in  the  assembly,  and  no  small  curi- 
osity evinced  by  those  present  to  see  the  herald  whom  the 
insurgent  Liegeois  had  ventured  to  send  to  so  haughty  a 
prince  as  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  while  in  such  high  indig- 
nation against  them.  For  it  must  be  remembered  that  at 
this  period  heralds  were  only  despatched  from  sovereign 
princes  to  each  other  upon  solemn  occasions ;  and  that  the 
inferior  nobility  employed  pursuivants,  a  lower  rank  of 
officers-at-arms.  It  may  be  also  noticed  in  passing,  that 
Louis  XI.,  an  habitual  derider  of  whatever  did  not  promise 
real  power  or  substantial  advantage,  was  in  especial  a  pro- 
fessed contemner  of  heralds  and  heraldry,  *'  red,  blue,  and 
green,  with  all  their  trumpery,"*  to  which  the  pride  of  his 
rival  Charles,  which  was  of  a  very  different  kind,  attached 
no  small  degree  of  ceremonious  importance. 

The  herald,  who  was  now  introduced  into  the  presence  of 
the  monarchs,  was  dressed  in  a  tabard,  or  coat,  embroidered 
with  the  arms  of  his  master,  in  which  the  boar's  head  made 
a  distinguished  appearance,  in  blazonry  which,  in  the  opinion 
of  the  skilful,  was  more  showy  than  accurate.  The  rest  of 
his  dress — a  dress  always  sufficiently  tawdry — was  over- 
charged with  lace,  embroidery,  and  ornament  of  every  kind  ; 
and  the  plume  of  feathers  which  he  wore  was  so  high,  as  if 
intended  to  sweep  the  roof  of  the  hall.  In  short,  the  usual 
gaudy  splendor  of  the  heraldic  attire  was  caricatured  and 
overdone.  The  boar's  head  was  not  only  repeated  on  every 
part  of  his  dress,  but  even  his  bonnet  was  formed  into  that 
shape,  and  it  was  represented  with  gory  tongue  and  Woody 
tusks,  or,  in  proper  language,  ''  langued  and  dentated  gules  "  ; 
and  there  was  something  in  the  man's  appearance  which 
seemed  to  imply  a  mixture  of  boldness  and  apprehension, 

•For  a  remarkable  instance  of  this,  see  Disguised  Herald.    Note  4«. 

d84 


qUENTIN  DURWAED  885 

like  one  who  has  undertaken  a  dangerous  commission,  and  is 
sensible  that  audacity  alone  can  carry  him  through  it  with 
safety.  Something  of  the  same  mixture  of  fear  and  effrontery 
was  visible  in  the  manner  in  which  he  paid  his  respects,  and 
he  showed  also  a  grotesque  awkwardness,  not  usual  amongst 
those  who  were  accustomed  to  be  received  in  the  presence  of 
princes. 

"  Who  art  thou,  in  the  deviPs  name  ?  "  was  the  greeting 
with  which  Charles  the  Bold  received  this  singular  envoy. 

"  I  am  Kouge  Sanglier,'*  answered  the  herald,  "  the  officer- 
at-arms  of  William  de  la  Marck,  by  the  grace  of  God  and  the 
election  of  the  chapter  Prince  Bishop  of  Liege " 

*'  Ha  ! "  exclaimed  Charles  ;  but,  as  if  subduing  his  own 
passion,  he  made  a  sign  to  him  to  proceed. 

**  And,  in  right  of  his  wife,  the  Honorable  Countess  Hame- 
line  of  Croye,  Count  of  Croye  and  Lord  Bracquemont.*' 

The  utter  astonishment  of  Duke  Charles  at  the  extremity 
of  boldness  with  which  these  titles  were  announced  in  his 
presence  seemed  to  strike  him  dumb ;  and  the  herald,  con- 
ceiving, doubtless,  that  he  had  made  a  suitable  impression 
by  the  annunciation  of  his  character,  proceeded  to  state  his 
errand. 

*'Annuncio  vohis gaudium  magnum  "  he  said  ;  "  Ilet  you, 
Charles  of  Burgundy  and  Earl  of  Flanders,  to  know,  in  my 
master^s  name,  that  under  favor  of  a  dispensation  of  our  Holy 
Father  of  Rome,  presently  expected,  and  appointing  a  fitting 
substitute  ad  sacra,  he  proposes  to  sxercise  at  once  the  office 
of  Prince  Bishop,  and  maintain  the  rights  of  Count  of 
Croye.^^ 

The  Duke  of  Burgundy,  at  this  and  other  pauses  in  the 
herald's  speech,  only  ejaculated,  **  Ha  ! "  or  some  similar 
interjection,  without  making  any  answer ;  and  the  tone  of 
exclamation  was  that  of  one  who,  though  surprised  and 
moved,  is  willing  to  hear  all  that  is  to  be  said  ere  he  commits 
himself  by  making  an  answer.  To  the  further  astonishment 
of  all  who  were  present  he  forbore  from  his  usual  abrupt  and 
violent  gesticulations,  remaining  with  the  nail  of  his  thumb 
pressed  against  his  teeth,  which  was  his  favorite  attitude 
when  giving  attention,  and  keeping  his  eyes  bent  on  the 
ground  as  if  unwilling  to  betray  the  passion  which  might 
gleam  in  them. 

The  envoy,  therefore,  proceeded  boldly  and  unabashed  in 
the  delivery  of  his  message.  '^  In  the  name,  therefore,  of 
the  Prince  Bishop  of  Liege  and  Count  of  Croye,  I  am  to  re- 
quire of  you,  Duke  Charles,  to  desist  from  those  pretensions 
as 


386  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  encroachments  which  you  have  made  on  the  free  and  im- 
perial city  of  Liege,  by  connivance  witli  the  late  Louis  of 
Bourbon,  unworthy  bishop  thereof/' 

**  Ha  !  "  again  exclaimed  the  Duke. 

''  Also  to  restore  the  banners  of  the  community,  which 
you  took  violently  from  the  town,  to  the  number  of  six-and- 
thirty,  to  rebuild  the  breaches  in  their  walls,  and  restore 
the  fortifications  which  you  tyrannically  dismantled,  and  to 
acknowledge  my  master,  William  de  la  Marck,  as  Prince 
Bishop,  lawfully  elected  in  a  free  chapter  of  canons,  of 
which  behold  the  proces-verbal." 

''Have  you  finished  ?"  said  the  Duke. 

''Not  yet,"  replied  the  envoy  :  "  I  am  further  to  require 
your  Grace,  on  the  part  of  the  said  right  noble  and  venera- 
ble prince,  bishop,  and  count,  that  you  do  presently  with- 
draw the  garrison  from  the  Castle  of  Bracquemont,  and 
other  places  of  strength,  belonging  to  the  earldom  of  Croye, 
which  have  been  j)laced  there,  whether  in  your  own  most 
gracious  name,  or  in  that  of  Isabelle,  calling  herself  Count- 
ess of  Croye,  or  any  other,  until  it  shall  be  decided  by  the 
Imperial  Diet  whether  the  fiefs  in  question  shall  not  pertain 
to  the  sister  of  the  late  count,  my  most  gracious  Lady  Hame- 
iine,  rather  than  to  his  daughter,  in  respect  of  the  jus  em- 
phyteusis." 

''  Your  master  is  most  learned,'*  replied  the  Duke. 

"Yet,"  continued  the  herald,  "the  noble  and  venerable 
prince  and  count  will  be  disposed,  all  other  disputes  be- 
twixt Burgundy  and  Liege  being  settled,  to  fix  upon  the 
Lady  Isabelle  such  an  appanage  as  may  become  her  quality." 

"He  is  generous  and  considerate,"  said  the  Duke,  in  the 
same  tone. 

"Now,  by  a  poor  fool's  conscience,"  said  Le  Glorieux 
apart  to  the  Count  of  Crevecoeur,  "I  would  rather  be  in  the 
worst  cow's  hide  that  ever  died  of  the  murrain  than  in  that 
fellow's  painted  coat  !  The  poor  man  goes  on  like  drunk- 
ards, who  only  look  to  the  other  pot,  and  not  to  the  score 
which  mine  host  chalks  up  behind  the  lattice." 

"Have  you  yet  done-?"  said  the  Duke  to  the  herald. 

"  One  word  more,"  answered  Kouge  Sanglier,  "from  my 
noble  and  venerable  lord  aforesaid,  respecting  his  worthy  and 
trusty  ally,  the  Most  Christian  King " 

"Ha!"  exclaimed  the  Duke,  starting,  and  in  a  fiercer 
tone  than  he  had  yet  used  ;  but  checking  himself,  he  in- 
stantly composed  himself  again  to  attention. 

'*  Which  Most  Christian  King's  royal  person  it  is  rumored 


qUBNTtN  DtTRWAltt>  68'? 

that  you,  Charles  of  Burgundy,  have  placed  under  restraint, 
contrary  to  ^our  duty  as  a  vassal  of  the  crown  of  France, 
and  to  the  faith  observed  among  Christian  sovereigns  ;  for 
which  reason,  my  said  noble  and  venerable  master,  by  my 
mouth,  charges  you  to  put  his  Royal  and  Most  Christian 
ally  forthwith  at  freedom,  or  to  receive  the  defiance  which 
I  am  authorized  to  pronounce  to  jou." 

"  Have  you  yet  done  ?"  said  the  Duke. 

'*  I  have,"  answered  the  herald,  ''  and  await  your  Grace's 
answer,  trusting  it  may  be  such  as  will  save  the  effusion  of 
Christian  blood/' 

"Now,  by  St.  George  of  Burgundy "  said  the  Duke  ; 

but  ere  he  could  proceed  further,  Louis  arose,  and  struck  in 
with  a  tone  of  so  much  dignity  and  authority  that  Charles 
could  not  interrupt  him. 

*^  Under  your  favor,  fair  cousin  of  Burgundy,"  said  the 
King;  "we  ourselves  crave  priority  of  voice  to  replying  to 
this  insolent  fellow.  Sirrah  herald,  or  whatever  thou  art, 
carry  back  notice  to  the  perjured  outlaw  and  murderer, 
William  de  la  Marck,  that  the  King  of  France  will  be  pres- 
ently before  Liege,  for  the  purpose  of  punishing  the  sac- 
rilegious murderer  of  his  late  beloved  kinsman,  Louis  of 
Bourbon  ;  and  that  he  proposes  to  gibbet  De  la  Marck  alive, 
for  the  insolence  of  terming  himself  his  ally,  and  putting 
his  royal  name  into  the  mouth  of  one  of  his  own  base  mes- 
sengers." 

"  Add  whatever  else  on  my  part,"  said  Charles,  "  which 
it  may  not  misbecome  a  prince  to  send  to  a  common  thief 
and  murderer.  And  begone  !  Yet  stay.  Never  herald 
went  from  the  court  of  Burgundy  without  having  cause  to 
cry,  '  Largesse  !  *  Let  him  be  scourged  till  the  bones  are 
laid  bare  ! " 

"  Nay,  but  if  it  please  your  Grace,"  said  Cr^vecoeur  and 
D'Hymbercourt  together,  "he  is  a  herald,  and  so  far  privi- 
leged." 

"  It  is  you,  messires,"  replied  the  Duke,  "  who  are  such 
owls  as  to  think  that  the  tabard  makes  the  herald.  I  see 
by  that  fellow's  blazoning  he  is  a  mere  impostor.  Let  Toison 
d'Or  step  forward,  and  question  him  in  your  presence." 

In  spite  of  his  natural  effrontery,  the  envoy  of  the  Wild 
Boar  of  Ardennes  now  became  pale,  and  that  notwithstand- 
ing some  touches  of  paint  with  which  he  had  adorned  his 
countenance.  Toison  d'Or,  the  chief  herald,  as  we  have 
elsewhere  said,  of  the  Duke,  and  king-at-arms  within  his 
dominions,  stepped  forward  with  the  solemnity  of  one  who 


a88  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

knew  what  was  due  to  his  office,  and  asked  his  supposed 
-brother  in  what  college  he  had  studied  the  science  which  he 
professed. 

"I  was  bred  a  pursuivant  at  the  Heraldic  College  of  Ratis- 
bon/'  answered  Eouge  Sanglier,  '^  and  received  the  diploma 
of  ehrenhold  from  that  same  learned  fraternity." 

^^  You  could  not  derive  it  from  a  source  more  worthy," 
answered  Toison  d^Or,  bowing  still  lower  than  he  had  done 
before  ;  '^  and  if  I  presume  to  confer  with  you  on  the  myste- 
ries of  our  sublime  science,  in  obedience  to  the  orders  of  the 
most  gracious  Duke,  it  is  not  in  hopes  of  giving,  but  of  receiv- 
ing, knowledge." 

"  Go  to,"  said  the  Duke,  impatiently.  ''Leave  off  cere- 
mony, and  ask  him  some  question  that  may  try  his  skill." 

'*lt  were  injustice  to  ask  a  disciple  of  the  worthy  College 
of  Arms  at  Retisbon  if  he  comprehendeth  the  common  terms 
of  blazonry,"  said  Toison  d^Or  ;  ^'  but  I  may,  without  offense, 
crave  of  Rouge  Sanglier  to  say  if  he  is  instructed  in  the  more 
mysterious  and  secret  terms  of  the  science,  by  which  the 
more  learned  do  emblematically,  and  as  it  were  parabolically 
express  to  each  other  what  is  conveyed  to  others  in  the  ordi- 
nary language,  taught  in  the  very  accidence  as  it  were  of 
heraldry  ?  " 

''  I  understand  one  sort  of  blazonry  as  well  as  another," 
answered  Rouge  Sanglier,  boldly  ; ''  but  it  may  be  we  have  not 
the  same  terms  in  Germany  which  you  have  here  in  Flanders." 

''  Alas,  that  you  will  say  so  ! "  replied  Toison  d'Or  ;  *'  our 
noble  science,  which  is  indeed  the  very  banner  of  nobleness 
and  glory  of  generosity,  being  the  same  in  all  Christian  coun- 
tries, nay,  known  and  acknowledged  even  by  the  Sara- 
cens and  Moors.  I  would,  therefore,  pray  of  you  to  describe 
what  coat  you  will  after  the  celestial  fashion,  that  is,  by  the 
planets." 

"  Blazon  it  yourself  as  you  will,"  said  Rouge  Sanglier  ;  '  I 
will  do  no  such  apish  tricks  upon  commandment,  as  an  ape  is 
made  to  come  aloft." 

"  Show  him  a  coat,  and  let  him  blazon  it  his  own  way/' 
said  the  Duke  ;  *'  and  if  he  fails,  I  promise  him  that  his  back 
shall  be  gules,  azure,  and  sable." 

''  Here,"  said  the  herald  of  Burgundy,  taking  from  his 
pouch  a  piece  of  parchment,  ''  is  a  scroll,  in  which  certain 
considerations  led  me  to  prick  down,  after  my  own  poor  fash- 
ion, an  ancient  coat.  I  will  pray  my  brother,  if  mdeed  he 
belong  to  the  honorable  College  of  Arms  at  Ratisbon,  to  de« 
cipher  it  in  fitting  language/' 


QUENTIN  BUR  WARD  389 

Le  Glorieax,  who  seemed  to  take  great  pleasure  in  this  dis- 
cussion, had  by  this  time  bustled  himself  close  up  to  the  two 
heralds.  "1  will  help  thee,  good  fellow,^^  said  he  to  Eouge 
Sanglier,  as  he  looked  hopelessly  upon  the  scroll.  *^This, 
my  lords  and  masters,  represents  the  cat  looking  out  at  the 
dairy  window.  ^^ 

This  sally  occasioned  a  laugh,  which  was  something  to  the 
advantage  of  Rouge  Sanglier,  as  it  led  Toison  d^Or,  indignant 
at  the  misconstruction  of  his  drawing,  to  explain  it  as  the 
coat-of-arms  assumed  by  Ohildebert,  King  of  France,  after 
he  had  taken  prisoner  Gondemar,  King  of  Burgundy  ;  rep- 
resenting an  ounce,  or  tiger-cat,  the  emblem  of  the  captive 
prince,  behind  a  grating,  or,  as  Toison  d^Or  technically  de- 
fined it,  "  Sable,  a  musion  passant  or,  oppressed  with  a  trellis 
gules,  clone  of  the  second. ''' 

''  By  my  bauble,"  said  Le  Glorieux,  ^^if  the  cat  resemble 
Burgundy,  she  has  the  right  side  of  the  grating  nowadays." 

'^  True,  good  fellow,"  said  Louis,  laughing,  while  the  rest 
of  the  presence,  and  even  Charles  himself,  seemed  discon- 
certed at  so  broad  a  jest — '^  I  owe  thee  a  piece  of  gold  for 
turning  something  that  looked  like  sad  earnest  into  the  merry 
game  which  I  trust  it  will  end  in." 

^^ Silence,  Le  Glorieux,"  said  the  Duke;  '^and  you,  Toi- 
son d^Or,  who  are  too  learned  to  be  intelligible,  stand  back ; 
and  bring  that  rascal  forward,  some  of  you.  Hark  ye,  vil- 
lain," he  said,  in  his  harshest  tone,  *'  do  you  know  the  differ- 
ence between  argent  and  or,  except  in  the  shape  of  coined 
money  ?" 

"  For  pity's  sake,  your  Grace,  be  good  unto  me  !  Noble 
King  Louis,  speak  for  me  ! " 

"  Speak  for  thyself,"  said  the  Duke.  ^'  In  a  word,  art  thou 
herald  or  not  ?  " 

•'^  Only,  for  this  occasion!"  acknowledged  the  detected 
official. 

^^Now,  by  St.  George  !"  said  the  Duke,  eyeing  Louis  as- 
kance, ''we  know  no  king — no  gentleman — save  one,  who 
would  have  so  prostituted  the  noble  science  on  which  royalty 
and  gentry  rest,  save  that  king,  who  sent  to  Edward  of  Eng- 
land a  serving  man  disguised  as  a  herald."* 

*'  Such  a  stratagem,"  said  Louis,  laughing  or  affecting  to 
laugh,  ''  could  only  be  justified  at  a  court  where  no  heralds 
were  at  the  time,  and  when  the  emergency  was  urgent.  But, 
though  it  might  have  passed  on  the  blunt  and  thick-witted 
islander,  no  one  with  brains  a  whit  better  than  those  of  a  wild 
♦  3ee  Note  4^. 


390  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

boar  would  have  thought  of  passing  such  a  trick  upon  the 
accomplished  court  of  Burgundy." 

''  Send  him  who  will,"  said  the  Duke,  fiercely, ''he  shall 
return  on  their  hands  in  poor  case.  Here  ! — drag  him  to 
the  market-place — slash  him  with  bridle-reins  and  dog-whips 
until  the  tabard  hang  about  him  in  tatters  !  Upon  the 
Rouge  Sanglier  ! — 9a — 9a  !     Haloo,  haloo  ! " 

Four  or  five  large  hounds,  such  as  are  painted  in  the  hunt- 
ing-pieces upon  which  Rubens  and  Schneiders  labored  in 
conjunction,  caught  the  well-known  notes  with  which  the 
Duke  concluded,  and  began  to  yell  and  bay  as  if  the  boar 
were  just  roused  from  his  lair. 

''  By  the  rood  !"  said  King  Louis,  observant  to  catch  the 
vein  of  his  dangerous  cousin,  *'  since  the  ass  has  put  on  the 
boards  hide,  I  would  set  the  dogs  on  him  to  bait  him  out  of 
it  I " 

''Right — right !"  exclaimed  Duke  Charles,  the  fancy  ex- 
actly chiming  in  with  his  humor  at  the  moment — "  it  shall 
be  done  !  Uncouple  the  hounds  !  Hyke  a  Talbot  !  hyke  a 
Beaumont  !  We  will  course  him  from  the  door  of  the  castle 
to  the  east  gate." 

"  I  trust  your  Grace  will  treat  me  as  a  beast  of  chase,"  said 
the  fellow,  putting  the  best  face  he  could  upon  the  matter, 
"  and  allow  me  a  fair  law  ?" 

"  Thou  art  but  vermin,"  said  the  Duke,  "  and  entitled  to 
no  law,  by  the  letter  of  the  book  of  hunting  ;  nevertheless 
thou  shalt  have  sixty  yards  in  advance,  were  it  but  for  the 
sake  of  thy  unparalleled  impudence.  Away — away,  sirs  !we 
will  see  this  sport."  And  the  council  breaking  up  tumult- 
uously,  all  hurried,  none  faster  than  the  two  princes,  to  enjoy 
the  humane  pastime  which  King  Louis  had  suggested. 

The  Rouge  Sanglier  showed  excellent  sport ;  for,  winged 
with  terror,  and  having  half  a  score  of  fierce  boar-hounds 
hard  at  his  haunches,  encouraged  by  the  blowing  of  horns 
and  the  woodland  cheer  of  the  hunters,  he  flew  like  the  very 
wind,  and  had  he  not  been  encumbered  with  his  herald's 
coat  (the  worst  possible  habit  for  a  runner),  he  might  fairly 
have  escaped  dog-free  ;  he  also  doubled  once  or  twice,  in  a 
manner  much  approved  of  by  the  spectators.  None  of  these, 
nay,  not  even  Charles  himself,  was  so  delighted  with  the 
sport  as  King  Louis,  who,  partly  from  political  considera- 
tions, and  partly  as  being  naturally  pleased  with  the  si^ht  of 
human  suffering  when  ludicrously  exhibited,  laughed  till  the 
tears  ran  from  his  eyes,  and  in  his  ecstasies  of  rapture  caught 
hold  of  the  Duke's  ermine  cloak,  as  if  to  support  himself  ; 


Q  UENTIN  B  UR  WA  RD  391 

whilst  the  Duke,  no  less  delighted,  flung  his  arm  around  the 
King's  shoulder,  making  thus  an  exhibition  of  confidential 
sympathy  and  familiarity  very  much  at  variance  with  the 
terms  on  which  they  had  so  lately  stood  together. 

At  length  the  speed  of  the  pseudo-herald  could  save  him 
no  longer  from  the  fangs  of  his  pursuers  :  they  seized  him, 
pulled  him  down,  and  would  probably  soon  have  throttled 
him,  had  not  the  Duke  called  out — *^  Stave  and  tail  ! — 
stave  and  tail  ! "  Take  them  off  him  !  He  hath  shown  so  good 
a  course  that,  though  he  has  made  no  sport  at  bay,  we  will 
not  have  him  despatched. '^ 

Several  officers  accordingly  busied  themselves  in  taking 
off  the  dogs  ;  and  they  were  soon  seen  coupling  some  up,  and 
pursuing  others  which  ran  through  the  streets,  shaking  in 
sport  and  triumph  the  tattered  fragments  of  painted  cloth 
and  embroidery  rent  from  the  tabard,  which  the  unfortunate 
wearer  had  put  on  in  an  unlucky  hour. 

At  this  moment,  and  while  the  Duke  was  too  much  en- 
gaged with  what  passed  before  him  to  mind  what  was  said 
behind  him,  Oliver  le  Dain,  gliding  behind  King  Louis 
whispered  into  his  ear—"  It  is  the  Bohemian,  Hyraddin 
Maugrabin.  It  were  not  well  he  should  come  to  speech  of 
the  Duke.'' 

^'  He  must  die,"  answered  Louis  in  the  same  tone  ;  ''  dead 
men  tell  no  tales." 

One  instant  afterwards,  Tristan  I'Hermite,  to  whom  Oliver 
had  given  the  hint,  stepped  forward  before  the  King  and  the 
Duke,  and  said,  in  his  blunt  manner,  ''  So  please  your  Maj- 
esty and  your  Grace,  this  piece  of  game  is  mine,  and  I  claim 
him  ;  he  is  marked  with  my  stamp  :  the  fleur-de-lys  is 
branded  on  his  shoulder,  as  all  men  may  see.  He  is  a  known 
villain,  and  hath  slain  the  King's  subjects,  robbed  churches, 
deflowered  virgins,  slain  deer  in  the  royal  park " 

"  Enough — enough,"  said  Duke  Charles  ;  "  he  is  my  royal 
cousin's  property  by  many  a  good  title.  What  will  your 
Majesty  do  with  him  ?" 

"  If  he  is  left  to  my  diposal,"  said  the  King,  *'I  will  at 
least  give  him  one  lesson  in  the  science  of  heraldry,  in  which 
he  is  so  ignorant — only  explain  to  him  practically  the  mean- 
ing of  a  cross  potence,  with  a  noose  dangling  proper." 

^'  Not  as  to  be  by  him  borne,  but  as  to  bear  him.  Let  him 
take  the  degrees  under  your  gossip  Tristan  ;  he  is  a  deep  pro- 
fessor in  such  mysteries." 

Thus  answered  the  Duke,  with  a  burst  of  discordant 
laughter  at  his  own  wit,  which  was  so  cordially  chorussed  by 


S82  WA  VERLEY  NO  VEL8 

Louis  that  his  ri^al  could  not  help  looking  kindly  at  him, 
while  he  said — 

"  Ah,  Louis — Louis  !  would  to  God  thou  wert  as  faithful 
a  monarch  as  thou  art  a  merry  companion  !  I  cannot  but 
think  often  of  the  jovial  time  we  used  to  spend  together/' 

''You  may  bring  it  back  when  you  will/'  said  Louis  :  ''I 
will  grant  you  as  fair  terms  as  for  very  shame's  sake  you 
ought  to  ask  in  my  present  condition,  without  making  your- 
self the  fable  of  Christendom  ;  and  I  will  swear  to  observe 
them  upon  the  holy  relique  which  I  have  ever  the  grace  to 
bear  about  my  person,  being  a  fragment  of  the  true  cross." 

Here  he  took  a  small  golden  reliquary,  which  was  sus- 
pended from  his  neck  next  to  his  shirt  by  a  chain  of  the 
same  metal,  and  having  kissed  it  devoutly,  continued — 

"Never  was  false  oath  sworn  on  this  most  sacred  relique 
but  it  was  avenged  within  the  year/' 

*'  Yet/'  said  the  Duke/'  it  was  the  same  on  which  you  swore 
amity  to  me  when  you  left  Burgundy,  and  shortly  after  sent 
the  Bastard  of  Kubempre  to  murder  or  kidnap  me/' 

"  Nay,  gracious  cousin,  now  you  are  ripping  up  ancient 
grievances,"  said  the  King  ;  "  I  promise  you  that  you  were 
deceived  in  that  matter.  Moreover,  it  was  not  upon  this  re- 
lique which  I  then  swore,  but  upon  another  fragment  of  the 
true  cross  which  I  got  from  the  Grand  Seignior,  weakened 
in  virtue,  doubtless,  by  sojourning  with  infidels.  Besides, 
did  not  the  war  of  the  '  public  good '  break  out  within  the 
year ;  and  was  not  a  Burgundian  army  encamped  at  St. 
Denis,  backed  by  all  the  great  feudatories  of  France  ;  and 
was  I  not  obliged  to  yield  up  Normandy  to  my  brother  ?  0 
God,  shield  us  from  perjury  on  such  a  warrant  as  this  ! " 

"Well,  cousin,'^  answered  the  Duke,  "I  do  believe  thou 
hadst  a  lesson  to  keep  faith  another  time.  And  now  for 
once,  without  finesse  and  doubling,  will  you  make  good  your 
promise,  and  go  with  me  to  punish  this  murdering  La  Marck 
and  the  Liegeois  ?** 

"  I  will  march  against  them,"  said  Louis,  "  with  the  ban 
and  arriere-ban  of  France,  and  the  oriflamme  displayed." 

"Nay — nay,"  said  the  Duke,  "  that  is  more  than  is  need- 
ful, or  maybe  advisable.  The  presence  of  your  Scottish 
Guard  and  two  hundred  choice  lances  will  serve  to  show  that 
you  are  a  free  agent.     A  large  army  might " 

"Make  me  so  in  effect,  you  would  say,  my  fair  cousin  ?" 
said  the  King.     "  Well,  you  shall  dictate  the  numbers  of 
my  attendants/' 
v^i^  "And  to  put  this  fair  cause  of  mischief  out  of  the  way, 


qUENTIN  DURWARD  393 

you  will  agree  to  the  Countess  Isabelle  of  Croye  wedding  with 
the  Duke  of  Orleans  ?'' 

''  Fair  cousin/'  said  the  King,  "you  drive  my  courtesy  to 
extremity.  The  duke  is  the  betrothed  bridegroom  of  my 
daughter  Joan.  Be  generous — yield  up  this  matter,  and  let 
us  speak  rather  of  the  towns  on  the  Somme." 

"  My  council  will  talk  to  your  Majesty  of  these,"  said 
Charles  ;  "  I  myself  have  less  at  heart  the  acquisition  of  ter- 
ritory than  the  redress  of  injuries.  You  have  tampered  with 
my  vassals,  and  your  royal  pleasure  must  needs  dispose  of 
the  hand  of  a  ward  of  Burgundy.  Your  Majesty  must  be- 
stow it  within  the  pale  of  your  own  royal  family,  since  you 
have  meddled  with  it ;  otherwise,  our  conference  breaks  off.'' 

'*  Were  I  to  say  I  did  this  willingly,''  said  the  King,  ^'  no 
one  would  believe  me  ;  therefore  do  you,  my  fair  cousin, 
judge  of  the  extent  of  my  wish  to  oblige  you  when  I  say, 
most  reluctantly,  that  the  parties  consenting,  and  a  dispen- 
sation from  the  Pope  being  obtained,  my  own  objections 
shall  be  no  bar  to  this  match  which  you  propose." 

"All  besides  can  be  easily  settled  by  our  ministers,"  said 
the  Duke,  "and  we  are  once  more  cousins  and  friends.'' 

"  May  Heaven  be  praised  !  "  said  Louis,  "  who,  holding  in 
his  hand  the  hearts  of  princes,  doth  mercifully  incline  them 
to  peace  and  clemency,  and  prevent  the  effusion  of  human 
blood.  Oliver,"  he  added  apart  to  that  favorite,  who  ever 
waited  around  him  like  the  familiar  beside  a  socerer,  "  hark 
thee — tell  Tristan  to  be  speedy  in  dealing  with  yonder 
runagate  Bohemian." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

THE  EXECUTION" 

I'll  take  thee  to  the  good  green  wood, 
And  make  thine  own  hand  choose  the  tree. 

Old  Ball(  f. 

''Now  God  be  praised  that  gave  us  the  power  of  laug,hing 
and  making  others  laugh,  and  shame  to  the  dull  car  who 
scorns  the  office  of  a  jester  !  Here  is  a  joke,  and  that  none 
of  the  brightest,  though  it  may  pass,  since  it  has  amused  two 
princes,  which  hath  gone  farther  than  a  thousand  reas;onsof 
state  to  prevent  a  war  between  France  and  Burgundy/' 

Such  was  the  inference  of  Le  Glorieux  when,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  reconciliation  of  which  we  gave  the  particulars 
in  the  last  chapter,  the  Burgundian  guards  were  withdrawn 
from  the  Castle  of  Peronne,  the  abode  of  the  King  removed 
from  the  ominous  Tower  of  Count  Herbert,  and,  to  the  great 
joy  both  of  French  and  Burgundians,  an  outward  shew  at 
least  of  confidence  and  friendship  seemed  so  established  be- 
tween Duke  Charles  and  his  liege  lord.  Yet  still  the  latter, 
though  treated  with  ceremonial  observance,  was  sufficiently 
aware  that  he  continued  to  be  the  object  of  suspicion,  though 
he  prudently  affected  to  overlook  it,  and  appeared  to  consider 
himself  entirely  at  his  ease. 

Meanwhile,  as  frequently  happens  in  such  cases,  whilst  the 
principal  parties  concerned  had  so  far  made  up  their  differ- 
ences, one  of  the  subaltern  agents  concerned  in  their  intrigues 
was  bitterly  experiencing  the  truth  of  the  political  maxim, 
that  if  the  great  have  frequent  need  of  base  tools,  they  make 
amends  to  society  by  abandoning  them  to  their  fate  so  soon 
as  they  find  them  no  longer  useful. 

This  was  Hayraddin  Maugrabin,  who,  surrendered  by  the 
Duke's  officers  to  the  King's  provost-marshal,  was  by  him 
placed  in  the  hands  of  his  two  trusty  aides-de-camp,  Trois- 
Eschelles  and  Petit- Andr6,  to  be  despatched  without  loss  of 
time.  One  on  either  side  of  him,  and  followed  by  a  few 
guards  and  a  multitude  of  rabble — this  playing  the  allearo, 
that  the  penseroso — he  was  marched  off  (to  use  a  modern 

8d4 


qUENTIN  DURWARD  895 

comparison,  like  Garrick  between  Tragedy  and  Comedy)  to 
the  neighboring  forest ;  where,  to  save  all  further  trouble  and 
ceremonial  of  a  gibbet  and  so  forth,  the  disposers  of  his  fate 
proposed  to  knit  him  up  to  the  first  sufficient  tree. 

They  were  not  long  in  finding  an  oak,  as  Petit- Andr6  face- 
tiously expressed  it,  fit  to  bear  such  an  acorn  ;  and  placing 
the  wretched  criminal  on  a  bank,  under  a  sufficient  guard, 
they  began  their  extemporaneous  preparations  for  the  final 
catastrophe.  At  that  moment  Hayraddin,  gazing  on  the 
crowd,  encountered  the  eyes  of  Quentin  Durward,  who,  think- 
ing he  recognized  the  countenance  of  his  faithless  guide  in 
that  of  the  detected  impostor,  had  followed  with  the  crowd 
to  witness  the  execution,  and  assure  himself  of  the  identity. 

When  the  executioners  informed  him  that  all  was  ready, 
Hayraddin,  with  much  calmness,  asked  a  single  boon  at  their 
hands. 

''  Anything,  my  son,  consistent  with  our  office,"  said  Trois- 
Eschelles. 

"  That  is,"  said  Hayraddin,  ''  anything  but  my  life." 

"Even  so,"  said  Trois-Eschelles,  *^and  something  more; 
for  as  you  seem  resolved  to  do  credit  to  our  mystery,  and  die 
like  a  man,  without  making  wry  mouths — why,  though  our 
orders  are  to  be  prompt,  I  care  not  if  I  indulge  you  ten 
minutes  longer." 

"  You  are  even  too  generous,"  said  Hayraddin. 

"  Truly  we  may  be  blamed  for  it,"  said  Petit- Andr6  ;  "  but 
what  of  that  ?  I  could  consent  almost  to  give  my  life  for  such 
a  jerry- come-tumble,  such  a  smart,  tight,  firm  lad,  who  pro- 
poses to  come  from  aloft  with  a  grace,  as  an  honest  fellow 
should  do." 

*'  So  that  if  yoa  want  a  confessor,"  said  Trois-Eschelles 

"  Or  a  lire  of  wine,"  said  his  facetious  companion 

'*  Or  a  psalm,"  said  Tragedy 

'*  Or  a  song,"  said  Comedy 

'*  Neither,  my  good,  kind,  and  most  expeditious  friends," 
said  the  Bohemian  ;  '^^  I  only  pray  to  speak  a  few  minutes 
with  yonder  archer  of  the  Scottish  Guard." 

The  executioners  hesitated  a  moment ;  but  Trois-Eschelles 
recollecting  that  Quentin  Durward  was  believed,  from  various 
circumstances,  to  stand  high  in  the  favor  of  their  master. 
King  Louis,  they  resolved  to  permit  the  interview. 

When  Quentin,  at  their  summons,  approached  the  con- 
demned criminal,  he  could  not  but  be  shocked  at  his  appear- 
ance, however  justly  his  doom  might  have  been  deserved. 
The  remnants  of  his  heraldic  finery,  rent  to  tatters  by  the 


396  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

fangs  of  the  dogs,  and  the  clutches  of  the  bipeds  who  had 
rescued  him  from  their  fury  to  lead  him  to  the  gallows, 

fave  him  at  once  a  ludicrous  and  a  wretched  appearance. 
[is  face  was  discolored  with  paint,  and  with  some  remnants 
of  a  fictitious  beard,  assumed  for  the  purpose  of  disguise, 
and  there  was  the  paleness  of  death  upon  his  cheek  and 
upon  his  lip  ;  yet,  strong  in  passive  courage,  like  most  of 
his  tribe,  his  eye,  while  it  glistened  and  wandered,  as  well 
as  the  contorted  smile  of  his  mouth,  seemed  to  bid  defiance 
to  the  death  he  was  about  to  die. 

Quentin  was  struck  partly  with  horror,  partly  with  com- 
passion, as  he  approached  the  miserable  man,  and  these 
feelings  probably  betrayed  themselves  in  his  manner,  for 
Petit- Andre  called  out,  "  Trip  it  more  smartly,  jolly  archer  ^ 
this  gentleman^s  leisure  cannot  wait  for  you,  if  you  walk 
as  if  the  pebbles  were  eggs,  and  you  afraid  of  breaking 
them.'* 

"  I  must  speak  with  him  in  privacy,"  said  the  criminal,  des- 
pair seeming  to  croak  in  his  accent  as  he  uttered  the  words. 

*'  That  may  hardly  consist  with  our  office,  my  merry  leap- 
the-ladder,  said  Petit- Andre  ;  "  we  know  you  for  a  slippery 
eel  of  old." 

'^  I  am  tied  with  your  horse-girths,  hand  and  foot,"  said 
the  criminal.  "  You  may  keep  guard  around  me,  though 
out  of  earshot ;  the  archer  is  your  own  King^s  servant.  And 
if  I  give  you  ten  guilders-  — " 

''  Laid  out  in  masses,  the  sum  may  profit  his  poor  soul," 
aaid  Trois-Eschelles. 

'*  Laid  out  in  wine  or  brantwein,  it  will  comfort  my  poor 
body,"  responded  Petit- Andre.  ''  So  let  them  be  forthcom- 
ing, my  little  crack-rope." 

''Pay  the  bloodhounds  their  fee,"  said  Hayraddin  to 
Durward  ;  ''  I  was  plundered  of  every  stiver  when  they  took 
me  ;  it  shall  avail  thee  much." 

Quentin  paid  the  executioners  their  guerdon,  and,  like 
men  of  promise,  they  retreated  out  of  .hearing — keeping, 
however,  a  careful  eye  on  the  criminals  motions.  After 
waiting  an  instant  till  the  unhappy  man  should  speak,  as  he 
still  remained  silent,  Quentin  at  length  addressed  him, 
"  And  to  this  conclusion  thou  hast  at  length  arrived  ?" 

''Ay,"  answered  Hayraddin,  "  it  required  neither  astrolo- 
ger, nor  physiognomist,  nor  chiromantist,  to  foretell  that  I 
should  follow  the  destiny  of  my  family." 

"  Brought  to  this  early  end  by  thy  long  course  of  orime 
and  treachery  I "  said  the  Scot* 


qUENTIN  DURWABD  397 

''No,  by  the  bright  Aldf  .^ran  and  all  his  brother  twin- 
klers  ! "  answered  the  Bohe  ^  lan.  **  I  am  brought  hither  by 
my  folly,  in  believing  that  the  bloodthirsty  cruelty  of  a  Frank 
could  be  restrained  even  by  what  they  themselves  profess  to 
hold  most  sacred.  A  priest's  vestment  would  have  been  no 
safer  garb  for  me  than  a  herald's  tabard,  however  sancti- 
Tionious  are  your  professions  of  devotion  and  chivalry/' 

'*  A  detected  impostor  has  no  right  to  claim  the  immunities 
of  the  disguise  he  had  usurped,"  said  Durward. 

''Detected!"  said  the  Bohemian.  "  My  jargon  was  as 
much  to  the  purpose  as  yonder  old  fool  of  a  herald's  ;  but 
let  it  pass-     As  well  now  as  hereafter." 

"  You  abuse  time,"  said  Quentin.  '^  If  you  have  aught 
to  tell  me,  say  it  quickly,  and  then  take  some  care  of  your 
soul." 

''  Of  my  soul  ! "  said  the  Bohemian,  with  a  hideous  laugh. 
'^  Think  ye  a  leprosy  of  twenty  years  can  be  cured  in  an  in- 
stant ?  If  I  have  a  soul,  it  hath  been  in  such  a  course  since 
I  was  ten  years  old  and  more,  that  it  would  take  me  one 
month  to  recall  all  my  crimes,  and  another  to  tell  the  priest ; 
and  were  such  space  granted  me,  it  is  five  to  one  I  would 
employ  it  otherwise." 

*'  Hardened  wretch,  blaspheme  not  !  Tell  me  what  thou 
hast  to  say,  and  I  leave  thee  to  thy  fate,"  said  Durward, 
with  mingled  pity  and  horror. 

''  1  have  a  boon  to  ask,"  said  Hayraddin,  "  but  first  I  will 
buy  it  of  you  ;  for  your  tribe,  with  all  their  professions  of 
charity,  give  nought  for  nought." 

"I  could  wellnigh  say  *  Thy  gift  perish  with  thee,'" 
answered  Quentin,  '^  but  that  thou  art  on  the  very  verge  of 
eternity.  Ask  thy  boon  ;  reserve  thy  bounty,  it  can  do  me 
no  good.  I  remember  enough  of  your  good  offices  of 
old." 

"  Why,  I  loved  you,"  said  Hayraddin,  "  for  the  matter 
that  chanced  on  the  banks  of  the  Cher  ;  and  I  would  have 
helped  you  to  a  wealthy  dame.  You  wore  her  scarf,  which 
partly  misled  me  ;  and  indeed  I  thought  that  Hameline, 
with  her  portable  wealth,  was  more  for  your  market-penny 
than  the  other  hen-sparrow,  with  her  old  roots  at  Bracque- 
mont,  which  Charles  has  clutched,  and  is  likely  to  keep  his 
claws  upon." 

"  Talk  not  so  idly,  unhappy  man,"  said  Quentin  ;  '^yonder 
officers  become  impatient." 

^'  Give  them  ten  guilders  for  ten  minutes  more,"  said  the 
culprit,  who,  like  most  in  his  situation,  mixed  with  his  hardi- 


308  WA  VERLEY  NO VEL8 

hood  a  desire  of  procrastinating  his  fate ;  ^'1  tell  thee  it 
shall  avail  thee  much/' 

*^Use  then  well  the  minutes  so  purchased,"  said  Durward, 
and  easily  made  a  new  bargain  with  the  marshaFs-men. 

This  done,  Hayraddin  continued  :  '^  Yes,  I  assure  you  I 
meant  you  well ;  and  Hameline  would  have  proved  an  easy 
and  convenient  spouse.  Why,  she  has  reconciled  herself 
even  with  the  Boar  of  Ardennes,  though  his  mode  of  wooing 
was  somewhat  of  the  roughest,  and  lords  it  yonder  in  his  sty, 
as  if  she  had  fed  on  mast-husks  and  acorns  all  her  life/' 

*'  Cease  this  brutal  and  untimely  jesting,"  said  Quentin, 
"or,  once  more  I  tell  you,  I  will  leave  you  to  your  fate." 

"  You  are  right "  said  Hayraddin,  after  a  moment's  pause ; 
'*  what  cannot  be  postponed  must  be  faced  !  Well,  know 
then,  I  came  hither  in  this  accursed  disguise,  moved  by  a 
great  reward  from  De  la  Marck,  and  hoping  a  yet  mightier 
one  from  King  Louis,  not  merely  to  bear  the  message  of 
defiance  which  you  may  have  heard  of,  but  to  tell  the  King 
an  important  secret." 

"  It  was  a  fearful  risk,"  said  Durward. 

''  It  was  paid  for  as  such,  and  such  it  hath  proved,"  an- 
swered the  Bohemian.  "  De  la  Marck  attempted  before  to 
communicate  with  Louis  by  means  of  Marthon ;  but  she 
could  not,  it  seems,  approach  nearer  to  him  than  the  astrol- 
oger, to  whom  she  told  all  the  passages  of  the  journey,  and 
of  Schonwaldt ;  but  it  is  a  chance  if  her  tidings  ever  reach 
Louis,  except  in  the  shape  of  a  prophecy.  But  hear  my 
secret,  which  is  more  important  than  aught  she  could  tell. 
William  de  la  Marck  has  assembled  a  numerous  and  strong 
force  within  the  city  of  Liege,  and  augments  it  daily  by 
means  of  the  old  priest's  treasures.  But  he  proposes  not  to 
hazard  a  battle  with  the  chivalry  of  Burgundy,  and  still  less 
to  stand  a  siege  in  the  dismantled  town.  This  he  will  do  : 
he  will  suffer  the  hot-brained  Charles  to  sit  down  before  the 
place  without  opposition,  and  in  the  night,  make  an  outfall 
or  sally  upon  the  leaguer  with  his  whole  force.  Many  he  will 
have  in  French  armor,  who  will  cry  *  France,'  *  St.  Louis,' 
and  *  Denis  Montjoye,'  as  if  there  were  a  strong  body  of 
French  auxiliaries  in  the  city.  This  cannot  choose  but 
strike  utter  confusion  among  the  Burgundians ;  and  if 
King  Louis,  with  his  guards,  attendants,  and  such  soldiers 
as  he  may  have  with  him,  shall  second  his  efforts,  the  Boar 
of  Ardennes  nothing  doubts  the  discomfiture  of  the  whole 
Burgundian  army.  There  is  my  secret,  and  I  bequeath  it  to 
you.     Forward,  or  prevent  the  enterprise — sell  the  intelli- 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  399 

gence  to  King  Louis  or  to  Duke  Charles,  I  care  not.  Save 
or  destroy  whom  thou  wilt  ;  for  my  part,  I  only  grieve  that 
I  cannot  spring  it  like  a  mine,  to  the  destruction  of  them 
all!"    _ 

''  It  is  indeed  an  important  secret,"  said  Quentin,  instantly 
comprehending  how  easily  the  national  jealousy  might  be 
awakened  in  a  camp  consisting  partly  of  French,  partly  of 
Burgundians. 

^'  Ay,  so  it  is,"  answered  Hayraddin  ;  *^and,  now  you  have 
it,  you  would  fain  begone,  and  leave  me  without  granting 
the  boon  for  which  I  have  paid  beforehand." 

"  Tell  me  thy  request,"  said  Quentin  ;  '*  I  will  grant  it  if 
it  be  in  m^y  power." 

*'  Nay,  it  IS  no  mighty  demand  :  it  is  only  in  behalf  of  poor 
Klepper,  my  palfrey,  the  only  living  thing  that  may  miss 
me.  A  due  mile  south  you  will  find  hini  feeding  by  a  de- 
serted collier's  hut ;  whistle  to  him  thus  (he  whistled  a 
peculiar  note),  and  call  him  by  his  name,  Klepper,  he  will 
come  to  you  ;  here  is  his  bridle  under  my  gaberdine — it  is 
lucky  the  hounds  got  it  not,  for  he  obeys  no  other.  Take 
him,  and  make  much  of  him,  I  do  not  say  for  his  master's 
sake,  but  because  I  have  placed  at  your  disposal  the  event  of 
a  mighty  war.  He  will  never  fail  you  at  need  ;  night  and 
day,  rough  and  smooth,"  fair  and  foul,  warm  stables  and  the 
winter  sky,  are  the  same  to  Klepper  ;  had  I  cleared  the  gates 
of  Peronne,  and  got  so  far  as  where  I  left  him,  I  had  not 
been  in  this  case.     Will  you  be  kind  to  Klepper  ?  " 

^'I  swear  to  you  that  1  will,"  answered  (juentin,  affected 
by  what  seemed  a  trait  of  tenderness  in  a  character  so  hard- 
ened. 

*'  Then  fare  thee  well  !  "  said  the  criminal.  '^  Yet  stay — 
stay  ;  I  would  not  willingly  die  in  discourtesy,  forgetting  a 
lady's  commission.  This  billet  is  from  the  very  gracious  and 
extremely  silly  Lady  of  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes  to  her 
black-eyed  niece — I  see  by  your  look  I  have  chosen  a  willing 
messenger.  And  one  word  more — I  forgot  to  say,  that  in 
the  stuffing  of  my  saddle  you  will  find  a  rich  purse  of  gold 
pieces,  for  the  sake  of  which  I  put  my  life  on  the  venture  which 
has  cost  me  so  dear.  Take  them,  and  replace  a  hundredfold 
the  guilders  you  have  bestowed  on  these  bloody  slaves.  I 
make  you  mine  heir." 

"  I  will  bestow  them  in  good  works,  and  masses  for  the 
benefit  of  thy  soul,"  said  Quentin. 

*'Name  not  that  word  again,"  said  Hayraddin,  his  coun- 
tenance assuming  a  dreadful  expression  ;  ''  there  is — there 


400  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

can  be — there  shall  be — no  such  thing  I  it  is  rt  ai'cam  of 
priestcraft ! " 

'*  Unhappy — most  unhappy  being  !  Think  better  !  Let 
me  speed  for  a  priest;  these  men  will  delay  yet  a  little 
longer,  I  will  bribe  them  to  it,"  said  Quentin.  ''What 
canst  thou  expect,  dying  in  such  opinions,  and  impenitent  ?'* 

"  To  be  resolved  into  the  elements,"  said  the  hardened 
atheist,  pressing  his  fettered  arms  against  his  bosom  ;  *'  my 
hope,  trust,  and  expectation  is,  that  the  mysterious  frame  of 
humanity  shall  melt  into  the  general  mass  of  nature,  to  be 
recompounded  in  the  other  forms  with  which  she  daily  sup- 
plies those  which  daily  disappear,  and  return  under  different 
forms — the  watery  particles  to  streams  and  showers,  the 
earthly  parts  to  enrich  their  mother  earth,  the  airy  portions 
to  wanton  in  the  breeze,  and  those  of  fire  to  supply  the  blaze 
of  Aldebaran  and  his  brethren.  In  this  faith  have  I  lived, 
and  I  will  die  in  it !  Hence  !  begone  !  disturb  me  no  farther  ! 
I  have  spoken  the  last  word  that  mortal  ears  shall  listen  to  ! " 

Deeply  impressed  with  the  horrors  of  his  condition, 
Quentin  Durward  yet  saw  that  it  was  vain  to  hope  to  awaken 
him  to  a  sense  of  his  fearful  state.  He  bid  him,  therefore, 
farewell ;  to  which  the  criminal  only  replied  by  a  short  and 
sullen  nod,  as  one  who,  plunged  in  reverie,  bids  adieu  to 
company  which  distracts  his  thoughts.  He  bent  his  course 
towards  the  forest,  and  easily  found  where  Klepper  was  feed- 
ing. The  creature  came  at  his  call,  but  was  for  some  time 
unwilling  to  be  caught,  snuffing  and  starting  when  the 
stranger  approached  him.  At  length,  however,  Quentin's 
general  acquaintance  with  the  habits  of  the  animal,  and  per- 
haps some  particular  knowledge  of  those  of  Klepper,  which 
he  had  often  admired  while  Hayraddin  and  he  traveled  to- 
gether, enabled  him  to  take  possession  of  the  Bohemian's 
dying  bequest.  Long  ere  he  returned  to  Peronne,  the  Bohe- 
mian had  gone  where  the  vanity  of  his  dreadful  creed  was 
to  be  put  to  the  final  issue — a  fearful  experience  for  one  who 
had  neither  expressed  remorse  for  the  past  nor  apprehension 
for  the  future  I 


•iiMs:  hOimaai 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

A     PRIZE     FOR     HOKOB 

Tis  brave  for  beauty  when  the  best  blade  wins  her. 

The  Count  Palatine, 

When  Quentin  Durward  reached  Peronne,  a  council  was 
sitting,  in  the  issue  of  which  he  was  interested  more  deeply 
than  he  could  have  apprehended,  and  which,  though  held 
by  persons  of  a  rank  with  whom  one  of  his  could  scarce  be 
supposed  to  have  community  of  interest,  had  nevertheless 
the  most  extraordinary  influence  on  his  fortune. 

King  Louis,  who,  after  the  interlude  of  De  la  Marck's  en- 
voy, had  omitted  no  opportunity  to  cultivate  the  returning 
interest  which  that  circumstance  had  given  him  in  the  Duke^s 
opinion,  had  been  engaged  in  consulting  him,  or,  it  might 
be  almost  said,  receiving  his  opinion,  upon  the  number  and 
quality  of  the  troops,  by  whom,  as  auxiliary  to  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy,  he  was  to  be  attended  in  their  joint  expedition 
against  Liege.  He  plainly  saw  the  wish  of  Charles  was  to 
call  into  his  camp  such  Frenchmen  as,  from  their  small  num- 
ber and  high  quality,  might  be  considered  rather  as  hostages 
than  as  auxiliaries ;  but,  observant  of  Cr^vecoeur's  [Des 
Comines']  advice,  he  assented  as  readily  to  whatever  the 
Duke  proposed  as  if  it  had  arisen  from  the  free  impulse  of 
his  own  mind. 

The  King  failed  not,  however,  to  indemnify  himself  for 
his  complaisance  by  the  indulgence  of  his  vindictive  temper 
against  Balue,  whose  counsels  had  led  him  to  repose  such 
exuberant  trust  in  the  Duke  of  Burgundy.  Tristan,  who 
bore  the  summons  for  moving  up  his  auxiliary  forces,  had 
the  farther  commission  to  carry  the  cardinal  to  the  Castle  of 
Loches,  and  there  shut  him  up  in  one  of  those  iron  cages 
which  he  himself  is  said  to  have  invented. 

"  Let  him  make  proof  of  his  own  devices,*'  said  the  King  ; 
^'  he  is  a  man  of  holy  church — we  may  not  shed  his  blood  ; 
but,  Pasques-dieu !  his  bishopric,  for  ten  years  to  come, 
shall  have  an  impregnable  frontier  to  make  up  for  its  small 
extent !  And  see  the  troops  are  brought  up  instantly.'' 
26  401  "^ 


402  WAVEBLET  I^OVJElS 

Perhaps,  by  this  prompt  acquiescence,  Louis  hoped  to 
evade  the  more  unpleasing  condition  with  which  the  Duke 
had  clogged  their  reconciliation.  But  if  he  so  hoped,  he 
greatly  mistook  the  temper  of  his  cousin  ;  for  never  man 
lived  more  tenacious  of  his  purpose  than  Charles  of  Bur- 
gundy, and  least  of  all  was  he  willing  to  relax  any  stipula- 
tion which  he  had  made  in  resentment,  or  revenge,  of  a 
supposed  injury. 

No  sooner  were  the  necessary  expresses  despatched  to  sum- 
mon up  the  forces  who  were  selected  to  act  as  auxiliaries  than 
Louis  was  called  upon  by  his  host  to  give  public  consent  to 
the  espousals  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans  and  Isabelle  of  Croye. 
The  King  complied  with  a  heavy  sigh,  and  presently  after 
urged  a  slight  expostulation,  founded  upon  the  necessity  of 
observing  the  wishes  of  the  duke  himself. 

^'  These  have  not  been  neglected,"  said  the  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy :  '^  Cr^vecoeur  hath  communicated  with  Monsieur 
d'Orleans,  and  finds  him — strange  to  say — so  dead  to  the 
honor  of  wedding  a  royal  bride,  that  he  acceded  to  the  pro- 
posal of  marrying  the  Countess  of  Croye  as  the  kindest  pro- 
posal which  father  could  have  made  to  him/' 

*'  He  is  the  more  ungracious  and  thankless,"  said  Louis  ; 
"  but  the  whole  shall  be  as  you,  my  cousin,  will,  if  you  can 
bring  it  about  with  consent  of  the  parties  themselves." 

^'Fear  not  that,"  said  the  Duke  ;  and  accordingly,  not 
many  minutes  after  the  affair  had  been  proposed,  the  Duke 
of  Orleans  and  the  Countess  of  Croye,  the  latter  attended,  as 
on  the  preceding  occasion,  by  the  Countess  of  Cr^vecoeur 
and  the  abbess  of  the  Ursulines,  were  summoned  to  the  pres- 
ence of  the  princes,  and  heard  from  the  mouth  of  Charles  of 
Burgundy,  unobjected  to  by  that  of  Louis,  who  sat  in  silent 
and  moody  consciousness  of  diminished  consequence,  that 
the  union  of  their  hands  was  designed  by  the  wisdom  of  both 
princes,  to  confirm  the  perpetual  alliance  which  in  future 
should  take  place  betwixt  France  and  Burgundy. 

The  Duke  of  Orleans  had  much  difficulty  in  suppressing 
the  joy  which  he  felt  upon  the  proposal,  and  which  delicacy 
rendered  improper  in  the  presence  of  Louis  ;  and  it  required 
his  habitual  awe  of  that  monarch  to  enable  him  to  rein  in 
his  delight,  so  much  as  merely  to  reply,  "that  his  duty 
compelled  him  to  place  his  choice  at  the  disposal  of  his 
sovereign.*' 

*'  Fair  cousin  of  Orleans,'*  said  Louis,  with  sullen  gravity, 
''since  I  must  speak  on  so  unpleasant  an  occasion,  it  is  need- 
less for  me  to  remind  you  that  my  sense  of  your  merits  had 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  403 

led  me  to  propose  for  yon  a  match  into  my  own  family.  But, 
since  my  cousin  of  Burgundy  thinks  that  the  disposing  of 
your  hand  otherwise  is  the  surest  pledge  of  amity  between 
his  dominions  and  mine,  1  love  both  too  well  not  to  sacrifice 
to  them  my  own  hopes  and  wishes/^ 

The  Duke  of  Orleans  threw  himself  on  his  knees,  and 
kissed,— -and,  for  once,  with  sincerity  of  attachment, — the 
hand  which  the  King,  with  averted  countenance,  extended 
to  him.  In  fact  he,  as  well  as  most  present,  saw,  in  the  un- 
willing acquiescence  of  this  accomplished  dissembler,  who, 
even  with  that  very  purpose,  had  suffered  his  reluctance  to 
be  visible,  a  king  relinquishing  his  favorite  project,  and  sub- 
jugating his  paternal  feelings  to  the  necessities  of  state  and 
interest  of  his  country.  Even  Burgundy  was  moved,  and 
Orleans'  heart  smote  him  for  the  joy  which  he  involuntarily 
felt  on  being  freed  from  his  engagement  with  the  Princess 
Joan.  If  he  had  known  how  deeply  the  King  was  cursing 
him  in  his  soul,  and  what  thoughts  of  future  revenge  he 
was  agitating,  it  is  probable  his  own  delicacy  on  the  occasion 
would  not  have  been  so  much  hurt. 

Charles  next  turned  to  the  young  countess,  and  bluntly 
announced  the  proposcv"'.  match  to  her,  as  a  matter  which 
neither  admitted  delay  nor  hesitation  ;  adding,  at  the  same 
time,  that  it  was  but  a  too  favorable  consequence  of  her  in- 
tractability on  a  former  occasion. 

*'  My  Lord  Duke  and  Sovereign,"  said  Isabelle,  summon- 
ins:  up  all  her  courage,  *'I  observe  your  Grace's  commands, 
and  submit  to  them." 

*' Enough,  enough," said  the  Duke,  interrupting  her,  "we 
will  arrange  the  rest.  Your  Majesty,"  he  continued,  ad- 
dressing King  Louis,  "  hath  had  a  boar's  hunt  in  the  morn- 
ing ;  what  say  you  to  rousing  a  wolf  in  the  afternoon  ?" 

The  young  countess  saw  the  necessity  of  decision.  **  Your 
Grace  mistakes  my  meaning,"  she  said,  speaking,  though 
timidly,  yet  loudly  and  decidedly  enough  to  compel  the 
Duke's  attention,  which,  from  some  consciousness,  he  would 
otherwise  have  willingly  denied  to  her.  "  My  submission," 
she  said,  **  only  respected  those  lands  and  estates  which  your 
Grace's  ancestors  gave  to  mine,  and  which  I  resign  to  the 
house  of  Burgundy  if  my  sovereign  thinks  my  disobedience 
in  this  matter  renders  me  unworthy  to  hold  them." 

"Ha  !  St.  George  !"  said  the  Duke,  stamping  furiously  on 
the  ground,  "  does  the  fool  know  in  what  presence  she  is,  and 
to  whom  she  speaks  ?  " 

"  My  lord,^'  she  replied,  still  undismayed,  "  I  am  before  my 


ft04  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

suzerain,  and,  T  trnst,  a  just  one.  If  you  deprive  me  of  my 
lands,  you  take  away  all  that  your  ancestors'  generosity  gave, 
and  you  break  the  only  bonds  which  attach  us  together. 
You  gave  not  this  poor  and  persecuted  form,  still  less  the 
spirit  which  animates  me.  And  these  it  is  my  purpose  to 
dedicate  to  Heaven  in  the  convent  of  the  Ursulines,  under 
the  guidance  of  this  holy  mother  abbess.'^ 

The  rage  and  astonishment  of  the  Duke  can  hardly  be  con- 
ceived, unless  we  could  estimate  the  surprise  of  a  falcon 
against  whom  a  dove  should  ruffle  its  pinions  in  defiance. 
**  Will  the  holy  mother  receive  you  without  an  appanage  ?  " 
he  said,  in  a  voice  of  scorn. 

"  If  she  doth  her  convent,  in  the  first  instance,  so  much 
wrong,*'  said  the  Lady  Isabelle,  *^I  trust  there  is  charity 
enough  among  the  noble  friends  of  my  house  to  make  up 
some  support  for  the  orphan  of  Oroye." 

'*  It  is  false  !  "  said  the  Duke  ;  ''it  is  a  base  pretext  to  cover 
some  secret  and  unworthy  passion.  My  Lord  of  Orleans, 
she  shall  be  yours,  if  I  drag  her  to  the  altar  with  my  own 
hands!" 

The  Countess  of  Crevecoeur,  a  high-spirited  woman,  and 
confident  in  her  husband's  merits  and  his  favor  with  the 
Duke,  could  keep  silent  no  longer.  *'  My  lord,"  she  said, 
"  your  passions  transport  you  into  language  utterly  unworthy. 
The  hand  of  no  gentlewoman  can  be  disposed  of  by  force." 

"And  it  is  no  part  of  the  duty  of  a  Christian  prince," 
added  the  abbess,  "  to  thwart  the  wishes  of  a  pious  soul,  who, 
broken  with  the  cares  and  persecutions  of  the  world,  is  de- 
sirous to  become  the  bride  of  Heaven." 

"  Neither  can  my  cousin  of  Orleans,"  said  Dunois,  *'  with 
honor  accept  a  proposal  to  which  the  lady  has  thus  pub- 
licly stated  her  objections." 

'^  If  I  were  permitted,"  said  Orleans,  on  whose  facile  mind 
Isabelle's  beauty  had  made  a  deep  impression,  "sometime  to 
endeavor  to  place  my  pretensions  before  the  countess  in  a 
more  favorable  light- " 

"  My  lord,"  said  Isabelle,  whose  firmness  was  now  fully 
supported  by  the  encouragement  which  she  received  from  all 
around,  "  it  were  to  no  purpose  :  my  mind  is  made  up  to 
decline  this  alliance,  though  far  above  my  deserts." 

"Nor  have  I  time,"  said  the  Duke,  "to  wait  till  these 
whimsies  are  changed  with  the  next  change  of  the  moon. 
Monseigneur  d'Orleans,  she  shall  learn  within  this  hour  that 
obedience  becomes  matter  of  necessity." 

"  Not  in  my  behalf,  sire,"  answered  the  prince,  who  felt 


QUENTIN  BURWABB  405 

that  he  could  not,  with  any  show  of  honor,  avail  himself  of 
the  Duke^s  obstinate  disposition  ;  "  to  have  been  once  openly 
and  positively  refused  is  enough  for  a  son  of  France.  He 
cannot  prosecute  his  addresses  farther." 

The  Duke  darted  one  furious  glance  at  Orleans,  another  at 
Louis  ;  and  reading  in  the  countenance  of  the  latter,  in  spite 
of  his  utmost  efforts  to  suppress  his  feelings,  a  look  of  secret 
triumph,  he  became  outrageous. 

''  Write/'*  he  said  to  the  secretary,  "  our  doom  of  forfeiture 
and  imprisonment  against  this  disobedient  and  insolent 
minion.  She  shall  to  the  zuchthaus,  to  the  penitentiary,  to 
herd  with  those  lives  have  rendered  them  her  rivals  in 
effrontery  ! " 

There  was  a  general  murmur. 

^'  My  lord  Duke,"  said  the  Count  of  Crevecceur,  taking 
the  word  for  the  rest,  "  this  must  be  better  thought  on.  We, 
your  faithful  vassals,  cannot  suffer  such  a  dishonor  to  the 
nobility  and  chivalry  of  Burgundy.  If  the  countess  hath 
done  amiss,  let  her  be  punished,  but  in  the  manner  that  be- 
comes her  rank  and  ours,  who  stand  connected  with  her 
house  by  blood  and  alliance." 

The  Duke  paused  a  moment,  and  looked  full  at  his  coun- 
selor with  the  stpre  of  a  bull  which,  when  compelled  by  the 
neatherd  from  the  road  which  he  wishes  to  go,  deliberates 
with  himself  Avhether  to  obey  or  to  rush  on  his  driver  and 
toss  him  into  the  air. 

Prudence,  however,  prevailed  over  fury  ;  he  saw  the  senti- 
ment was  general  in  his  council,  was  afraid  of  the  advantages 
which  Louis  might  derive  from  seeing  dissension  among  his 
vassals  ;  and  probably,  for  he  was  rather  of  a  coarse  and 
violent  than  of  a  malignant  temper,  felt  ashamed  of  his  own 
dishonorable  proposal. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said,  "  Crevecceur,  and  I  spoke  hastily. 
Her  fate  shall  be  determined  according  to  the  rules  of 
chivalry.  Her  flight  to  Liege  hath  given  the  signal  for  the 
bishop's  murder.  He  that  best  avenges  that  deed,  and  brings 
us  the  head  of  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes,  shall  claim  her 
hand  of  us  ;  and  if  she  denies  his  right,  we  can  at  least  grant 
him  her  fiefs,  leaving  it  to  his  generosity  to  allow  her  what 
means  he  will  to  retire  into  a  convent." 

^'  Nay  !"  said  the  countess,  **  think  I  am  the  daughter  of 
Count  Reinold — of  your  father's  old,  valiant,  and  faithful 
servant.  Would  you  hold  me  out  as  a  prize  to  the  best 
sword-player  ?  " 

*'  Your  ancestress,"  said  the  Duke,  "  was  won  at  a  tour- 


40<$  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS. 

ney  ;  you  shall  be  fought  for  in  real  melee.  Only  thus  far, 
for  Count  Reinold's  sake,  the  successful  prizer  shall  be  a 
gentleman,  of  unimpeached  birth  and  unstained  bearings  ; 
but,  be  he  such,  and  the  poorest  who  ever  drew  the  strap  of 
a  sword-belt  through  the  tongue  of  a  buckle,  he  shall  have  at 
least  the  proffer  of  your  hand.  I  swear  it,  by  St.  George, 
by  my  ducal  crown,  and  by  the  order  that  I  wear !  Ha  ! 
messires,"  he  added,  turning  to  the  nobles  present,  ''this  at 
least  is,  I  think,  in  conformity  with  the  rules  of  chivalry  ?  " 

Isabelle's  remonstrances  were  drowned  in  a  general  and 
jubilant  assent,  above  which  was  heard  the  voice  of  old  Lord 
Crawford,  regretting  the  weight  of  years  that  prevented  his 
striking  for  so  fair  a  prize.  The  Duke  was  gratified  by  tlie 
general  applause,  and  his  temper  began  to  flow  more  smoothly 
like  that  of  a  swollen  river  when  it  hath  subsided  within  its 
natural  boundries. 

''Are  we,  to  whom  fate  has  given  dames  already,^' said 
Crdvecoeur,  "to  be  bystanders  at  this  fair  game  ?  It  does 
not  consist  with  my  honor  to  be  so,  for  I  have  myself  a  vow 
to  be  paid  at  the  expense  of  that  tusked  and  bristled  brute, 
De  la  Marck." 

"  Strike  boldly  in,  Cr^vecceur,"  said  the  Duke  ;  "  win  her 
and  since  thou  canst  not  wear  her  thyself,  bestow  her 
where  thou  wilt — on  Count  Stephen,  your  nephew,  if  you 
list/' 

"  Gramercy,  my  lord  I'*  said  Crevecceur,  "  I  will  do  my 
best  in  the  battle  ;  and,  should  I  be  fortunate  enough  to  be 
foremost,  Stephen  shall  try  his  eloquence  against  that  of  the 
lady  abbess. ''^ 

''  I  trust,''  said  Dunois,  "  that  the  chivalry  of  France  aro 
not  excluded  from  this  fair  contest  ?" 

"  Heaven  forbid  !  brave  Dunois,"  answered  the  Duke, 
"  were  it  but  for  the  sake  of  seeing  you  do  your  uttermost. 
But,"  he  added,  "  though  there  be  no  fault  in  the  Lady 
Isabelle  wedding  a  Frenchman,  it  will  be  necessary  that  the. 
Count  of  Croye  must  become  a  subject  of  Burgundy." 

"  Enough,  enough,^'  said  Dunois,  "  my  bar  sinister  may 
never  be  surmounted  by  the  coronet  of  Croye  :  I  will  live 
and  die  French.  But  yet,  though  I  should  lose  the  lands,  I 
will  strike  a  blow  for  the  lady." 

Le  Balafr6  dared  not  speak  aloud  in  such  a  presence,  but 
he  muttered  to  himself — "  Now,  Saunders  Souplejaw,  hold 
thine  own  !  Thou  always  saidst  the  fortune  of  our  house 
was  to  be  won  by  marriage,  and  uever  had  you  such  a  chance 
to  keep  your  word  with  us.*' 


qVENTIN  D Un  WABl)  4ffl 

*'No  one  thinks  of  me,"  said  Le  Glorieux,  *' who  am  sure 
to  carry  off  the  prize  from  all  of  you/' 

"  Right,  my  sapient  friend/'  said  Louis  ;  "  when  a 
woman  is  in  the  case,  the  greatest  fool  is  ever  the  first  in 
favor/' 

While  the  princes  and  their  nobles  thus  jested  over  her 
fate,  the  abbess  and  the  Countess  of  Crevecceur  endeavored 
in  vain  to  console  Isabelle,  who  had  withdrawn  with  them 
from  the  council-presence.  The  former  assured  her,  that 
the  Holy  Virgin  would  frown  on  every  attempt  to  withdraw 
a  true  votress  from  the  shrine  of  Saint  Ursula ;  while  the 
Countess  of  Crevecceur  whispered  more  temporal  consolation, 
that  no  true  knight,  who  might  succeed  in  the  emprize  pro- 
posed, would  avail  himself,  against  her  inclinations,  of  the 
Duke's  award  ;  and  that  perhaps  the  successful  competitor 
might  prove  one  who  should  find  such  favor  in  her  eyes  as 
to  reconcile  her  to  obedience.  Love,  like  despair,  catches  at 
straws  ;  and,  faint  and  vague  as  was  the  hope  which  this  in- 
sinuation conveyed,  the  tears  of  the  Countess  Isabelle 
flowed  more  placidly  while  she  dwelt  upon  it.* 

*  Sdtt  Frizm  of  Honor.    Not«  4?. 


'*X  'Ut^'Ui. 


^%t  '  ^"«  Bjb'Jao^  Hid  \di  I 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

THE   SALLY 

The  wretch  condemn'd  with  life  to  part 

Still,  still  on  hope  relies, 
And  every  pang  that  rends  the  heart 

Bids  expectation  rise. 

Hope,  like  the  glimmering  taper's  light, 

Adorns  and  cheers  the  way, 
And  still  the  darker  grows  the  night, 

Emits  a  brighter  ray. 

Goldsmith. 

Few  days  had  passed  ere  Louis  had  received,  with  a  smile 
of  gratified  vengeance,  the  intelligence  that  his  favorite  and 
his  counselor,  the  Cardinal  Balue,  was  groaning  within  a 
cage  of  iron,  so  disposed  as  scarce  to  permit  him  to  enjoy 
repose  in  any  posture  except  when  recumbent ;  and  of  which 
be  it  said  in  passing,  he  remained  the  unpitied  tenant  for 
nearly  twelve  years.  The  auxiliary  forces  which  the  Duke 
had  required  Louis  to  bring  up  had  also  appeared  ;  and  he 
comforted  himself  that  their  numbers  were  sufficient  to  pro- 
tect his  person  against  violence,  although  too  limited  to  cope, 
had  such  been  his  purpose,  with  the  large  army  of  Burgundy. 
He  saw  himself  also  at  liberty,  when  time  should  suit,  to 
resume  his  project  of  marriage  between  his  daughter  and 
the  Duke  of  Orleans  ;  and,  although  he  was  sensible  to  the 
indignity  of  serving  wdth  his  noblest  peers  under  the  banners 
of  his  own  vassal,  and  against  the  people  whose  cause  he  had 
abetted,  he  did  not  allow  these  circumstances  to  embarrass 
him  in  the  meantime,  trusting  that  a  future  day  would  bring 
him  amends.  *'  For  chance,"  said  he  to  his  trusty  Oliver, 
* '  may  indeed  gain  one  hit,  but  it  is  patience  and  wisdom 
which  win  the  game  at  last." 

With  such  sentiments,  upon  a  beautiful  day  in  the  latter 
end  of  harvest,  the  King  mounted  his  horse  ;  and  indifferent 
that  he  was  looked  upon  rather  as  a  part  of  the  pageant  of  a 
victor  than  in  the  light  of  an  independent  sovereign  sur- 
rounded by  his  guards  and  his  chivalry,  King  Louis  sallied 

406 


QUENTIN  DUBWABD  406 

from  under  the  Gothic  gateway  of  Peronne  to  join  the  Bur- 
gundian  army,  which  commenced  at  the  same  time  its  march 
against  Liege. 

Most  of  the  ladies  of  distinction  who  were  in  the  place 
attended,  dressed  in  their  best  array,  upon  the  battlements 
and  defenses  of  the  gate,  to  see  the  gallant  show  of  the  war- 
riors setting  forth  on  the  expedition.  Thither  had  the  Coun- 
tess Or^vecoeur  brought  the  Countess  Isabelle.  The  latter 
attended  very  reluctantly ;  but  the  peremptory  order  of 
Charles  had  been,  that  she  who  was  to  bestow  the  palm  in 
the  tourney,  should  be  visible  to  the  knights  who  were  about 
to  enter  the  lists. 

As  they  thronged  out  from  under  the  arch,  many  a  pennon 
and  shield  was  to  be  seen,  graced  with  fresh  devices,  ex- 
pressive of  the  bearer's  devoted  resolution  to  become  a  com- 
petitor for  a  prize  so  fair.  Here  a  charger  was  painted  start- 
ing for  the  goal,  there  an  arrow  aimed  at  a  mark  ;  one 
knight  bore  a  bleeding  heart,  indicative  of  his  passion, 
another  a  skull  and  a  coronet  of  laurels,  showing  his  deter- 
mination to  win  or  die.  Many  others  there  were  ;  and  some 
so  cunningly  intricate,  and  obscure,  that  they  might  have 
defied  the  most  ingenious  interpreter.  Each  knight,  too, 
it  may  be  presumed,  put  his  courser  to  his  mettle,  and  as- 
sumed his  most  gallant  seat  in  the  saddle,  as  he  passed  for 
a  moment  under  the  view  of  the  fair  bevy  of  dames  and 
damsels,  who  encouraged  their  valor  by  their  smiles,  and 
the  waving  of  kerchiefs  and  of  veils.  The  Archer  Guard, 
selected  almost  at  will  from  the  flower  of  the  Scottish  nation, 
drew  general  applause,  from  the  gallantry  and  splendor  of 
their  appearance. 

And  there  was  one  among  these  strangers  who  ventured 
on  a  demonstration  of  acquaintance  with  the  Lady  Isabelle 
which  had  not  been  attempted  even  by  the  most  noble  of 
the  French  nobility.  It  was  Quentin  Durward,  who,  as  he 
passed  the  ladies  in  his  rank,  presented  to  the  Countess  of 
Croye,  on  the  point  of  his  lance,  the  letter  of  her  aunt. 

**  Now,  by  my  honor,''  said  the  Count  of  CrevecoBur,  *'  that 
is  over  insolent  in  an  unworthy  adventurer  ! " 

*^  Do  not  call  him  so,  Cr^vecoeur,"  said  Dunois  ;  "  I  have 
good  reason  to  bear  testimony  to  his  gallantry,  and  in  behalf 
of  that  lady,  too." 

"You  make  words  of  nothing,"  said  Isabelle,  blushing 
with  shame,  and  partly  with  resentment;  "it  is  a  letter 
from  my  unfortunate  aunt :  she  writes  cheerfully,  though 
her  situation  must  be  dreadful." 


410  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  Let  us  hear — let  us  hear  what  says  the  Boar's  bride,** 
said  Or^vecoeur. 

The  Countess  Isabelle  read  the  letter,  in  which  her  aunt 
seemed  determined  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  bargain,  and 
to  console  herself  for  the  haste  and  indecorum  of  her  nup- 
tials by  the  happiness  of  being  wedded  to  one  of  the  bravest 
men  of  the  age,  who  had  just  acquired  a  princedom  by  his 
valor.  She  implored  her  niece  not  to  judge  of  her  William, 
as  she  called  him,  by  the  report  of  others,  but  to  wait  till 
she  knew  him  personally.  He  had  his  faults,  perhaps,  but 
they  were  such  as  belonged  to  characters  whom  she  had  ever 
venerated.  William  was  rather  addicted  to  wine,  but  so  was 
the  gallant  Sir  Godfrey,  her  grandsire  ;  he  was  something 
hasty  and  sanguinary  in  his  temper,  such  had  been  her  brother, 
Reinold  of  blessed  memory  ;  he  was  blunt  in  speech,  few 
Germans  were  otherwise  ;  and  a  little  wilful  and  peremptory, 
but  she  believed  all  men  loved  to  rule.  More  there  was  to 
the  same  purpose  ;  and  the  whole  concluded  with  the  hope 
and  request  that  Isabelle  would,  by  means  of  the  bearer,  en- 
deavor her  escape  from  the  tyrant  of  Burgundy,  and  come 
to  her  loving  kinswoman's  court  of  Liege,  where  any  little 
differences  concerning  their  mutual  rights  of  succession  to 
the  earldom  might  be  adjusted  by  Isabelle's  marrying  Carl 
Eberson — a  bridegroom  younger  indeed  than  his  bride,  but 
that,  as  she  (the  Lady  Hameline)  might  perhaps  say  from 
experience,  was  an  inequality  more  easy  to  be  endured  than 
Isabelle  could  be  aware  of.* 

Here  the  Countess  Isabelle  stopped  ;  the  abbess  observing, 
with  a  prim  aspect,  that  she  had  read  quite  enough  concern- 
ing such  worldly  vanities,  and  the  Count  of  Crevecoeur 
breaking  out,  ''  Aroint  thee,  deceitful  witch  !  Why,  this 
device  smells  rank  as  the  toasted  cheese  in  a  rat-trap.  Now 
fie,  and  double  fie,  upon  the  old  decoy-duck  \" 

The  Countess  of  Crevecoeur  gravely  rebuked  her  husband 
for  his  violence.  ^'  The  Lady  Hameline,'^  she  said,  '^  must 
have  been  deceived  by  De  la  Marck  with  a  show  of  cour- 
tesy.'' 

^*  He  show  courtesy  !  "  said  the  count ;  '^I  acquit  him  of 
all  such  dissimulation.  You  may  as  well  expect  courtesy 
from  a  literal  wild  boar  ;  you  may  as  well  try  to  lay  leaf -gold 
on  old  rusty  gibbet-irons.  No — idiot  as  she  is,  she  is  not 
quite  goose  enough  to  fall  in  love  with  the  fox  who  has 
snapped  her,  and  that  in  his  very  den.  But  you  women  are 
all  alike — fair  words  carry  it ;  and,  I  dare  saj^,  here  is  my 

♦  See  Bride  of  De  la  Marck.    Note  48. 


QUENTIN  nURWARD  411 

pretty  coasin  impatient  to  join  her  aunt  in  this  fool's  para- 
dise, and  marry  the  Boar-Pig." 

''So  far  from  being  capable  of  such  f^lly,"  said  Isabella, 
''  1  am  doubly  desirous  of  vengeance  on  the  murderers  of  the 
excellent  bishop,  because  it  will,  at  the  same  time,  free  my 
aunt  from  the  villain's  power/' 

*' Ah  !  there  indeed  spoke  the  voice  of  Croye  ! "  exclaimed 
the  count ;  and  no  more  was  said  concerning  the  letter. 

But  while  Isabel] e  read  her  aunt's  epistle  to  her  friends, 
it  must  be  observed  that  she  did  not  think  it  necessary  to 
recite  a  certain  postscript,  in  which  the  Countess  Hameline, 
lady -like,  gave  an  account  of  her  occupations,  and  informed 
her  niece  that  she  had  laid  aside  for  the  present  a  surcoat 
which  she  was  working  for  her  husband,  bearing  the  arms  of 
Croye  and  La  Marck  in  conjugal  fashion,  parted  per  pale, 
because  her  William  had  determined,  for  purposes  of  policy, 
in  the  first  action  to  have  others  dressed  in  his  coat-armor, 
and  himself  to  assume  the  arms  of  Orleans,  with  a  bar  sin- 
ister— in  other  words,  those  of  Dunois.  There  was  also  a 
slip  of  paper  in  another  hand,  the  contents  of  which  the 
countess  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  mention,  being  simply 
these  words  :  ''  If  you  hear  not  of  me  soon,  and  that  by  the 
trumpet  of  Fame,  conclude  me  dead,  but  not  unworthy." 

A  thought,  hitherto  repelled  as  wildly  incredible,  now 
glanced  with  double  keenness  through  Isabelle's  soul.  As 
female  wit  seldom  fails  in  the  contrivance  of  means,  she  so 
ordered  it,  that  ere  the  troops  were  fully  on  march,  Quentin 
Durward  received  from  an  unknown  hand  the  billet  of  Lady 
Hameline,  marked  with  three  crosses  opposite  to  the  post- 
script, and  having  these  words  subjoined  ;  *'  He  who  feared* 
not  the  arms  of  Orleans  when  on  the  breast  of  their  gallant 
owner  cannot  dread  them  when  displayed  on  that  of  a  tyrant 
and  murderer."  A  thousand  thousand  times  was  this  inti- 
mation kissed  and  pressed  to  the  bosom  of  the  young  Scot ! 
for  it  marshaled  him  on  the  path  where  both  honor  and  love 
held  out  the  reward,  and  possessed  him  with  a  secret  un- 
known to  others,  by  which  to  distinguish  him  whose  death 
could  alone  give  life  to  his  hopes,  and  which  he  prudently 
resolved  to  lock  up  in  his  own  bosom. 

But  Durward  saw  the  necessity  of  acting  otherwise  respect- 
ing the  information  communicated  by  Hayraddin,  since  the 
proposed  sally  of  De  la  Marck,  unless  heedfully  guarded 
against,  might  prove  the  destruction  of  the  besieging  army  ; 
so  difficult  was  it,  in  the  tumultuous  warfare  of  those  days, 
to  recover  from  a  nocturnal  surprise.     After  pondering  o^ 


m  WAVEttLtlY  NOVELL 

the  matter,  he  formed  the  additional  resolution,  that  he 
would  not  communicate  the  intelligence  save  personally,  and 
to  both  the  princes  while  together  ;  perhaps  because  he  felt 
that,  to  mention  so  well-contrived  and  hopeful  a  scheme  to 
Louis  whilst  in  private  might  be  too  strong  a  temptation  to 
the  wavering  probity  of  that  monarch,  and  lead  him  to  assist 
rather  than  repel  the  intended  sally.  He  determined,  there- 
fore, to  watch  for  an  opportunity  of  revealing  the  secret 
whilst  Louis  and  Charles  were  met,  which,  as  they  were  not 
particularly  fond  of  the  constraint  imposed  by  each  other^s 
society,  was  not  likely  soon  to  occur. 

Meanwhile  the  march  continued,  and  the  confederates 
soon  entered  the  territories  of  Liege.  Here  the  Burgundian 
soldiers,  at  least  a  part  of  them,  composed  of  those  bands 
who  had  acquire  the  title  of  ecorcheurs,  or  flayers,  showed 
by  the  usage  which  they  gave  the  inhabitants,  under  pre- 
text  of  avenging  the  bishop's  death,  that  they  well  deserved 
that  honorable  title  ;  while  their  conduct  greatly  prejudiced 
the  cause  of  Charles — the  aggrieved  inhabitants,  who  might 
otherwise  have  been  passive  in  the  qnarrel,  assuming  arms  in 
self-defense,  harassing  his  march,  by  cutting  off  small  parties, 
and  falling  back  before  the  main  body  upon  the  city  itself, 
thus  augmenting  the  numbers  and  desperation  of  those 
who  had  resolved  to  defend  it.  The  French,  few  in  number, 
and  those  the  choice  soldiers  of  the  country,  kept,  according 
to  the  King's  orders,  close  by  their  respective  standards,  and 
observed  the  strictest  discipline  ;  a  contrast  which  increased 
the  suspicions  of  Charles,  who  could  not  help  remarking 
that  the  troops  of  Louis  demeaned  themselves  as  if  they  were 
rather  friends  to  the  Liegeois  than  allies  of  Burgundy. 

At  length,  without  experiencing  any  serious  opposition, 
the  army  arrived  in  the  rich  valley  of  the  Maes,  and  before 
the  large  and  populous  city  of  Liege.  The  Castle  of  Schon- 
waldt  they  found  had  been  totally  destroyed,  and  learned  that 
William  de  la  Marck,  whose  only  talents  were  of  a  military 
cast,  had  withdrawn  his  whole  forces  into  the  city,  and  was 
determined  to  avoid  the  encounter  of  the  chivalry  of  France 
and  Burgundy  in  the  open  field.  But  the  invaders  were  not 
long  of  experiencing  the  danger  which  must  always  exist  in 
attacking  a  large  town,  however  open,  if  the  inhabitants  are 
disposed  to  defend  it  desperately. 

A  part  of  the  Burgundian  vanguard,  conceiving  that,  from 
the  dismantled  and  breached  state  of  the  walls,  they  had 
nothing  to  do  but  to  march  into  Liege  at  their  ease,  entered 
one  of  the  suburbs  with  the  shouts  of  *'  Burgundy — Bur- 


QUENTIN  DURWARD  413 

gnndy  !  Kill — kill  !  All  is  ours  !  Remember  Louis  of 
Bourbon  !''  But  as  they  marched  in  disorder  through  the 
narrow  streets,  and  were  partly  dispersed  for  the  purpose  of 
pillage,  a  large  body  of  the  inhabitants  issued  suddenly  from 
the  town,  fell  furiously  upon  them,  and  made  considerable 
slaughter.  De  la  Marck  even  availed  himself  of  the  breaches 
in  the  walls,  which  permitted  the  defenders  to  issue  out  at 
different  points,  and,  by  taking  separate  routes  into  the  con- 
tested suburb,  to  attack,  in  the  front,  flank,  and  rear,  at 
once,  the  assailants,  who,  stunned  by  the  furious,  unex- 
pected, and  multiplied  nature  of  the  resistance  offered,  could 
hardly  stand  to  their  arms.  The  evening,  which  began  to 
close,  added  to  their  confusion. 

When  this  news  was  brought  to  Duke  Charles,  he  was 
furious  with  rage,  which  was  not  much  appeased  by  the  offer 
of  King  Louis,  to  send  the  French  men-at-arms  into  the 
suburbs,  to  rescue  and  bring  off  the  Burgundian  vanguard. 
Rejecting  this  offer  briefly,  he  would  have  put  himself  at 
the  head  of  his  own  guards,  to  extricate  those  engaged  in  the 
incautious  advance ;  but  D'Hymbercourt  and  Orevecoeur 
entreated  him  to  leave  the  service  to  them,  and  marching 
into  the  scene  of  action  at  two  points,  with  more  order  and 
proper  arrangement  for  mutual  support,  these  two  celebrated 
captains  succeeded  in  repulsing  the  Liegeois  and  in  extri- 
cating the  vanguard,  who  lost,  besides  prisoners,  no  fewer 
than  eight  hundred  men,  of  whom  about  a  hundred  were 
men-at-arms.  The  prisoners,  however,  were  not  numerous, 
most  of  them  having  been  rescued  by  D'Hymbercourt,  who 
now  proceeded  to  occupy  the  contested  suburb,  and  to  place 
guards  opposite  to  the  town,  from  which  it  was  divided  by 
an  open  space  or  esplanade  of  five  or  six  hundred  yards,  left 
free  of  buildings  for  the  purposes  of  defence.  There  was  no 
moat  betwixt  the  suburb  and  town,  the  ground  being  rocky 
in  that  place.  A  gate  fronted  the  suburb,  from  which  sallies 
might  be  easily  made,  and  the  wall  was  pierced  by  two  or 
three  of  those  breaches  which  Duke  Charles  had  caused  to 
be  made  after  the  battle  of  Saint  Tron,  and  which  had  been 
hastily  repaired  with  mere  barricades  of  timber.  D^Hym- 
bercourt  turned  two  culverins  on  the  gate,  and  placed  two 
others  opposite  to  the  principal  breach,  to  repel  any  sally 
from  the  city,  and  then  returned  to  the  Burgundian  army, 
which  he  found  in  great  disorder. 

In  fact,  the  main  body  and  rear  of  the  numerous  army  of 
the  Duke  had  continued  to  advance  while  the  broken  and  re- 
pulsed vanguard  was  in  the  act  of  retreating ;  and  they  had 


414  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

come  into  collision  with  each  other,  to  the  great  confusion  of 
both.  The  necessary  absence  of  D^Hymberconrt,  who  dis- 
charged all  the  duties  of  marechal  clu  cmnp,  or,  as  we  should 
now  say,  of  quartermaster-general,  augmented  the  disorder ; 
and  to  complete  the  whole,  the  night  sunk  down  dark  as  a 
wolf's  mouth  :  there  fell  a  thick  and  heavy  rain,  and  the 
ground  on  which  the  beleaguering  army  must  needs  take  up 
their  position  was  muddy  and  intersected  with  many  canals. 
It  is  scarce  possible  to  form  an  idea  of  the  confusion  which 
prevailed  in  the  Burgundian  army,  where  leaders  were  sep- 
arated from  their  soldiers  and  soldiers  from  their  standards 
and  officers.  Every  one,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest, 
was  seeking  shelter  and  accommodation  where  he  could  in- 
dividually find  it ;  while  the  wearied  and  wounded,  who 
had  been  engaged  in  the  battle,  were  calling  in  vain  for 
shelter  and  refreshment,  and  while  those  who  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  disaster  were  pressing  on  to  have  their  share  in 
the  sack  of  the  place,  which  they  had  no  doubt  was  pro- 
ceeding merrily. 

When  D'Hymbercourt  returned  he  had  a  task  to  perform 
of  incredible  difficulty,  and  embittered  by  the  reproaches  of 
his  master,  who  made  no  allowance  for  the  still  more  neces- 
sary duty  in  which  he  had  been  engaged,  until  the  temper 
of  the  gallant  soldier  began  to  give  way  under  the  Duke's 
unreasonable  reproaches.  "  I  went  hence  to  restore  some 
order  in  the  van,"  he  said,  "and  left  the  main  body  under 
your  Grace's  own  guidance  ;  and  now,  on  my  return,  I  can 
neither  find  that  we  have  front,  flank,  nor  rear,  so  utter  is 
the  confusion/' 

*' We  are  the  more  like  a  barrel  of  herrings,"  answered  Le 
Glorieux,  '^  which  is  the  most  natural  resemblance  for  a 
Flemish  army." 

The  jester's  speech  made  the  Duke  laugh,  and  perhaps 
prevented  a  farther  prosecution  of  the  altercation  betwixt 
him  and  his  general. 

By  dint  of  great  exertion,  a  small  lusthmis,  or  country 
villa,  of  some  wealthy  citizen  of  Liege  was  secured  and 
cleared  of  other  occupants  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
Duke  and  his  immediate  attendants ;  and  the  authority  of 
D*Hymbercourt  and  Cr^vecoeur  at  length  established  a 
guard  in  the  vicinity,  of  about  forty  men-at-arms,  who 
lighted  a  very  large  fire,  made  with  the  timber  of  the  out- 
houses, whi(?h  they  pulled  down  for  the  purpose. 

A  little  to  the  left  of  this  villa,  and  betwixt  it  and  the 
]Buburb,  which,  as  we  have  said,  was  opposite  to  the  city 


qUENTIN  BVnWAEI)  415 

gate,  and  occupied  by  the  Burgundian  vanguard,  lay  another 
pleasure-house,  surrounded  by  a  garden  and  courtyard,  and 
having  two  or  three  small  inclosures  or  fields  in  the  rear  of 
it.  In  this  the  King  of  France  established  his  own  head- 
quarters. He  did  not  himself  pretend  to  be  a  soldier, 
further  than  a  natural  indifference  to  danger  and  much 
sagacity  qualified  him  to  be  called  such  ;  but  he  was  always 
careful  to  employ  the  most  skilful  in  that  profession,  and 
reposed  in  them  the  confidence  they  merited.  Louis  and  his 
immediate  attendants  occupied  this  second  villa  ;  a  part  ol 
his  Scottish  Guard  were  placed  in  the  court,  where  there 
were  outhouses  and  sheds  to  shelter  them  from  the  weather; 
the  rest  were  stationed  in  the  garden.  The  remainder  of  the 
French  men-at-arms  were  quartered  closely  together  and 
in  good  order,  with  alarm-posts  stationed,  in  case  of  their 
having  to  sustain  an  attack. 

Dunois  and  Crawford,  assisted  by  several  old  officers  and 
soldiers,  amongst  whom  Le  Balafre  w^as  conspicuous  for  his 
diligence,  contrived,  by  breaking  down  walls,  making  open- 
ings through  hedges,  filling  up  ditches,  and  the  like,  to 
facilitate  the  communication  of  the  troops  with  each  other, 
and  the  orderly  combination  of  the  whole  in  case  of 
necessity. 

Meanwhile,  the  King  judged  it  proper  to  go  without  farther 
ceremony  to  the  quarters  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  to  as- 
certain what  was  to  be  the  order  of  proceeding  and  what  co- 
operation was  expected  from  him.  His  presence  occasioned 
a  sort  of  council  of  war  to  be  held,  of  which  Charles  might 
not  otherwise  have  dreamed. 

It  was  then  that  Quentin  Durward  prayed  earnestly  to  be 
admitted,  as  having  something  of  importance  to  deliver  to 
the  two  princes.  This  was  obtained  without  much  difficulty, 
and  great  was  the  astonishment  of  Louis  when  he  heard  him 
calmly  and  distinctly  relate  the  purpose  of  William  de  la 
Marck  to  make  a  sally  upon  the  camp  of  the  besiegers  under 
the  dress  and  banners  of  the  French.  Louis  would  probably 
have  been  much  better  pleased  to  have  had  such  important 
news  communicated  in  private  ;  but  as  the  whole  story  had 
been  publicly  told  in  presence  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  he 
only  observed,  '^  that,  whether  true  or  false,  such  a  report 
concerned  them  most  materially.^' 

''  Not  a  whit — not  a  whit  ! "  said  the  Duke,  carelessly. 
"  Had  there  been  such  a  purpose  as  this  young  man  an- 
nounces, it  had  not  been  communicated  to  me  by  an  arohw 
of  the  Scottish  Guard/'        -   .-  -^  -      .  ...u.;.. 


416  WAVEELEY  NOVELS 

**  However  that  may  be/'  answered  Louis,  ''  I  pray  you, 
fair  cousin,  you  and  your  captains,  to  attend,  that  to  pre- 
vent the  unpleasing  consequences  of  such  an  attack,  should 
it  be  made  unexpectedly,  I  will  cause  my  soldiers  to  wear 
white  scarfs  over  their  armor.  Dunois,  see  it  given  out 
on  the  instant — that  is,"  he  added,  ^'if  our  brother  and 
general  approves  of  it." 

**  I  see  no  objection,"  replied  the  Duke,  **  if  the  chivalry 
of  France  are  willing  to  run  the  risk  of  having  the  name  of 
Knights  of  the  Smock-sleeve  bestowed  on  them  in  future." 

*'  It  would  be  a  right  well  adapted  title,  friend  Charles," 
said  Le  Glorieux,  ''  considering  that  a  woman  is  the  reward 
of  the  most  valiant." 

"  Well  spoken,  sagacity,"  said  Louis.  '*  Cousin,  good- 
night, I  will  go  arm  me.  By  the  way,  what  if  I  win  the 
countess  with  mine  own  hand  ?  " 

'*  Your  Majesty,"  said  the  Duke,  in  an  altered  tone  of 
voice,  '•  must  then  become  a  true  Fleming." 

*'  I  cannot, '^  answered  Louis,  in  a  tone  of  the  most  sincere 
confidence,  ''  be  more  so  than  I  am  already,  could  I  but  bring 
you,  my  dear  cousin,  to  believe  it." 

The  Duke  only  replied  by  wishing  the  King  good-night, 
in  a  tone  resembling  the  snort  of  a  shy  horse,  starting  from 
the  caress  of  the  rider  when  he  is  about  to  mount,  and  is 
soothing  him  to  stand  still. 

"  I  could  pardon  all  his  duplicity,"  «aid  the  Duke  to 
Cr^vecoeur,  *'  but  cannot  forgive  his  supposing  me  capable 
of  the  gross  folly  of  being  duped  by  his  professions." 

Louis,  too,  had  his  confidence  with  Oliver  le  Dain  when 
he  returned  to  his  own  quarters.  "  This  Scot,"  he  said, 
"  is  such  a  mixture  of  shrewdness  and  simplicity,  that  I 
know  not  what  to  make  of  him.  Pasques-Dieu !  think  of 
his  unpardonable  folly  in  bringing  out  honest  De  la  Marck's 
plan  of  a  sally  before  the  face  of  Burgundy,  Crevecoeur,  and 
all  of  them,  instead  of  rounding  it  in  my  ear,  and  giving  me 
at  least  the  choice  of  abetting  of  defeating  it ! " 

*'  It  is  better  as  it  is,  sir,"  said  Oliver  ;  ^*  there  are  many 
in  your  present  train  who  would  scruple  to  assail  Burgundy 
undefied,  or  to  ally  themselves  with  De  la  Marck." 

"Thou  art  right,  Oliver.  Such  fools  there  are  in  the 
world,  and  we  have  no  time  to  reconcile  their  scruples  by  a 
little  dose  of  self-interest.  We  must  be  true  men,  Oliver,  and 
good  allies  of  Burgundy,  for  this  night  at  least ;  time  may 

five  us  a  chance  of  abetter  game.    Go,  tell  no  man  to  unarm 
imself ;  and  let  them  shoot,  in  case  of  necessity^  as  sharply 


QUENTIN  DURWABD  417 

on  those  who  cry  'France'  and  'St.  Denis'  as  if  they 
cried  '  HelP  and  'Satan/  I  will  myself  sleep  in  my 
armor.  Let  Crawford  place  Quentin  Durward  on  the  extreme 
point  of  our  line  of  sentinels,  next  to  the  city.  Let  him  e'en 
have  the  first  benefit  of  the  sally  which  he  has  announced 
to  us  ;  if  his  luck  bear  him  out,  it  is  the  better  for  him. 
But  take  an  especial  care  of  Martius  Galeotti,  and  see  he 
remain  in  the  rear,  in  a  place  of  the  most  absolute  safety  ; 
he  is  even  but  too  venturous,  and,  like  a  fool,  would  be  both 
swordsman  and  philosopher.  See  to  these  things,  Oliver, 
and  good-night.  Our  Lady  of  Clery,  and  Monseigneur  St. 
Martin  of  Tours,  be  gracious  to  my  slumbers  !'*'* 

*  See  Attack  upon  Liege.    Note  49. 


CHAPTER  XXXVll 

THE   SALLY 

He  look'd,  and  saw  what  numbers  numberless 
The  city-gates  out-pour'd. 

Paradise  Regained, 

A  DEAD  silence  soon  reigned  over  that  great  host  which  lay 
in  leagaer  before  Liege.  For  a  long  time  the  cries  of  the 
soldiers  repeating  their  signals,  and  seeking  to  join  their 
several  banners,  sounded  like  the  howling  of  bewildered  dogs 
seeking  their  masters.  But  at  length,  overcome  with  weari- 
ness by  the  fatigues  of  the  day,  the  dispersed  soldiers  crowded 
under  such  shelter  as  they  could  meet  with,  and  those  who 
could  find  none  sunk  down  through  very  fatigue  under  walls, 
hedges,  and  such  temporary  protection,  there  to  wait  for 
morning — a  morning  which  some  of  them  were  never  to  be- 
hold. A  dead  sleep  fell  on  almost  all,  excepting  those  who 
kept  a  faint  and  weary  watch  by  the  lodgings  of  the  King 
and  the  Duke.  The  dangers  and  hopes  of  the  morrow — even 
the  schemes  of  glory  which  many  of  the  youug  nobility  had 
founded  upon  the  splendid  prize  held  out  to  him  who  should 
avenge  the  murdered  Bishop  of  Liege — glided  from  their  rec- 
ollection as  they  lay  stupified  with  fatigue  and  sleep.  But 
not  so  with  Quentm  Durward.  The  knowledge  that  he 
alone  was  possessed  of  the  means  of  distinguishing  La  Marck 
in  the  contest — the  recollection  by  whom  that  information 
had  been  communicated,  and  the  fair  augury  which  might 
be  drawn  from  her  conveying  it  to  him — the  thought  that 
his  fortune  had  brought  him  to  a  most  perilous  and  doubtful 
crisis  indeed,  but  one  where  there  was  still,  at  least,  a 
chance  of  his  coming  off  triumphant,  banished  every  desire  to 
sleep,  and  strung  his  nerves  with  vigor,  which  defied  fatigue. 
Posted,  by  the  King's  express  order,  on  the  extreme  point 
between  the  French  quarters  and  the  town,  a  good  way  to 
the  right  of  the  suburb  which  we  have  mentioned,  he  sharp- 
ened his  eye  to  penetrate  the  mass  which  lay  before  him, 
and  excited  his  ears  to  catch  the  slightest  sound  which  might 
announce  any  commotion  in  the  beleaguered  city.     But  its 


QUENTIN  DUBWARD  419 

huge  clocks  had  successively  knelled  three  hours  after  mid- 
night, and  all  continued  still  and  silent  as  the  grave. 

At  length,  and  just  when  Quentin  began  to  think  the 
attack  would  be  deferred  till  daybreak,  and  joyfully  recol- 
lected that  there  would  be  then  light  enough  to  descry  the 
bar  sinister  across  the  fleur-de-lys  of  Orleans,  he  thought  he 
heard  in  the  city  a  humming  murmur,  like  that  of  disturbed 
bees  mustering  for  the  defense  of  their  hives.  He  listened  ; 
the  noise  continued,  but  it  was  of  a  character  so  undistin- 
guished by  any  peculiar  or  precise  sound,  that  it  might  be 
the  murmur  of  a  wind  rising  among  the  boughs  of  a  distant 
grove,  or  perhaps  some  stream  swollen  by  the  late  rain, 
which  was  discharging  itself  into  sluggish  Maes  with  more 
than  usual  clamor.  Quentin  was  prevented  by  these  consid- 
erations from  instantly  giving  the  alarm,  which,  if  done 
carelessly,  would  have  been  a  heavy  offense. 

But  when  the  noise  rose  louder,  and  seemed  pouring  at  the 
same  time  towards  his  own  post,  and  towards  the  suburb,  he 
deemed  it  his  duty  to  fall  back  as  silently  as  possible,  and 
call  his  uncle,  who  commanded  the  small  body  of  archers 
destined  to  his  support.  All  were  on  their  feet  in  a  moment, 
and  with  as  little  noise  as  possible.  In  less  than  a  second. 
Lord  Crawford  was  at  their  head,  and,  despatching  an  archer 
to  alarm  the  King  and  his  household,  drew  back  his  little 
party  to  some  distance  behind  their  watch-fire,  that  they 
might  not  be  seen  by  its  light.  The  rushing  sound,  which 
had  approached  them  more  nearly,  seemed  suddenly  to  have 
ceased  ;  but  they  still  heard  distinctly  the  more  distant  heavy 
tread  o "  a  l';  rge  body  of  men  approaching  the  subu  rb. 

^'The  lazy  Burgundians  are  asleep  on  their  post,'' 
whispered  Crawford  ;  ^^  make  for  the  suburb,  Cunningham, 
and  awaken  the  stupid  oxen.'' 

*'  Keep  well  to  the  rear  as  you  go,"  said  Durward  ;  ''if 
ever  I  heard  the  tread  of  mortal  men,  there  is  a  strong  body 
interposed  between  us  and  the  suburb." 

*^  Well  said,  Quentin,  my  dainty  callant,"  said  Crawford  ; 
*'  thou  art  a  soldier  beyond  thy  years.  They  only  make  halt 
till  the  others  come  forward.  I  would  I  had  some  knowledge 
where  they  are  ! " 

*'I  will  creep  forward,  my  lord,"  said  Quentin,  ''and  en- 
deavor to  bring  you  information." 

"  Do  so,  my  bonny  child  ;  thou  hast  sharp  ears  and  eyes, 
and  goodwill ;  but  take  heed,  I  would  not  lose  thee  for  two 
and  a  plack." 

Quentin,  with  his  harquebuss  ready  prepared,  stole  for* 


120  WA  VERLEY  NO VELS 

ward,  through  ground  which  he  had  reconnoitred  carefully 
in  the  twilight  of  the  preceding  evening,  until  he  was  not 
only  certain  that  he  was  in  the  neighborhood  of  a  very  large 
body  cf  men,  who  were  standing  fast  betwixt  the  King's 
quarters  and  the  suburbs,  but  also  that  there  was  a  detached 
party  of  smaller  number  in  advance,  and  very  close  to  him. 
They  seemed  to  whisper  together,  as  if  uncertain  what  to  do 
next.  At  last,  the  steps  of  two  or  three  etifans  perdiis,  de- 
tached from  that  smaller  party,  approached  him  so  near  as 
twice  a  pike's  length.  Seeing  it  impossible  to  retreat  undis- 
covered, Quentin  called  out  aloud,  Qui  vivef"  and  was  an- 
swered by  "  Vive  Li — Li — ege — c'est  a  dire,"  added  he  who 
spoke,  correcting  himself,  "Vive  la  France/"  Quentin 
instantly  fired  his  harquebuss  ;  a  man  groaned  and  fell,  and 
he  himself,  under  the  instant  but  vague  discharge  of  a  num- 
ber of  pieces,  the  fire  of  which  ran  in  a  disorderly  manner 
alongst  the  column,  and  showed  it  to  be  very  numerous, 
hastened  back  to  the  main  guard. 

"  Admirably  done,  my  brave  boy  ! "  said  Crawford.  "  Now, 
callants,  draw  in  within  the  courtyard  ;  they  are  too  many 
to  mell  with  in  the  open  field.'' 

They  drew  within  the  courtyard  and  garden  accordingly, 
where  they  found  all  in  great  order,  and  the  King  prepared 
to  mount  his  horse. 

'*  Whither  away,  sire  ?  "  said  Crawford  ;  '^  you  are  safest 
here  with  your  own  people." 

"  Not  so,"  said  Louis  ;  ''  I  must  instantly  to  the  Duke. 
He  must  be  convinced  of  our  good  faith  at  this  critical 
moment,  or  we  shall  have  both  Liegeois  and  Burgundians 
upon  us  at  once."  And  springing  on  his  horse,  he  bade 
Dunois  command  the  French  troops  without  the  house,  and 
Crawford  the  Archer  Guard  and  other  household  troops  to 
defend  the  lusthaue  and  its  inclosures.  He  commanded 
them  to  bring  up  two  sakers  and  as  many  falconets  (pieces 
of  cannon  for  the  field),  which  had  been  left  about  half  a 
mile  in  the  rear  ;  and,  in  the  meantime,  to  make  good  their 
posts,  but  by  no  means  to  advance,  whatever  success  they 
might  obtain  ;  and  having  given  these  orders,  he  rode  off, 
with  a  small  escort,  to  the  Duke's  quarters. 

The  delay  which  permitted  these  arrangements  to  be  car- 
ried fully  into  effect  was  owing  to  Quentin's  having  fortu- 
nately shot  the  proprietor  of  the  house,  who  acted  as  guide 
to  the  column  which  was  designed  to  attack  it,  and  whose 
attack,  had  it  been  made  instantly,  might  have  had  a  chance 
of  being  successful. 


qUENTIN  DUB  WARD  421 

Durward,  who,  by  the  King's  order,  attended  him  to  the 
Duke's,  found  the  latter  in  a  state  of  choleric  distemperature, 
which  almost  prevented  his  discharging  the  duties  of  a 
general,  which  were  never  more  necessary  ;  for,  besides  the 
noise  of  a  close  and  furious  combat  which  had  now  taken 
place  in  the  suburb  upon  the  left  of  their  whole  army — be- 
sides the  attack  upon  the  King's  quarters,  which  was  fiercely 
maintained  in  the  center — a  third  column  of  Liegeois,  of 
even  superior  numbers,  had  filed  out  from  a  more  distant 
breach,  and,  marching  by  lanes,  vineyards,  and  passes 
known  to  themselves,  had  fallen  upon  the  right  flank  of  the 
Burgundian  army,  who,  alarmed  at  their  war-cries  of  "  Vive 
la  France!'*  and  *^  Denis  Montjoye!"  which  mingled  with 
those  of  ^'  Liege"  and  '^  Eouge  Sa7iglier/' and  at  the  idea 
thus  inspired,  of  treachery  on  the  part  of  the  French  con- 
federates, made  a  very  desultory  and  imperfect  resistance  ; 
while  the  Duke,  foaming,  and  swearing,  and  cursing  his 
liege  lord  and  all  that  belonged  to  him,  called  out  to  shoot 
with  bow  and  gun  on  all  that  was  French,  whether  black  or 
white — alluding  to  the  sleeves  with  which  Louis's  soldiers 
had  designated  themselves. 

The  arrival  of  the  King,  attended  only  by  Le  Balafre  and 
Quentin,  and  half  a  score  of  archers,  restored  confidence  be- 
tween France  and  Burgundy.  D'Hymbercourt,  Crevecoeur, 
and  others  of  the  Burgundian  leaders,  whose  names  were 
then  the  praise  and  dread  of  war,  rushed  devotedly  into  the 
.conflict ;  and,  while  some  commanders  hastened  to  bring  up 
more  distant  troops,  to  whom  the  panic  had  not  extended, 
others  threw  themselves  into  the  tumult,  reanimated  the  in^ 
stinct  of  discipline,  and  while  the  Duke  toiled  in  the  front, 
shouting,  hacking,  and  hewing,  like  an  ordinary  man-at- 
arms,  brought  their  men  by  degrees  into  array,  and  dismayed 
the  assailants,  by  the  use  of  their  artillery.  The  conduct  of 
Louis,  on  the  other  hand,  was  that  of  a  calm,  collected, 
sagacious  leader,  who  neither  sought  nor  avoided  danger, 
but  showed  so  much  self-possession  and  sagacity  that  the 
Burgundian  leaders  readily  obeyed  the  orders  which  he 
issued. 

The  scene  was  now  become  in  the  utmost  degree  animated 
and  horrible.  On  the  left  the  suburb,  after  a  fierce  contest, 
had  been  set  on  fire,  and  a  wide  and  dreadful  conflagration 
did  not  prevent  the  burning  ruins  from  being  still  disputed. 
On  the  center,  the  French  troops,  though  pressed  by  im- 
mense odds,  kept  up  so  close  and  constant  a  fire  that  the 
little  pleasure-house  shone  bright  with  the  glancing  flashes, 


422  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

as  if  surrounded  with  a  martyr's  crown  of  flames.  On  the 
left,  the  battle  swayed  backwards  and  forwards  with  varied 
success,  as  fresh  reinforcements  poured  out  of  the  town,  or 
were  brought  forward  from  the  rear  of  the  Burgundian 
host ;  and  the  strife  continued  with  unremitting  fury  for 
three  mortal  hours,  which  at  length  brought  the  dawn,  so 
much  desired  by  the  besiegers.  The  enemy,  at  this  period, 
seemed  to  be  slackening  their  efforts  upon  the  right  and  in 
the  center,  and  several  discharges  of  cannon  were  heard  from 
the  lustJiaus. 

^'  Go,"  said  the  King,  to  Le  Balafre  and  Quentin,  the  in- 
stant his  ear  had  caught  the  sound  ;  "  they  have  got  up  the 
sakers  and  falconets  ;  the  pleasure-house  is  safe,  blessed  be 
the  Holy  Virgin  !  Tell  Dunois  to  move  this  way,  but 
rather  nearer  the  walls  of  Liege,  with  all  our  men-at-arms, 
excepting  what  he  may  leave  for  the  defense  of  the  house, 
and  cut  in  between  those  thick-headed  Liegeois  on  the  right 
and  the  city,  from  which  they  are  supplied  with  recruits.'' 

The  uncle  and  nephew  galloped  off  to  Dunois  and  Craw- 
ford, who, tired  of  their  defensive  war,  joyfully  obeyed  the 
summons,  and  filing  out  at  the  head  of  a  gallant  body  of 
about  two  hundred  French  gentlemen,  besides  squires,  and 
the  greater  part  of  the  archers  and  their  followers,  marched 
across  the  field,  trampling  down  the  wounded,  till  they 
gained  the  flank  of  the  large  body  of  Liegeois,  by  whom  the 
right  of  the  Burgundians  had  been  so  fiercely  assailed.  The 
increasing  daylight  discovered  that  the  enemy  were  con-^ 
tinning  to  pour  out  from  the  city,  either  for  the  purpose  of* 
continuing  the  battle  on  that  point,  or  of  bringing  safely 
off  the  forces  who  were  already  engaged. 

*' By  Heaven!"  said  old  Crawford  to  Dunois,  '''were  I 
not  certain  it  is  thou  that  art  riding  in  my  side,  I  would 
say  I  saw  thee  among  yonder  banditti  and  burghers,  mar- 
shalling and  arraying  them  with  thy  mace — only,  if  you  be 
thou,  thou  art  bigger  than  thou  art  wont  to  be.  Art  thou 
sure  yonder  armed  leader  is  not  thy  wraith,  thy  double-man, 
as  these  Flemings  call  it  ?  " 

'*  My  wraith  ! "  said  Dunois  ;  "  I  know  not  what  you 
mean.  But  yonder  is  a  caitiff  with  my  bearings  displayed 
on  crest  and  shield,  whom  I  will  presently  punish  for  his  in- 
solence." 

'^  In  the  name  of  all  that  is  noble,  my  lord,  leave  the 
vengeance  to  me  ! "  said  Quentin. 

"  To  thee  indeed,  young  man  !  "  said  Dunois  ;  '*  that  is  a 
modest  request.     No — these  things  brook  no  substitution. '* 


QUENTIN  DUB  WARD  423 

Then  turning  on  his  saddle,  he  called  out  to  those  around 
him,  "  Gentlemen  of  France,  form  your  line,  level  your 
lances  !  Let  the  rising  sunbeams  shine  through  the  bat- 
talions of  yonder  swine  of  Liege  and  hogs  of  Ardennes,  that 
masquerade  in  our  ancient  coats/' 

The  men-at-arms  answered  with  a  loud  shout  of  "  A 
Dunois — a  Dunois  !  Long  live  the  bold  Bastard  !  Orleans 
to  the  rescue  ! "  And,  with  their  leader  in  the  center,  they 
charged  at  full  gallop.  They  encountered  no  timid  enemy. 
The  large  body  which  they  charged  consisted,  excepting 
some  mounted  officers,  entirely  of  infantry,  who,  setting  the 
butt  of  their  lances  against  their  feet,  the  front  rank  kneel- 
ing, the  second  stooping,  and  those  behind  presenting  their 
spears  over  their  heads,  offered  such  resistance  to  the  rapid 
charge  of  the  men-at  arms  as  the  hedgehog  presents  to  his 
enemy.  Few  were  able  to  make  way  through  that  iron 
wall  ;  but  of  those  few  was  Dunois,  who,  giving  spur  to  his 
horse,  and  making  the  noble  animal  leap  more  than  twelve 
feet  at  a  bound,  fairly  broke  his  way  into  the  middle  of  the 
phalanx,  and  made  towards  the  object  of  his  animosity. 
What  was  his  surprise  to  find  Quentin  still  by  his  side,  and 
fighting  in  the  same  front  with  himself — ^^youth,  desperate 
courage,  and  the  determination  to  do  or  die  having  still  kept 
the  youth  abreast  with  the  best  knight  in  Europe,  for  such 
was  Dunois  reported,  and  truly  reported,  at  the  period. 

Their  spears  were  soon  broken  ;  but  the  lanzknechts  were 
unable  to  withstand  the  blows  of  their  long  heavy  swords  ; 
while  the  horses  and  riders,  armed  in  complete  steel,  sus- 
tained little  injury  from  their  lances.  Still  Dunois  and 
Durward  were  contending  with  rival  efforts  to  burst  forward 
to  the  spot  where  he  who  had  usurped  the  armorial  bearings 
of  Dunois  was  doing  the  duty  of  a  good  and  valiant  leader, 
when  Dunois,  observing  the  boar's  head  and  tusks,  the  usual 
bearing  of  William  de  la  Marck,  in  another  part  of  the  con- 
flict, called  out  to  Quentin,  "  Thou  art  worthy  to  avenge 
the  arms  of  Orleans  !  I  leave  thee  the  task.  Balafre,  sup- 
port your  nephew ;  but  let  none  dare  to  interfere  with 
bunois's  boar-hunt. '' 

That  Quentin  Durward  joyfully  acquiesced  in  this  divi- 
sion of  labor  cannot  be  doubted,  and  each  pressed  forward 
upon  his  separate  object,  followed,  and  defended  from  be- 
hind, by  such  men-at  arms  as  were  able  to  keep  up  with 
them. 

But  at  this  moment  the  column  which  De  la  Marck  had 
proposed  to  support,  when  his  own  course  was  arrested  by 


424  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  charge  of  Dunois,  had  lost  all  the  advantages  they  had 
gained  during  the  night ;  while  the  Burgundians,  with  re- 
turning day,  had  begun  to  show  the  qualities  which  belong 
to  superior  discipline.  The  great  mass  of  Liegeois  were 
compelled  to  retreat,  and  at  length  to  fly  ;  and,  falling  back 
on  those  who  were  engaged  with  the  French  men-at-arms, 
the  whole  became  a  confused  tide  of  fighters,  fliers,  and  pur- 
suers, which  rolled  itself  towards  the  city  walls,  and  at  last 
was  poured  into  the  ample  and  undefended  breach  through 
which  the  Liegeois  had  sailed. 

Quentin  made  more  than  human  exertions  to  overtake  the 
special  object  of  his  pursuit,  who  was  still  in  his  sight, 
striving,  by  voice  and  example,  to  renew  the  battle,  and 
bravely  supported  by  a  chosen  party  of  lanzknechts.  Le 
Balafre  and  several  of  his  comrades  attached  themselves  to 
Quentin,  much  marveling  at  the  extraordinary  gallantry 
displayed  by  so  young  a  soldier.  On  the  very  brink  of  the 
breach  De  la  Marck — for  it  was  himself — succeeded  in  effect- 
ing a  momentary  stand,  and  repelling  some  of  the  most  for- 
ward of  the  pursuers.  He  had  a  mace  of  iron  in  his  hand, 
before  which  everything  seemed  to  go  down,  and  was  so 
much  covered  with  blood  that  it  was  almost  impossible 
to  discern  those  bearings  on  his  shield  which  had  so  much 
incensed  Dunois. 

Quentin  now  found  little  difficulty  in  singling  him  out ; 
for  the  commanding  situation  of  which  he  had  possessed 
himself,  and  the  use  he  made  of  his  terrible  mace,  caused 
many  of  the  assailants  to  seek  safer  points  of  attack  than 
that  where  so  desperate  a  defender  presented  himself.  But 
Quentin,  to  whom  the  importance  attached  to  victory  over 
this  formidable  antagonist  was  better  known,  sprung  from 
his  horse  at  the  bottom  of  the  breach,  and  letting  the  noble 
animal,  the  gift  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  run  loose  through 
the  tumult,  ascended  the  ruins  to  measure  swords  with  the 
Boar  of  Ardennes.  The  latter,  as  if  he  had  seen  his  inten- 
tion, turned  towards  Durward  with  mace  uplifted  ;  and 
they  were  on  the  point  of  encounter  when  a  dreadful  shout 
of  triumph,  of  tumult,  and  of  despair  announced  that  the 
besiegers  were  entering  the  city  at  another  point,  and  in  the 
rear  of  those  who  defended  the  breach.  Assembling  around 
him,  by  voice  and  bugle,  the  desperate  partners  of  his  des- 
perate fortune,  De  la  Marck,  at  those  appalling  sounds, 
abandoned  the  breach,  and  endeavored  to  effect  his  retreat 
towards  a  part  of  the  city  from  which  he  might  escape  to 
the  other  side  of  the  Maes.     His  immediate  followers  formed 


QUBNTIN  DURWAttD  42S 

a  deep  body  of  well-disciplined  men,  who,  never  having 
given  quarter,  were  resolved  now  not  to  ask  it,  and,  who,  in 
that  hour  of  despair,  threw  themselves  into  such  firm  order 
that  their  front  occupied  the  whole  breadth  of  the  street 
through  which  they  slowly  retired,  making  head  from  time 
to  time,  and  checking  the  pursuers,  many  of  whom  began 
to  seek  a  safer  occupation  by  breaking  into  the  houses  for 
plunder.  It  is  therefore  probable  that  De  la  Marck  might 
have  effected  his  escape,  his  disguise  concealing  him  from 
those  who  promised  themselves  to  win  l^onor  and  grandeur 
upon  his  head,  but  for  the  stanch  pursuit  of  Quentin,  his 
uncle  Le  Balafre,  and  some  of  his  comrades.  At  every  pause 
which  was  made  by  the  lanzknechts  a  furious  combat  took 
place  betwixt  them  and  the  archers,  and  in  every  melee 
Quentin  sought  De  la  Marck  ;  but  the  latter,  whose  present 
object  was  to  retreat,  seemed  to  evade  the  young  Scot's  pur- 
pose of  bringing  him  to  single  combat.  The  confusion  was 
general  in  every  direction.  The  shrieks  and  cries  of  women, 
the  yelling  of  the  terrified  inhabitants,  now  subjected  to  the 
extremity  of  military  license,  sounded  horribly  shrill  amid 
the  shouts  of  battle,  like  the  voice  of  misery  and  despair 
contending  with  that  of  fury  and  violence,  which  should  be 
heard  farthest  and  loudest. 

It  was  just  when  De  la  Marck,  retiring  through  this  in- 
fernal scene,  had  passed  the  door  of  a  small  chapel  of  pecul- 
iar sanctity,  that  the  shouts  of  '^France — France!  Bur- 
gundy— Burgundy  ! "  apprised  him  that  a  part  of  the  be- 
siegers were  entering  the  farther  end  of  the  street,  which 
was  a  narrow  one,  and  that  his  retreat  was  cut  off.  '*  Com- 
rade," he  said,  '*  take  all  the  men  with  you.  Charge  yon- 
der fellows  roundly,  and  break  through  if  you  can  ;  with  me 
it  is  over.  I  am  man  enough,  now  that  I  am  brought  to 
bay,  to  send  some  of  these  vagabond  Scots  to  hell  before 
me." 

His  lieutenant  obeyed,  and,  with  most  of  the  few  lanz- 
knechts who  remained  alive,  hurried  to  the  farther  end  of 
the  street,  for  the  purpose  of  charging  those  Burgundians 
who  were  advancing,  and  so  forcing  their  way  so  as  to  es- 
cape. About  six  of  De  la  Marck's  best  men  remained  to 
perish  with  their  master,  and  fronted  the  archers,  who  were 
not  many  more  in  number.  *'  Sanglier  !  Sanglier  !  Hola  ! 
gentlemen  of  Scotland,"  said  the  ruffian  but  undaunted 
chief,  waving  his  mace,  "  who  longs  to  gain  a  coronet — who 
strikes  at  the  Boar  of  Ardennes  ?  You,  young  man,  have, 
methinks,  a  hankering ;  but  you  must  win  ere  you  wear  it." 


426  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Quentin  heard  but  imperfectly  the  words,  which  were 
artly  lost  in  the  hollow  helmet  ;  but  the  action  could  not 
e  mistaken,  and  he  had  but  time  to  bid  his  uncle  and  com- 
rades, as  they  were  gentlemen,  to  stand  back,  when  De  la 
Marck  sprung  upon  him  with  a  bound  like  a  tiger,  aiming 
at  the  same  time  a  blow  with  his  mace,  so  as  to  make  his 
hand  and  foot  keep  time  together,  and  giving  his  stroke  full 
advantage  of  the  descent  of  his  leap  ;  but,  light  of  foot  and 
quick  of  eye,  Quentin  leaped  aside,  and  disappointed  an  aim 
which  would  have  been  fatal  had  it  taken  effect. 

They  then  closed,  like  the  wolf  and  the  wolf-dog,  their 
comrades  on  either  side  remaining  inactive  spectators,  for 
Le  Balafre  roared  out  for  fair  play,  adding,  *^  that  he  would 
venture  his  nephew  on  him,  were  he  as  wight  as  Wallace." 

Neither  was  the  experienced  soldier's  confidence  unjus- 
tified ;  for,  although  the  blows  of  the  despairing  robber  fell 
like  those  of  the  hammer  on  the  anvil,  yet  the  quick  motions 
and  dexterous  swordsmanship  of  the  young  archer  enabled 
him  to  escape,  and  to  requite  them  with  the  point  of  his  less 
noisy  though  more  fatal  weapon  ;  and  that  so  often  and  so 
effectually,  that  the  huge  strength  of  his  antagonist  began 
to  give  way  to  fatigue,  while  the  ground  on  which  he  stood 
became  a  puddle  of  blood.  Yet,  still  unabated  in  courage 
and  ire,  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes  fought  on  with  as  much 
mental  energy  as  at  first,  and  Quentin's  victory  seemed  du- 
bious and  distant,  when  a  female  voice  behind  him  called  him 
by  his  name,  ejaculating,  "  Help — help  !  for  the  sake  of  the 
blessed  Virgin  \" 

He  turned  his  head,  and  with  a  single  glance  beheld  Ger- 
trude Pavilion,  her  mantle  stripped  from  her  shoulders, 
dragged  forcibly  along  by  a  French  soldier,  one  of  several, 
who,  breaking  into  the  chapel  close  by,  had  seized,  as  their 
prey,  on  the  terrified  females  who  had  taken  refuge  there. 

*^Waitforme  but  one  moment, ''  exclaimed  Quentin  to 
De  la  Marck,  and  sprung  to  extricate  his  benefactress  from 
a  situation  of  which  he  conjectured  all  the  dangers. 

"  I  wait  no  man's  pleasure,"  said  De  la  Marck,  flourishing 
his  mace,  and  beginning  to  retreat,  glad,  no  doubt,  of  being 
free  of  so  formidable  an  assailant. 

"  You  shall  wait  mine,  though  by  your  leave,"  said  Bala- 
fre ;  ^'  I  will  not  have  my  nephew  baulked."  So  saying,  he 
instantly  assaulted  De  la  Marck  with  his  two-handed  sword. 

Quentin  found,  in  the  meanwhile,  that  the  rescue  of 
Gertrude  was  a  task  more  difficult  than  could  be  finished  in 
one  moment.     Her  captor,  supported  by  his  comrades,  re- 


qUENTIN  DUB  WARD  421 

fused  to  relinquish  his  prize  ;  and  whilst  Durward,  aided  by 
one  or  two  of  his  countrymen,  endeavored  to  compel  him  to 
do  so,  the  former  beheld  the  chance  which  Fortune  had  so 
kindly  afforded  him  for  fortune  and  happiness  glide  out  of 
his  reach  ;  so  that,  when  he  stood  at  length  in  the  street 
with  the  liberated  Gertrude,  there  was  no  one  near  them. 
Totally  forgetting  the  defenseless  situation  of  his  compan- 
ion, he  was  about  to  spring  away  in  pursuit  of  the  Boar  of 
Ardennes,  as  the  greyhound  tracks  the  deer,  when,  clinging 
to  him  in  her  despair,  she  exclaimed,  "  For  the  sake  of  your 
mother's  honor,  leave  me  not  here  !  As  you  are  a  gentle- 
man, protect  me  to  my  father's  house,  which  once  shel- 
tered you  and  the  Lady  Isabelle !  For  her  sake  leave  me 
not  I " 

Her  call  was  agonizing,  but  it  was  irresistible ;  and  bid- 
ding a  mental  adieu,  with  unutterable  bitterness  of  feeling 
to  all  the  gay  hopes  which  had  stimulated  his  exertion,  car- 
ried him  through  that  bloody  day,  and  which  at  one  moment 
seemed  to  approach  consummation,  Quentin,  like  an  unwill- 
ing spirit  who  obeys  a  talisman  which  he  cannot  resist,  pro- 
tected Gertrude  to  Pavilion's  house,  and  arrived  in  time  to 
defend  that  and  the  syndic  himself  against  the  fury  of  the 
licentious  soldiery. 

Meantime,  the  King  and  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  entered 
the  city  on  horseback,  and  through  one  of  the  breaches. 
They  were  both  in  complete  armor,  but  the  latter,  covered 
with  blood  from  the  plume  to  the  spur,  drove  his  steed  fu- 
riously up  the  breach,  which  Louis  surmounted  with  the 
stately  pace  of  one  who  leads  a  procession.  They  despatched 
orders  to  stop  the  sack  of  the  city,  which  had  already  com- 
menced, and  to  assemble  their  scattered  troops.  The  princes 
themselves  proceeded  towards  the  great  church,  both  for  the 
protection  of  many  of  the  distinguished  inhabitants,  who 
had  taken  refuge  there,  and  in  order  to  hold  a  sort  of  mil- 
itary council  after  they  had  heard  high  mass. 

Busied  like  other  officers  of  his  rank  in  collecting  those 
under  his  command.  Lord  Crawford,  at  the  turning  of  one 
of  streets  which  leads  to  the  Maes,  met  LeBalafre  sauntering 
composedly  towards  the  river,  holding  in  his  hand,  by  the 
gory  locks,  a  human  head,  with  as  much  indifference  as  a 
fowler  carries  a  game-pouch. 

^'  How  now,  Ludovic  ! "  said  his  commander  ;  *'  what  are 
ye  doing  with  that  carrion  ?" 

'^  It  is  all  is  left  of  a  bit  of  work  which  my  nephew  shaped 
out,  and  nearly  finished,  and  I  put  the  last  hand  to/ 


428  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Le  Balafre — '*a  good  fellow  that  I  despatched  yonder,  and 
who  prayed  me  to  throw  his  head  into  the  Maes.  Men  have 
queer  fancies  when  old  Small  Back  *  is  gripping  them  ;  but 
Small  Back  must  lead  down  the  dance  with  us  all  in  our 
time." 

"  And  you  are  going  to  throw  that  head  into  the  Maes  ?" 
said  Crawford,  looking  more  attentively  on  the  ghastly  me- 
morial of  mortality. 

"  Ay,  truly  am  1,"  said  Ludovic  Lesly.  "  If  you  refuse  a 
dying  man  his  boon,  you  are  likely  to  be  haunted  by  his  ghost, 
and  I  love  to  sleep  sound  at  nights." 

'*  You  must  take  your  chance  of  the  ghaist,  man,"  said 
Crawford ;  "for,  by  my  soul,  there  is  more  lies  on  that  dead 
pow  than  you  think  for.  Come  along  with  me — not  a  word 
more — come  along  with  me." 

'*  Nay,  for  that  matter,"  said  Le  Balafre,  "  I  made  him  no 
promise  ;  for,  in  truth,  I  had  off  his  head  before  the  tongue 
had  well  done  wagging  ;  and  as  I  feared  him  not  living,  by 
St.  Martin  of  Tours,  I  fear  him  as  little  when  he  is  dead. 
Besides,  my  little  gossip,  the  merry  friar  of  St.  Martin's 
will  lend  me  a  pot  of  holy  water." 

When  high  mass  had  been  said  in  the  cathedral  church 
of  Liege,  and  the  terrified  town  was  restored  to  some  moderate 
degree  of  order,  Louis  and  Charles,  with  their  peers  around, 
proceeded  to  hear  the  claims  of  those  who  had  any  to  make 
for  services  performed  during  the  battle.  Those  which  re- 
spected the  country  of  Croye  and  its  fair  mistress  were  first 
received,  and, to  the  disappointment  of  sundry  claimants  who 
had  thought  themselves  sure  of  the  rich  prize,  there  seemed 
doubt  and  mystery  to  involve  their  several  pretensions. 
Crevecoeur  showed  a  boar's  hide  such  as  De  la  Marck  usually 
wore ;  Dunois  produced  a  cloven  shield,  with  his  armorial 
bearings  ;  and  there  were  others  who  claimed  the  merit  of 
having  despatched  the  murderer  of  the  bishop,  producing 
similar  tokens — the  rich  reward  fixed  on  De  la  Marck's  head 
having  brought  death  to  all  who  were  armed  in  his  resem- 
blance. 

There  was  much  noise  and  contest  among  the  competitors, 
and  Charles,  internally  regretting  the  rash  promise  which 
had  placed  the  hand  and  wealth  of  his  fair  vassal  on  such  a 
hazard,  was  in  hopes  he  might  find  means  of  evading  ail 
these  conflicting  claims,  when  Crawford  pressed  forward  in- 
to the  circle,  dragging  Le  Balafr6  after  him,  who,  awkward 

*  A  cant  expression  in  Scotland  for  death,  usually  delineated  as  a 
BjfipJ^tpn. 


qUENTIN  DURWABD  429 

and  bashful,  followed  like  an  unwilling  mastiff  towed  on  in 
a  leash,  as  his  leader  exclaimed, — '*  Away  with  your  hoofs 
and  hides,  and  painted  iron  !  No  one,  save  he  wno  slew  the 
Boar,  can  show  the  tusks  ! " 

So  saying,  he  flung  on  the  floor  the  bloody  head,  easily 
known  as  that  of  De  la  Marck  by  the  singular  conformation 
of  the  jaws,  which  in  reality  had  a  certain  resemblance  to 
those  of  the  animal  whose  name  he  bore,  and  which  was  in- 
stantly recognized  by  all  who  had  seen  him.* 

''  Crawford,"  said  Louis,  while  Charles  sat  silent,  in 
gloomy  and  displeased  surprise,  '*I  trust  it  is  one  of  my 
faithful  Scots  who  has  won  this  prize  ?  " 

*'  It  is  Ludovic  Lesly,  sire,  whom  we  call  Le  Balafr6,^'  re- 
plied the  old  soldier. 

"  But  is  he  noble/'  said  the  Duke — "  is  he  of  gentle  blood  ? 
Otherwise  our  promise  is  void.'' 

^'  He  is  a  cross  ungainly  piece  of  wood  enough,"  said 
Crawford,  looking  at  the  tall,  awkward,  embarrassed  figure 
of  the  archer  ;  "  but  I  will  warrant  him  a  branch  of  the  tree 
of  Kothes  for  all  that,  and  they  have  been  as  noble  as  any 
house  in  France  or  Burgundy,  ever  since  it  is  told  of  their 
founder  that. 

Between  the  less-lee  \  and  the  mair 
He  slew  the  knight,  and  left  him  there. 

"There  is  then  no  help  for  it,"  said  the  Duke,  "and  the 
fairest  and  richest  heiress  in  Burgundy  must  be  the  wife  of  a 
rude  mercenary  soldier  like  this,  or  die  secluded  in  a  convent 
• — and  she  the  only  child  of  our  faithful  Reginald  (Reinold) 
de  Croye  !     I  have  been  too  rash." 

And  a  cloud  settled  on  his  brow,  to  the  surprise  of  his 
peers,  who  seldom  saw  him  evince  the  slightest  token  of  re- 
gret for  the  necessary  consequences  of  an  adopted  resolution. 

"Hold  but  an  instant,"  said  the  Lord  Crawford,  "it  may 
be  better  than  your  Grace  conjectures.  Hear  but  what  this 
cavalier  has  to  say.  Speak  out,  man,  and  a  murrain  to  thee," 
he  added,  apart  to  Le  Balafre. 

But  that  blunt  soldier,  though  he  could  make  a  shift  to 
express  himself  intelligibly  enough  to  King  Louis,  to  whose 
familiarity  he  was  habituated,  yet  found  himself  incapable 
of  enunciating  his  resolution  before  so  splendid  an  assembljf 

*  See  Anachronisms.    Note  50. 
f  See  Descent  of  the  Leslies.    Note  61. 


430  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

as  that  in  presence  of  which  he  then  stood ;  and  after  having 
turned  his  shoulders  to  the  princes,  and  preluded  with  a 
hoarse  chuckling  laugh,  and  two  or  three  tremendous  con- 
tortions of  countenance,  he  was  only  able  to  pronounce  the 
words,  "  Saunders  Souplejaw" — and  then  stuck  fast. 

"  May  it  please  your  Majesty  and  your  Grace,^'  said  Craw- 
ford, ^'  I  must  speak  for  my  countryman  and  old  comrade. 
You  shall  understand  that  he  has  had  it  prophesied  to  him 
by  a  seer  in  his  own  land,  that  the  fortune  of  his  house  is  to 
be  made  by  marriage  ;  but  as  he  is,  like  myself,  something 
the  worse  for  the  wear, — loves  the  wine-house  better  than  a 
lady^s  summer-parlor,  and,  in  short,  having  some  barrack 
tastes  and  likings  which  would  make  greatness  in  his  own 
person  rather  an  encumbrance  to  him,  he  hath  acted  by  my 
advice,  and  resigns  the  pretensions  acquired  by  the  fate  of 
slaying  William  de  la  Marck  to  him  by  whom  the  Wild  Boar 
was  actually  brought  to  bay,  who  is  his  maternal  nephew.'' 

'^I  will  vouch  for  that  youth's  services  and  prudence/' 
said  King  Louis,  overjoyed  to  see  that  fate  had  thrown  so 
gallant  a  prize  to  one  over  whom  he  had  some  influence. 
^'  Without  his  prudence  and  vigilance  we  had  been  ruined. 
It  was  he  who  made  us  aware  of  the  night-sally." 

'^l  then,"  said  Charles,  "owe  him  some  reparation  for 
doubting  his  veracity." 

"  And  I  can  attest  his  gallantry  as  a  man-at-arms,"  said 
Dunois. 

*'But,"  interrupted  Crevecceur,  "though  the  uncle  be  a 
Scottish  gentilldtre,  that  makes  not  the  nephew  necessarily 
so." 

"He  is  of  the  house  of  Durward,"  said  Crawford,  "de- 
scended from  that  Allan  Durward  who  was  High  Steward  of 
Scotland." 

"Nay,  if  it  be  young  Durward,"  said  Crevecceur,  "I  say 
no  more.  Fortune  has  declared  herself  on  his  side  too  plainly 
for  me  to  struggle  farther  with  her  humorsome  ladyship ; 
but  it  is  strange,  from  lord  to  horseboy,  how  wonderfully 
these  Scots  stick  by  each  other." 

"  Highlanders,  shoulder  to  shoulder ! "  answered  Lord 
Crawford,  laughing  at  the  mortification  of  the  proud  Bur- 
gundian. 

''  We  have  yet  to  inquire,"  said  Charles,  thoughtfully, 
"  what  the  fair  lady's  sentiments  may  be  towards  this  fortu- 
nate adventurer." 

"  By  the  mass  !"  said  Crevecceur,  "I  have  but  too  much 
reason  to  believe  your  Grace  will  find  her  more  amenable  to 


qUENTIN  DURWAED  431 

authority  than  on  former  occasions.  But  why  should  I 
grudge  this  youth  his  preferment,  since,  after  all,  it  is  sense, 
firmness,  and  gallantry  which  have  put  him  in  possession  of 
Wealth,  Rank,  and  Beauty  ?  " 


I  HAD  already  sent  these  sheets  to  the  press,  concluding, 
as  I  thought,  with  a  moral  of  excellent  tendency  for  the  en- 
couragement of  all  fair-hail  ed,  blue-eyed,  long-legged,  stout- 
hearted emigrants  from  my  native  country  who  might  be 
willin-g  in  stirring  times  to  take  up  the  gallant  profession  of 
cavalieros  of  fortune.  But  a  friendly  monitor,  one  of  those 
who  like  the  lump  of  sugar  which  is  found  at  the  bottom  of 
a  tea-cup  as  well  as  the  flavor  of  the  souchong  itself,  has 
entered  a  bitter  remonstrance,  and  insists  that  1  should  give 
a  precise  and  particular  account  of  the  espousals  of  the 
young  heir  of  Glenhoulakin  and  the  lovely  Flemish  countess, 
and  tell  what  tournaments  were  held,  and  how  many  lances 
were  broken,  upon  so  interesting  an  occasion  ;  nor  withhold 
from  the  curious  reader  the  number  of  sturdy  boys  who  in- 
herited the  valor  of  Quentin  Durward,  and  of  bright  damsels 
in  whom  were  renewed  the  charms  of  Isabelle  de  Croye.  I 
replied  in  course  of  post,  that  times  were  changed,  and  public 
weddings  were  entirely  out  of  fashion.  In  days,  traces  of 
which  1  myself  can  remember,  not  only  were  the  '^  fifteen 
friends '^  of  the  happy  pair  invited  to  witness  their  union, 
but  the  bridal  minstrelsy  still  continued,  as  in  the  A^icienf 
Mariner,  to  *'nod  their  heads"  till  morning  shone  on  them. 
The  sack-posset  was  eaten  in  the  nuptial  chamber,  the  stock- 
ing was  thrown,  and  the  bride's  garter  was  struggled  for  in 
presence  of  the  happy  couple  whom  Hymen  had  made  one 
flesh.  The  authors  of  the  period  were  laudably  accurate  in 
following  its  fashions.  They  spared  you  not  a  blush  of  the 
bride,  not  a  rapturous  glance  of  the  bridegroom,  not  a 
diamond  in  her  hair,  not  a  button  on  his  embroidered  waist- 
coat ;  until  at  length,  with  Astraea,  "  they  fairly  put  their 
characters  to  bed."  But  how  little  does  this  agree  with  the 
modest  privacy  which  induces  our  modern  brides — sweet 
bashful  darlings  ! — to  steal  from  pomp  and  plate,  and  ad- 
miration and  flattery,  and,  like  honest  Shenstone, 

Seek  for  freedom  at  an  inn  I 

To  these,  unquestionably,  an  exposure   of  the  circum- 


432  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

stances  of  publicity  with  which  a  bridal  in  the  15th  cent^iry 
was  always  celebrated  must  appear  in  the  highest  degree 
disgusting.  Isabelle  de  Croye  would  be  ranked  in  their  esti- 
mation far  below  the  maid  who  milks  and  does  the  meanest 
chores ;  for  even  she,  were  it  in  the  church-porch,  would 
reject  the  hand  of  her  journeyman  shoemaker  should  he 
propose  "faire  des  7ioces/'  as  it  is  called  on  Parisian  signs, 
instead  of  going  down  on  the  top  of  the  long  coach  to  spend 
the  honeymoon  incognito  at  Deptford  or  Greenwich.  I  will 
not,  therefore,  tell  more  of  this  matter,  but  will  steal  away 
from  the  wedding  as  Ariosto  from  that  of  Angelica,  leaving 
it  to  whom  it  may  please  to  add  farther  particulars,  after  the 
fashion  of  their  own  imagination. 

Some  better  bard  shall  sing,  in  feudal  state 
How  Braquemont's  Castle  op'd  its  Gothic  gate, 
When  on  the  wand'ring  Scot  its  lovely  heir 
Bestow'd  her  beauty  and  an  earldom  fair.* 

*  E  come  a  ritornare  in  sua  contrada 
Trovasse  e  buon  naviglio  e  miglior  tempo, 
E  deir  India  a  Medor  desse  lo  scettro 
Forse  altri  cantera  con  miglior  plettro. 

Orlando  Furioso,  Canto  xxx.,  Stanza  16 


NOTES  TO  QUENTIN  DURWAED 


NoTK  1.— Prick  on  the  Picturesque,  p.  xxvi 

See  Price's  Essay  on  the  Picturesque,  in  many  passages ;  but  I  would  partic- 
ularize the  beautiful  and  highly  poetical  account  which  he  gives  of  his  own 
feelings  on  destroying,  at  the  dictate  of  an  improver,  an  ancient  sequestrated 
garden,  with  its  yew  hedges,  ornamented  iron  gates,  and  secluded  wilderness. 

Note  2.— Hughes's  ITINERARY,  xxxiii 

This  Journal,  or  Itinerary,  with  etchings  by  the  author,  was  published  at 
London,  1832,  8vo,  and  was  followed  by  a  volume  in  folio  [4to],  entitled  Views  in 
the  South  of  France,  chiefly  on  the  Rhone,  engraved  by  W.  B.  Cooke,  etc.,  from 
drawings  by  P.  De  Wint,  after  original  sketches  by  John  Hughes,  Lond.  1825. 

Mr.  Lockhart,  in  his  Life  of  Scott,  has,  by  some  oversight,  connected  the  late 
Mr.  Skene's  name  with  Quentin  Durward  mstead  of  with  Anne  of  Geierstein. 
There  is  good  authority  for  correcting  this  (Laing). 

Note  3.— Edition  of  CENT  NOUVELLES,  p.  4 

This  editio  princeps,  which,  when  in  good  preservation.  Is  much  sought  after 
by  connoisseurs,  is  entitled,  Les  Cent  NouveUes  Nouvelles,  contenant  Cent  His- 
toires  Nouveaux,  qui  sont  moult  plaisans  d  raconter  en  toutes  bonnes  compagnies 
par  maniere  de  joyeuxete.  Paris,  Antoine  Verard.  Sans  date  d'ann^e  dHmpres- 
sion  ;  in  folio  gotique.    See  De  Bure. 

Note  4.— St.  Hubert,  p.  16 

Every  vocation  had,  in  the  middle  ages,  its  protecting  saint.  The  chase,  with 
its  fortunes  and  its  hazards,  the  business  of  so  many  and  the  amusement  of  all, 
was  placed  under  the  direction  of  St.  Hubert.  This  silvan  saint  was  the  son  of 
Bertrand  Duke  of  Acquitaine,  and,  while  in  the  secular  state,  was  a  courtier  of 
King  Pepin.  He  was  passionately  fond  of  the  chase,  and  used  to  neglect  attend- 
ance on  divine  worship  for  this  amusement.  While  he  was  once  engaged  in  this 
pastime,  a  stag  appeared  before  him,  having  a  crucifix  bound  between  his  horns, 
and  he  heard  a  voice  which  menaced  him  with  eternal  punishment  if  he  did  not 
repent  of  his  sins.  He  rehired  from  the  world  and  took  orders,  his  wife  having 
also  retreated  into  the  cloister.  Hubert  afterwards  became  Bishop  of  Maestricht 
and  Liege  ;  and  from  his  zeal  in  destroying  remnants  of  idolatry  is  called  the 
Apostle  of  Ardennes  and  of  Brabant.  Those  who  were  descended  of  his  race  were 
supposed  to  possess  the  power  of  curing  persons  bitten  by  mad  dogs 

Note  5. — Covin  Tree,  p.  23 

The  large  tree  in  front  of  a  Scottish  castle  was  sometimes  called  so.  It  is  diffi- 
cult to  trace  the  derivation;  but  at  that  distance  from  the  castle  the  laird  re- 
ceived guests  of  rank,  and  thither  he  convoyed  them  on  their  departure. 

Note  6.— Duke  op  Gueldres,  p.  80 

This  was  Adolphus,  son  of  Arnold  and  of  Catherine  de  Bourbon.  The  present 
story  has  little  to  do  with  him,  though  one  of  the  most  atrocious  characters  of 
his  time.  He  made  war  against  his  father  ;  in  which  unnatural  strife  he  made 
the  old  man  prisoner,  and  used  him  with  the  most  brutal  violence,  proceeding,  it 
is  said,  even  to  the  length  of  striking  him  with  his  hand.  Arnold,  in  resentment 
of  this  usage,  disinherited  the  unprincipled  wretch,  and  sold  to  Charles  of  Bur- 
gundy whatever  rights  he  had  over  the  duchy  of  Gueldres  and  earldom  of  Zut- 
phen.  Mary  of  Burgundy,  daughter  of  Charles,  restored  these  possessions  to  the 
mimatural  Adolphus,  who  was  slain  in  1477. 

433 


434  WA  VERLEY  NOVELS 

Note  7.— Constable  St.  Paul,  p.  81 

This  part  of  Louis  XL's  reign  was  much  embarrassed  by  the  Intrigues  of  the 
Constable  St.  Paul,  who  affected  independence,  and  carried  on  intrigues  with 
England,  France,  and  Burgundy  at  the  same  time.  According  to  the  usual  fate 
Df  such  versatile  politicians,  the  Constable  ended  by  drawing  upon  himself  the 
animosity  of  all  the  powerful  neighbors  whom  he  had  in  their  turn  amused  and  de- 
ceived. He  was  delivered  up  by  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  to  the  King  of  France, 
tried,  and  hastily  executed  for  treason,  1475. 

Note  8.— Bishop  and  Stephens,  p.  40 

Sir  Henry  R.  Bishop,  the  popular  composer,  and  sometime  professor  of  music 
in  Edinburgh  University,  died  in  1855.  Miss  Catherine  Stephens  was  a  delightful 
vocalist,  who  performed  at  the  principal  concerts  and  musical  festivals  about 
the  time  this  was  written.  In  1838  she  became  Countess  of  Essex  by  her  marriage 
with  George,  the  fifth  ear  (Laing). 

Note  9.— Use  op  Stilts,  p.  44 

The  crutches  or  stilts  which  in  Scotland  are  used  to  pass  rivers.  They  are 
employed  by  the  peasantry  of  the  country  near  Bourdeaux  to  traverse  those 
deserts  of  loose  sand  called  Landes. 

Note  10. — "  Better  Kind  Fremit,"  etc.,  p.  55 

"  Better  kind  strangfers  than  estranged  kindred."  The  motto  is  engraved  on 
a  dirk  belonging  to  a  person  who  had  but  too  much  reason  to  choose  such  a  de- 
vice. It  was  left  by  him  to  my  father,  and  is  connected  with  a  strange  course  of 
adventures,  which  may  one  day  be  told.    The  weapon  is  now  in  my  possession. 

Note  11.— Skene  Dhu,  p.  58 

Black  knife  ;  a  species  of  knife  without  clasp  or  hinge,  formerly  much  used  by 
the  Highlanders,  who  seldom  traveled  without  such  an  ugly  weapon,  though  it 
is  now  rarely  used. 

Note  12. — Gipsies  or  Bohemians,  p.  59 

In  a  former  volume  (Guy  Mannering)  of  this  edition  of  the  Waverley  Novels, 
the  reader  will  find  some  remarks  on  the  gipsies  as  they  are  found  in  Scotland. 
But  it  is  well  known  that  this  extraordinary  variety  of  the  human  race  exists  in 
nearly  the  same  primitive  state,  speaking  the  same  language,  in  almost  all  the 
kingdoms  of  Europe,  and  conforming  in  certain  respects  to  the  manners  of  the 
people  around  them,  but  yet  remaining  separated  from  them  by  certain  material 
distinctions,  in  which  they  correspond  with  each  other,  and  thus  maintain  their 
pretensions  to  be  considered  as  a  distinct  race.  Their  first  appearance  in  Europe 
took  place  in  the  beginning  of  the  15th  century,  when  various  bands  of  this 
singular  people  appeared  in  the  different  countries  of  Europe.  They  claimed  an 
Egyptian  descent,  and  their  features  attested  that  they  were  of  Eastern  origin. 
The  account  given  by  these  singular  people  was,  that  it  was  appointed  to  them, 
as  a  penance,  to  travel  for  a  certain  number  of  years.  This  apology  was  probably 
selected  as  being  most  congenial  to  the  superstitions  of  the  countries  which  they 
visited.  Their  appearance,  however,  and  manners  strongly  contradicted  the 
allegation  that  they  traveled  from  any  religious  motive. 

Their  dress  and  accoutrements  were  at  once  showy  and  squalid  ;  those  who 
acted  as  captains  and  leaders  of  any  horde,  and  such  always  appeared  as  their 
commanders,  were  arrayed  in  dresses  of  the  most  showy  colors,  such  as  scarlet 
or  light  green,  were  well  mounted,  assumed  the  title  of  dukes  and  counts,  and 
affected  considerable  consequence.  The  rest  of  the  tribe  were  most  miserable 
in  their  diet  and  apparel,  fed  without  hesitation  on  animals  which  had  died  of 
disease,  and  were  clad  in  filthy  and  scanty  rags,  which  hardly  sufficed  for  the 
ordinary  purposes  of  common!  decency.  Their  complexion  was  positively  East- 
ern, approaching  to  that  of  the  Hindoos. 

Their  manners  were  as  depraved  as  their  appearance  was  poor  and  beggarly. 
Tlie  men  were  in  general  thieves,  and  the  women  of  the  most  abandoned  char- 
acter. The  few  arts  which  they  studied  with  success  were  of  a  slight  and  idle, 
though  ingenious,  description.  They  practised  working  in  iron,  but  never  upon 
any  great  scale.  Many  were  good  sportsmen,  good  musicians,  and  masters,  in  a 
word,  of  all  those  trivial  arts  the  practise  of  which  is  little  better  than  mere  Idl»- 


NOTES  TO  qUENTIN  DURWARB  435 

noss.  But  their  ingenuity  never  ascended  into  industry.  Two  or  three  other 
peculiarities  seem  to  have  distinguished  them  in  all  countries.  Their  pretensions 
to  read  fortunes,  by  palmistry  and  by  astrology,  acquired  them  sometimes  re- 
spect, but  oftener  drew  them  under  suspicion  as  sorcerers ;  and  lastly,  the  uni- 
versal accusation  chat  they  augmented  their  horde  by  stealing  children  subjected 
them  to  doubt  and  execration.  From  this  it  happened  that  the  pretension  set 
up  by  these  wanderers  of  being  pilgrims  in  the  act  of  penance,  although  it  was 
at  first  admitted,  and  in  many  instances  obtained  them  protection  from  the 
governments  of  the  countries  through  which  they  traveled,  was  afterwards 
totally  disbelieved,  and  they  were  considered  as  incorrigible  rogues  and  vagrants  ; 
they  incurred  almost  everywhere  sentence  of  banishment,  and.  where  suffered 
to  remain,  were  rather  objects  of  persecution  than  of  protection  from  the  law. 

There  is  a  curious  and  accurate  account  of  their  arrival  in  France  in  the  journal 
of  a  doctor  of  theology,  which  is  preserved  and  published  by  the  learned  Pasquier 
\Les  Recherches  de  la  France,  iv.  chap.  xix.  1723] .  The  following  is  an  extract  :— 
"•  On  August  27th,  1427,  came  to  Paris  twelve  penitents,  penanciers  (penance 
doers),  as  they  called  themselves,  viz.  a  duke,  an  earl,  and  ten  men,  all  on  horse- 
back, and  calling  themselves  good  Christians.  They  were  of  Lower  Egypt,  and 
gave  out  that,  not  long  before,  the  Christians  had  subdued  their  country,  and 
obliged  them  to  embrace  Christianity  on  pain  of  being  put  to  death.  Those  who 
were  baptized  were  great  lords  in  their  own  country,  and  had  a  king  and  queen 
there.  Soon  after  their  conversion,  the  Saracens  overran  the  country,  and  ob- 
liged them  to  i-enounce  Christianity.  When  the  Emperor  of  Germany,  the  King 
of  Poland,  and  other  Christian  princess  heard  of  this,  they  fell  upon  them,  and 
obliged  the  whole  of  them,  both  great  and  small,  to  quit  the  country  and  go  to  the 
Pope  at  Rome,  who  enjoined  them  seven  years'  penance  to  wander  over  the 
world,  without  lying  in  a  bed. 

"  They  had  been  wandering  five  years  when  they  came  to  Paris  first ;  the 
principal  people,  and  soon  after  the  commonalty,  about  100  or  120,  reduced  (ac- 
cording to  their  own  account)  from  1000  or  1200,  when  they  went  from  home,  the 
rest  being  dead,  with  their  king  and  queen.  They  were  lodged  by  the  police  at 
some  distance  from  the  city,  at  Chapel  St.  Denis. 

"  Nearly  all  of  them  had  their  ears  bored,  and  wore  two  silver  rings  in  each, 
which  they  said  were  esteemed  ornaments  in  their  country.  The  men  were 
black,  their  hair  curled  ;  the  women  remarkably  black,  their  only  clothes  a  large 
old  duffle  garment,  tied  over  the  shoulders  with  a  cloth  or  cord,  and  under  it  a 
miserable  rocket.  In  short,  they  were  the  most  poor  miserable  creatures  that 
had  ever  been  seen  in  France  ;  and,  notwithstanding  their  poverty,  there  were 
among  them  women  who,  by  looking  into  people's  hands,  told  their  fortunes,  and 
what  was  worse,  they  picked  people's  pockets  of  their  money,  and  got  it  into 
their  own,  by  telling  these  things  through  airy  magic,  et  ccetera.'''' 

Notwithstanding  the  ingenious  account  of  themselves  rendered  by  these  gipsies, 
the  Bishop  of  Paris  ordered  a  friar,  called  Le  Petit  Jacobin,  to  preach  a  sermon, 
excommunicating  all  the  men  and  women  who  had  had  recourse  to  these  Bohe- 
mians on  the  subject  of  the  future,  and  shown  their  hands  for  that  purpose. 
They  departed  from  Paris  for  Pontoise  in  the  month  of  September. 

Pasquier  remarks  upon  this  singular  journal,  that,  however  the  story  of  a 
penance  savors  of  a  trick,  these  people  wandered  up  and  down  France,  under 
the  eye,  and  with  the  knowledge,  of  the  magistrates,  for  more  than  a  hundred 
years  ;  and  it  was  not  till  1561  that  a  sentence  of  banishment  was  passed  against 
them  in  that  kingdom. 

The  arrival  of  the  Egyptians,  as  these  singular  people  were  called,  in  various 
parts  of  Europe  corresponds  with  the  period  in  which  Timur  or  Tamerlane  in- 
vaded Hindostan.  affording  its  natives  the  choice  between  the  Koran  and  death. 
There  can  be  little  doubt  that  these  wanderers  consisted  originally  of  the  Hindo- 
stanee  tribes,  who,  displaced,  and  flying  from  the  sabres  of  the  Mahommedans, 
undertook  this  species  of  wandering  life,  without  well  knowing  whither  they 
were  going.  It  is  natural  to  suppose  the  band,  as  it  now  exists,  is  much  mingled 
with  Europeans  ;  but  most  of  these  have  been  brought  up  from  qhildhood  among 
them,  and  learned  all  their  practices. 

It  is  strong  evidence  of  this,  that  when  they  are  in  closest  contact  with  the 
ordinary  peasants  around  them,  they  still  keep  their  language  a  mystery.  There 
is  little  doubt,  however,  that  it  is  a  dialect  of  the  Hindostanee,  from  the  speci- 
mens produced  by  Grellmaen,  Hoyland,  and  others,  who  have  written  on  the 
subject.  But  the  Author  has,  besides  their  authority,  personal  occasion  to  know 
that  an  individual,  out  of  mere  curiosity,  and  availing  himself  with  patience  and 
assiduity  of  such  opportunities  as  offered,  has  made  himself  capable  of  convers- 
ing with  any  gipsy  whom  he  meets,  or  can,  like  the  royal  Hal,  drink  with  any 
tinker  in  his  own  language.  The  astonishment  excited  among  tTiese  vagrants  on 
finding  a  stranger  participant  of  their  mystery  occasions  very  ludicrous  scenes. 
It  is  hoped  this  gentleman  will  publish  the  knowledge  he  possesses  on  so  singular 
a.  topic 


436  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

There  are  prudential  reasons  for  postponing  this  disclosure  at  present ;  for 
although  much  more  reconciled  to  society  since  they  have  been  less  the  objects 
of  legal  persecution,  the  gipsies  are  still  a  ferocious  and  vindictive  people. 

But  notwithstanding  this  is  certainly  the  case,  I  cannot  but  add,  from  my  own 
observation  of  nearly  flf  tv  years,  that  the  manners  of  these  vagrant  tribes  are 
much  ameliorated,  that  I  nave  known  individuals  amongst  them  who  have  united 
themselves  to  civilized  society,  and  maintain  respectable  characters,  and  that 
great  alteration  has  been  wrought  in  their  cleanliness  and  general  mode  of  life. 

Note  13.— Petit-Andre,  p.  63 

One  of  these  two  persons,  I  learned  from  the  Chronique  de  Jean  de  Tropes, 
but  too  late  to  avail  myself  of  the  information,  might  with  more  accuracy  have 
been  called  Petit-Jean  than  Petit- Andr6.  This  was  actually  the  name  of  the  son 
of  Henry  de  Cousin,  master  executioner  of  the  High  Court  of  Justice.  The  Con- 
stable St.  Paul  was  executed  by  him  with  such  dexterity  that  the  head,  when 
struck  off,  struck  the  ground  at  the  same  time  with  the  body.    This  was  in  1475.— 

The  History  of  Louis  XI.,  King  of  France,  attributed  to  Jean  de  Troyes,  forms 
a  supplement  to  the  Memoirs  of  Philip  de  Comines.  It  was  originally  published 
under  the  title  of  The  Chronicles  of  the  very  Christian  and  very  Victorious  Loui$ 
of  Valois,  etc.,  1460  to  1483  ;  but  was  afterwards  vulgarly  called  La  Chronique 
Scandaleuse. 

A  convenient  edition  of  the  translation  of  Comines  and  this  supplement  forms 
two  volumes  of  Bohn's  series  of  French  Memoirs  {Laing). 

Note  14.— Quarrels  op  Scottish  Archers,  p.  73 

Such  disputes  between  the  Scots  Guards  and  the  other  constituted  authorities 
of  the  ordmary  military  corps  often  occurred.  In  1474,  two  [three]  Scotsmen 
had  been  concerned  in  robbing  John  Pensart,  a  fishmonger,  of  a  large  sum  of 
money.  They  were  accordingly  apprehended  by  Philip  du  Four,  provost,  with 
some  of  his  followers.  But  ere  they  could  lodge  one  or  them,  called  Mortimer, 
in  the  prison  of  the  Chastellet,  they  were  attacked  by  two  archers  of  the  King's 
Scottisn  Guard,  who  rescued  the  prisoner.  See  Chronique  de  Jean  de  Troyes,  at 
the  said  year,  1474. 

Note  15.— Scottish  Auxiliaries,  p.  74 

In  both  these  battles,  the  Scottish  auxiliaries  of  France,  under  Stewart  Earl  of 
Buchan,  were  distinguished.  At  Beaug6  they  were  victorious,  killing  the  Duke 
of  Clarence,  Henry  V.'s  brother,  and  cutting  off  his  army.  At  Vernoil  they  were 
defeated  and  nearly  extirpated. 

Note  16.— Oliver  Dain,  p.  84 

Oliver's  name,  or  nickname,  was  Le  Diable,  which  was  bestowed  on  him  by 
public  hatred,  in  exchange  for  Le  Daim,  or  Le  Dain.  He  was  originally  the 
King's  barber,  but  afterwards  a  favorite  counselor. 

Note  17.— Card-Playing,  p.  91 

Dr.  Dryasdust  here  remarks  that  cards,  said  to  have  been  invented  in  a  pre- 
ceding reign,  for  the  amusement  of  Charles  V,  [VI,]  during  the  intervals  of  his 
mental  disorder,  seems  speedily  to  have  become  common  among  the  courtiers, 
since  they  already  furnished  Louis  XI.  with  a  metaphor.  The  same  proverb  was 
quoted  by  Durandarte,  in  the  enchanted  cave  of  Montesinos.  The  alleged  origin 
of  the  invention  of  cards  produced  one  of  the  shrewdest  replies  I  have  ever  heard 
given  in  evidence.  It  was  made  by  the  late  Dr.  Gregory  of  Edinburgh  to  a  coun- 
sel of  great  eminence  at  the  Scottish  bar.  The  Doctor's  testimony  went  to  prove 
the  insanity  of  the  party  whose  mental  capacity  was  the  point  at  issue.  On  a 
cross-interrogation,he  admitted  that  the  person  in  question  played  admirably  at 
whist.  "  And  do  you  seriously  say,  doctor,"  said  the  learned  counsel,  "  that  a 
person  having  a  superior  capacity  for  a  game  so  difficult,  and  which  requires  in 
a  pre-eminent  degree  memory,  judgment,  and  combination,  can  be  at  the  same 
time  deranged  in  his  understanding  ?  "  "I  am  no  card-player,"  said  the  doctor, 
with  great  address,  "  hnt  I  have  read  in  history  that  cards  were  invented  for  the 
amusement  of  an  insane  king."    The  consequences  of  this  reply  were  decisive. 

Note  18.— Order  of  Qxjlden  Fleece,  p.  92 
Th«  mllitarj  order  of  the  Golden  Fleece  was  instituted  by  Philip  the  Ck>od, 


NOTES  TO  QUENTIN  DUB  WARD  437 

Duke  of  Burgundy,  in  the  year  1429,  the  King  of  Spain  being  grand-master  of 
the  order,  as  Duke  of  Burgundy.  The  number  of  knights  was  limited  to  thirty* 
one  {Laing). 

Note  19.— Louis  and  his  Daughter,  p.  101 

Here  the  King  touches  on  the  very  purpose  for  which  he  pressed  on  the  match 
with  such  tyrannic  severity,  which  was,  that,  as  the  Princess's  personal  deform- 
ity admitted  little  chance  of  its  being  fruitful,  the  branch  of  Orleans,  which  was 
next  in  succession  to  the  crown,  might  be,  by  the  want  of  heirs,  weakened  or 
extinguished.  In  a  letter  to  the  Compte  de  Dammar  tin,  Louis,  speaking  of  his 
daughter's  match,  says,  "  Qu'ils  n'auroient  pas  beaucoup  d'embarras  a  nourrii 
les  enfans  que  naitroient  de  leur  union  ;  mais  cependant  elle  aura  lieu,  quelque 
chose  qu'on  en  puisse  dire."— Wraxall's  History  of  France,  vol.  i.  p.  143,  note. 

Note  20.— Balue's  Horsemanship,  p.  102 

A  friendly,  though  unknown,  correspondent  has  pointed  out  to  me  that  I  have 
been  mistaken  in  alleging  that  the  cardinal  was  a  bad  rider.  If  so,  I  owe  his 
memory  an  apology  ;  for  there  are  few  men  who,  until  my  latter  days,  have  loved 
that  exercise  better  than  myself.  But  the  cardinal  may  have  been  an  indifferent 
horseman,  though  he  wished  to  be  looked  upon  as  equal  to  the  dangers  of  the 
chase.  He  was  a  man  of  assumption  and  ostentation,  as  he  showed  at  the  siege 
of  Paris  in  1465,  where,  contrary  to  the  custom  and  usage  of  war,  he  mounted 
guard  during  the  night  with  an  unusual  sound  of  clarions,  trumpets,  and  other 
mstruments.  In  imputing  to  the  cardinal  a  want  of  skill  in  horsemanship.  I 
recollected  his  adventure  in  Paris  when  attacked  by  assassins,  on  which  occasion 
his  mule,  being  scared  by  the  crowd,  ran  away  with  the  rider,  and  taking  its 
course  to  a  monastery,  to  the  abbot  of  which  he  formerly  belonged,  was  the 
means  of  saving  his  master's  life. — See  Jean  de  Troyes's  Chronicle. 

Note  21,— Louis  XI.  and  Charlemagne,  p.  113 

Charlemagne,  I  suppose  on  account  of  his  unsparing  rigor  to  the  Saxons  and 
other  heathen,  was  accounted  a  saint  during  the  dark  ages ;  and  Louis  XI.,  as 
one  of  his  successors,  honored  his  shrine  with  peculiar  observance. 

Note  22.— Mxhider  op  Douglas,  p.  117 

The  Princess  Margaret,  eldest  daughter  of  King  James  the  First,  when  only 
eleven  years  of  age,  was  married  to  Louis,  Dauphin  of  France,  at  the  age  of 
twelve,  on  the  6th  of  July  1436.  It  proved  an  unfortunate  marriage,  and  the 
accomplished  princess  (her  husband  not  succeeding  till  1461  to  the  throne  of 
France)  died  without  issue,  August  1445,  in  her  twenty-third  year,  it  is  said  of 
a  broken  heart.  The  allusion  in  the  text  is  to  the  fate  of  James  Earl  of  Douglas, 
who,  upon  the  faith  of  a  safe-conduct,  after  several  acts  of  rebellion,  visited 
James  the  Second  in  the  Castle  of  Stirling.  The  king,  irritated  by  some  per- 
sonal affront,  but  quite  unpremeditated,  drew  his  dagger  and  stabbed  Douglas, 
who  received  his  mortal  wound  from  Sir  Patrick  Grey,  one  of  the  king's  attend- 
ants (who  had  previously  vowed  revenge  against  the  proud  earl),  on  the  22d 
February  1452  (Laing). 

Note  23.— Louis's  Humor,  p.  121 

The  nature  of  Louis  XL's  coarse  humor  may  be  guessed  at  by  those  who  have 
perused  the  Cent  Nouvelles  Nouvelles,  which  are  grosser  than  most  similar  col- 
lections of  the  age. 

The  work  is  dedicated  by  its  anonymous  author  to  the  Dauphim  of  France, 
afterwards  Louis  XI.  It  was  first  printed  at  Paris  in  1486  by  Antoine  Verard, 
and,  according  to  Burnet,  afterwards  passed  through  ten  editions  (Laing). 

Note  24. — Galeotti,  p.  148 

Martins  Galeotti  was  a  native  of  Narni,  in  Umbria.  He  was  secretary  ta 
Matthias  Corvinus,  King  of  Hungary,  and  tutor  to  his  son,  John  Corvinus.  While 
at  his  court,  he  composed  a  work,  De  Jocose  Dictis  et  Factis  Regis  Matthioa 
Corvini.  He  left  Hungary  in  1477,  and  was  made  prisoner  at  Venice  on  a  charge 
of  having  propagated  heterodox  opinions  in  a  treatise  entitled,  De  Homine  lu' 
teriore  et  Corpore  ejus.  He  was  obliged  to  recant  some  of  these  doctrines,  and 
might  have  suffered  seriously  but  for  the  protection  of  Sextus  IV.,  then  Pope* 


438  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

who  had  been  one  of  his  scholars.    He  went  to  France,  attached  hlmselt  to  Louis 
XI.,  and  died  in  his  service. 

Note  25. — Invention  of  PRiNTiNa,  p.  149 

The  invention  of  printing  was  really  first  practised  at  Mayence,  on  the  Rhine. 
While  the  first  book  issued  from  that  press  bears  the  date  1457,  the  first  from 
Frankfort  is  dated  1507  {Laing),  [This  ignores  the  claims  made  on  behalf  of 
Coster  of  Haarlem.] 

Note  26.— Religion  of  the  Bohemians,  p.  178 

It  was  a  remarkable  feature  of  the  character  of  these  wanderers  that  they  did 
not,  like  the  Jews,  whom  they  otherwise  resembled  in  some  particulars,  possess 
or  profess  any  particular  religion,  whether  in  form  or  principle.  They  readily 
conformed,  as  far  as  might  be  required,  with  the  religion  of  any  country  in  which 
they  happened  to  sojourn,  nor  did  they  ever  practise  it  more  than  was  demanded 
of  them.  It  is  certain  that  in  India  they  embraced  neither  the  tenets  of  the 
religion  of  Bramah  nor  of  Mahomet.  They  have  hence  been  considered  as  be- 
longing to  the  outcast  East  Indian  tribes  of  Nuts  or  Parias.  Their  want  of  relig- 
ion is  supplied  by  a  good  deal  of  superstition.  Such  of  their  ritual  as  can  be 
discovered,  for  example  that  belonging  to  marriage,  is  savage  in  the  extreme, 
and  resembles  the  customs  of  the  Hottentots  more  than  of  any  civilized  people. 
They  adopt  various  observances,  picked  up  from  the  religion  of  the  country  in 
which  they  live.  It  is,  or  rather  was,  the  custom  of  the  tribes  on  the  Borders  of 
England  and  Scotland  to  attribute  success  to  those  journeys  which  are  com- 
menced by  passing  through  the  parish  church  ;  and  they  usually  try  to  obtain 
permission  from  the  beadle  to  do  so  when  the  church  is  empty,  for  the  perform- 
ance of  divine  service  is  not  considered  as  essential  to  the  omen.  They  are, 
therefore,  totally  devoid  of  any  effectual  sense  of  religion ;  and  the  higher  or 
more  instructed  class  may  be  considered  as  acknowledging  no  deity  save  those 
of  Epicurus,  and  such  is  described  as  being  the  faith,  or  no  faith,  of  Hayraddin 
Maugrabin. 

I  may  here  take  notice  that  nothing  is  more  disagreeable  to  this  indolent  and 
voluptuous  people  than  being  forced  to  follow  any  regular  profession.  When 
Paris  was  garrisoned  by  the  Allied  troops  in  the  year  1815,  the  Author  was  walk- 
ing with  a  British  officer  near  a  post  held  by  the  Prussian  troops.  He  happened 
at  the  time  to  smoke  a  cigar,  and  was  about,  while  passing  the  sentinel,  to  take 
it  out  of  his  mouth,  in  compliance  with  a  general  regulation  to  that  effect,  when, 
greatly  to  the  astonishment  of  the  passengers,  the  soldier  addressed  them  in 
these  words  :— "  Rauchen  sie  immerfort ;  verdammt  sey  der  Preussiche  Dienst  I " 
that  is.  "  Smoke  away  ;  may  the  Prussian  service  be  d— d  !  "  Upon  looking  closely 
at  the  man,  he  seemed  plainly  to  be  a  zigeuner,  or  gipsy,  who  took  this  method 
of  expressing  his  detestation  of  the  duty  imposed  on  him.  When  the  risk  he 
ran  by  doing  so  is  considered,  it  will  be  found  to  argue  a  deep  degree  of  dislike 
which  could  make  him  commit  himself  so  unwarily.  If  he  had  been  overheard 
by  a  sergeant  or  corporal,  the  priigel  would  have  been  the  slightest  instrument 
dt  punishment  employed. 


Note  27.~Wolf  Superstition,  p. 

Vox  (juoque  Moerim 
Ti,r .-J irior( 

iRGiLii  Ecloga,  Ix. 


Jam  fugit  Ipsa ;  lupi  Mcenm  videre  priores. 

VI 


The  commentators  add,  in  explanation  of  this  passage,  the  opinion  of  Pliny  : 
"  The  being  beheld  by  a  wolf  in  Italy  is  accounted  noxious,  and  is  supposed  to 
take  away  the  speech  of  a  man,  if  these  animals  behold  him  ere  he  sees  them." 

Note  28.— The  Squire  of  Lowe  Degree,  p.  211 

There  are  two  written  black-letter  editions  of  this  old  English  poem  or  tale, 
but  only  one  perfect  copy  is  known,  from  which  it  was  reprinted  by  Ritson,  in 
his  Ancient  National  Romances,  1802 ;  and  since,  more  accurately,  in  Mr.  Has- 
Utt's  collected  Remains  of  Early  Popular  Poetry  of  England,  1866  (Laing) 

Note  29.— Quentin's  Adventure  at  Liege,  p.  220 

The  adventure  of  Quentin  at  Liege  may  be  thought  overstrained,  yet  it  Is  ex- 
traordinary what  slight  circumstances  will  influence  the  public  mind  in  a  moment 


NOTES  TO  QUENTIN  DURWABD  439 

of  doubt  and  uncertainty.  Most  readers  must  remember  that,  when  the  Dutch 
were  on  the  point  of  rising  against  the  French  yoke,  their  zeal  for  Uberation  re- 
ceived a  strong  impulse  from  the  landing  of  a  person  in  a  British  volunteer  uni« 
form,  whose  presence,  though  that  of  a  private  individual,  was  received  as  a 
guaranty  of  succors  from  England. 

Note  80.— Battle  of  St.  Tron,  p.  238 

Fought  by  the  insurgents  of  Liege  against  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  Charles  the 
Bold,  when  Count  of  Charolais,  in  which  the  people  of  Liege  were  defeated  with 
great  slaughter. 

Note  31.— Murder  of  the  Bishop  of  Liege,  p.  251 

In  assigning  the  present  date  to  the  murder  of  the  Bishop  of  Liege,  Louis  de 
Bourbon,  history  has  been  violated.  It  is  true  that  the  bishop  was  made  prisoner 
by  the  insurgents  of  that  city.  It  is  also  true  that  the  report  of  the  insurrection 
came  to  Charles  with  a  rumor  that  the  bishop  was  slain,  which  excited  his  indig- 
nation against  Louis,  who  was  then  in  his  power.  But  these  things  happened  in 
1467,  and  the  bishop's  murder  did  not  take  place  till  1482.  In  the  months  of  August 
and  September  of  that  year,  William  de  la  Marck,  called  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes, 
entered  into  a  conspiracy  with  the  discontented  citizens  of  Liege  against 
their  bishop,  Louis  of  Bourbon,  being  aided  with  considerable  sums  of  money  by 
the  King  of  France.  By  this  means,  and  the  assistance  of  many  murderers  and 
banditti,  who  thronged  to  him  as  to  a  leader  befitting  them,  De  la  Marck  assem- 
bled a  body  of  troops,  whom  he  dressed  in  scarlet  as  a  uniform,  with  a  boar's 
head  on  the  left  sleeve.  With  this  little  army  he  approached  the  city  of  Liege. 
Upou  this  the  citizens,  who  were  engaged  in  the  conspiracy,  came  to  their  bishop, 
and,  offering  to  stand  by  him  to  the  death,  exhorted  him  to  march  out  against 
these  robbers.  The  bishop,  therefore,  put  himself  at  the  head  of  a  few  troops  of 
his  own,  trusting  to  the  assistance  of  the  people  of  Liege.  But  so  soon  as  they 
came  in  sight  of  the  enemy,  the  citizens,  as  before  agreed,  fled  from  the  bishop's 
banner,  and  he  was  left  with  his  own  handful  of  adherents.  At  this  moment  De 
la  Marck  charged  at  the  head  of  his  banditti  with  the  expected  success.  The 
bishop  was  brought  before  the  profligate  knight,  who  first  cut  him  over  the  face, 
then  murdered  him  with  his  own  hand,  and  caused  his  body  to  be  exposed  naked 
in  the  great  square  of  Liege  before  St.  Lambert's  cathedral. 

Such  is  the  actual  narrative  of  a  tragedy  which  struck  with  horror  the  people 
of  the  time.  The  murder  of  the  bishop  has  been  fifteen  years  antedated  in  the 
text,  for  reasons  which  the  reader  of  romances  will  easily  appreciate. 

Note  82.— Schwarzreiters,  p.  270 

Fynes  Morrison  describes  this  species  of  soldiery  as  follows :— "  He  that  at  this 
day  looks  upon  their  schwartz  reytem  (that  is,  black  horsemen)  must  confess 
that,  to  make  their  horses  and  boots  shine,  they  make  themselves  as  black  as 
collyers.  These  horsemen  wear  black  clothes,  and  poor  though  they  be,  yet 
spend  no  small  time  in  brushing  them.  The  most  of  them  have  black  horses, 
which,  while  they  painfully  dress,  and  fas  I  said)  delight  to  have  their  boots  and 
shoes  shine  with  blacking  stuff,  their  hands  and  faces  become  black,  and  thereof 
they  have  their  foresaid  name.  Yea  I  have  heard  Germans  say  that  they  do  thus 
make  themselves  black  to  seem  more  terrible  to  their  enemies.^'— Itinerary,  edi- 
tion 1617  [Part  HI.],  p.  165. 

Note  88.— PfiRONNE,  p.  285 

Indeed,  though  lying  on  an  exposed  and  warlike  frontier,  it  was  never  taken  by 
an  enemy,  but  preserved  the  proud  name  of  P6ronne  la  Pucelle,  until  the  Duke  of 
Wellington,  a  great  destroyer  of  that  sort  of  reputation,  took  the  place  in  the 
memorable  advance  upon  Paris  in  1815. 

Note  84.— D'Hymbercourt,  p.  286 

D'Hymbercourt,  or  Imbercourt,  was  put  to  death  by  the  inhabitants  of  Ghent 
with  the  Chancellor  of  Burgundy  in  the  year  1477.  Mary  of  Burgundy,  daughter 
of  Charles  the  Bold,  appeared  in  mourning  in  the  market-place,  and  with  tears 
besought  the  life  of  her  servants  from  her  insurgent  subjects,  but  in  vain. 

Note  85.— Philip  des  Comines,  p.  287 

Philip  des  Comlnes  was  described  in  the  former  editions  of  this  work  as  a  little 
man,  fitted  rather  for  counsel  than  action.    This  was  a  description  made  at  a 


440  WA  VEBLET  NO VELS 

venture,  to  rary  the  military  portraits  with  which  the  age  and  work  abound. 
Sleidan  the  historian,  upon  the  authority  of  Matthieu  d'Arves,  who  knew  Philip 
des  Comines,  and  had  sefved  in  his  household,  says  he  was  a  man  of  tall  stature 
and  a  noble  presence.  The  learned  Monsieur  Petitot,  editor  of  the  edition  of 
Memoirs  relative  to  the  Hisotry  of  France^  a  work  of  great  value,  intimates  that 
Philip  des  Comines  made  a  figure  at  the  games  of  chivalry  and  pageants  ex- 
hibited on  the  wedding  of  Charles  of  Burgundy  with  Margaret  of  England  in  1468. 
See  the  Chronicle  of  Jean  de  Troyes,  in  Peti tot's  edition  of  the  Memoires  Relatifs 
d  VHistoire  de  France  [first  series),  vol.  xiii.  p.  875,  note.  I  have  looked  into 
Olivier  de  la  Marche,  who,  in  lib.  ii.  chapter  iv.  of  his  Memoirs,  gives  an  ample 
account  of  these  "  fierce  vanities,"  containing  as  many  miscellaneous  articles  as 
tile  reticule  of  the  old  merchant  of  Peter  Schlemihl,  who  bought  shadows,  and 
carried  with  him  in  his  bag  whatever  any  one  could  wish  or  demand  in  return. 
There  are  in  that  splendid  description  knights,  dames,  pages,  and  archers,  good 
store  besides  of  castle-Jt,  fiery  dragons,  and  dromedaries  ;  there  are  leopards  rid- 
ing upon  lions  ;  there  are  rocks,  orchards,  fountains,  spears  broken  and  whole, 
and  the  twelve  labors  of  Hercules.  In  such  a  brilliant  medley  I  had  some  trouble 
in  finding  Philip  des  Comines.  He  is  the  first  named,  however,  of  a  gallant  band 
of  assailants,  knights,  and  noblemen,  to  the  number  of  twenty,  who,  with  the 
Prince  of  Orange  as  their  leader,  encountered,  in  a  general  tourney,  with  a  party 
of  the  same  number  under  the  profligate  Adolf  of  Cleves,  who  acted  as  challenger, 
by  the  romantic  title  of  Arhre  d'Or.  The  encounter,  though  with  arms  of  court- 
esy, was  very  fierce,  and  separated  by  main  force,  not  without  difliculty.  Philip 
des  Comines  has,  therefore,  a  title  to  be  accounted  tam  Marte  qiiam  Mercurio^ 
though,  when  we  consider  the  obscurity  which  has  settled  on  the  rest  of  this 
troupe  doree,  we  are  at  no  loss  to  estimate  the  most  valuable  of  his  qualifications. 
[Compare  also  Note  45,  p.  443.] 

Note  86.— Meeting  of  Loms  nsn  Charles  afteb  the  Battle  of 
Montl'he'ry,  p.  288 

After  the  battle  of  Montl'hSry,  in  1465,  Charles,  then  Compte  de  Charolais,  had 
an  interview  with  Louis  under  the  walls  of  Paris,  each  at  the  head  of  a  small 
party.  The  two  princes  dismounted  and  walked  together,  so  deeply  engaged  in 
discussing  the  business  of  their  meeting,  that  Charles  forgot  the  peculiarity  of 
his  situation ;  and  when  Louis  turned  back  towards  the  town  of  Paris,  from 
which  he  came,  the  Count  of  Charolais  kept  him  company  so  far  as  to  pass  the 
line  of  outworks  with  which  Paris  was  surrounded,  and  enter  a  field-work  which 
communicated  with  the  town  by  a  trench.    At  this  period  he  had  only  five  or  six 

Eersons  in  company  with  him.  His  escort  caught  an  alarm  for  his  safety,  and 
is  principal  followers  rode  forward  from  where  he  had  left  them,  remembering 
that  his  grandfather  had  been  assassinated  at  Montereau  in  a  similar  parley,  on 
10th  September,  1419.  To  their  great  joy  the  count  returned  uninjured,  accom- 
panied with  a  guard  belonging  to  Louis.  The  Burgundians  taxed  him  with  rash- 
ness in  no  measured  terms.  "  Say  no  more  of  it,"  said  Charles ;  "  I  acknowledge 
the  extent  of  my  folly,  but  I  was  not  aware  what  I  was  doing  till  I  entered  the  re- 
doubt."— Memoires  de  Philippe  des  Comines,  chap.  xiii. 

Louis  was  much  praised  for  his  good  faith  on  this  occasion ;  and  it  was  natural 
that  the  duke  should  call  it  to  recollection  when  his  enemy  so  imexpectedly  put 
himself  in  his  power  by  his  visit  to  P6ronne. 

Note  87.— Louis's  Suspicious  Character,  p.  296 

The  arrival  of  three  brothers,  princes  of  the  house  of  Savoy,  of  Monsei^eur  de 
Lau,  whom  the  King  had  long  detained  in  prison,  ot  Sire  Poncet  de  Rivi6re,  and 
the  Seigneur  d'Urfe— who,  by  the  way,  as  [ancestoi  of]  a  romance  writer  of  a 
peculiar  turn,  might  have  been  happily  enough  introduced  into  the  present  work, 
but  the  fate  of  the  Euphuist  was  a  warning  to  the  Author— all  of  these  nobles 
bearing  the  emblem  of  Burgundy,  the  cross,  namely,  of  St.  Andrew,  inspired 
Louis  with  so  much  suspicion  that  he  very  impohtically  demanded  to  be  lodged 
in  the  old  Castle  of  P6ronne,  and  thus  rendered  hinriself  an  absolute  captive.— See 
Comines's  Memoirs  for  the  Year  1468. 

Note  88.— Historical  Epitome,  p.  821 

The  historical  facts  attending  this  celebrated  interview  are  expounded  and  en- 
larged  upon  in  chapter  xxvii.  Agents  sent  by  Louis  had  tempted  the  people  of 
Lie^e  to  rebel  against  their  superior,  Duke  Charles,  and  persecute  and  murder 
their  bishop.  But  Louis  was  not  prepared  for  their  acting  with  such  prompti4 
tude.  They  flew  to  arms  with  the  temerity  of  a  fickle  rabble,  took  the  bishop 
prisoner,  menaced  and  insulted  him,  and  tore  to  pieces  one  or  two  of  his  canons. 
The  news  was  sent  to  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  at  the  moment  when  Louis  bad  so 


NOTES  TO  QUENTIN  DUBWABD  441 

unguardedly  placed  himself  in  his  power  ;  and  the  consequence  was,  that  Charles 
placed  guards  on  the  Castle  of  P6ronne,  and,  deeply  resenting  the  treachery  of 
the  King  of  France  in  exciting  sedition  in  his  dominions,  while  he  pretended  the 
most  intimate  friendship,  he  deliberated  whether  he  should  not  put  Louis  to 
death. 

Three  days  Louis  was  detained  in  this  very  precarious  situation  ;  and  it  was 
only  his  profuse  liberality  amongst  Charles's  favorites  and  courtiers  which 
finally  ensured  him  from  death  or  deposition.  Comines,  who  was  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy's  chamberlain  at  the  time  and  slept  in  his  apartment,  says  Charles 
neither  undressed  nor  slept,  but  flung  himself  from  time  to  time  on  the  bed,  and 
at  other  times  wildly  traversed  the  apartment.  It  was  long  before  his  violent 
temper  became  in  any  degree  tractable.  At  length  he  only  agreed  to  give  Louis 
his  liberty  on  condition  of  his  accompanying  him  in  person  against,  and  employ- 
ing his  troops  in  subduing,  the  mutineers  whom  his  intrigues  had  instigated  to 
arms. 

This  was  a  bitter  and  degrading  alternative.  But  Louis,  seeing  no  other  mode 
of  compounding  for  the  effects  of  his  rashness,  not  only  submitted  to  this  dis- 
creditable condition,  but  swore  to  it  upon  a  crucifix  said  to  have  belonged  to 
Charlemagne.  These  particulars  are  from  Comines.  There  is  a  succinct  epitome 
of  them  in  Sir  Nathaniel  Wraxall's  History  of  France,  vol.  i. 

Note  39.— Punishment  of  Balub,  p.  828 

Louis  kept  his  promise  of  vengeance  against  Cardinal  La  Balue,  whom  he  al- 
ways blamed  as  having  betrayed  him  to  Burgundy.  After  he  had  returned  to  his 
own  kingdom,  he  caused  his  late  favorite  to  be  immured  in  one  of  the  iron  cages 
at  Loches.  These  were  constructed  with  horrible  ingenuity,  so  that  a  person  of 
ordinary  size  could  neither  stand  up  at  his  full  height  nor  lie  lengthwise  in  them. 
Some  ascribe  this  horrible  device  to  Balue  himself.  At  any  rate,  he  was  confined 
in  one  of  these  dens  for  eleven  years,  nor  did  Louis  permit  him  to  be  liberated 
till  his  last  illness. 

Note  40.— Prayer  of  Louis  XI.,  p.  329 

While  I  perused  these  passages  in  the  old  manuscript  chronicle,  I  could  not 
help  feeling  astonished  that  an  intellect  acute  as  that  of  Louis  XI.  certainly  was 
could  so  delude  itself  by  a  sort  of  superstition  of  which  one  would  think  the 
stupidest  savages  incapable ;  but  the  terms  of  the  King's  prayer,  on  a  similar  oc- 
casion, as  preserved  by  Brantome,  are  of  a  tenor  fully  as  extraordinary.  It  is 
that  which,  being  overheard  by  a  fool  or  jester,  was  by  him  made  pubhc,  and  let 
in  light  on  an  act  of  fratricide  which  might  never  have  been  suspected.  The 
way  in  which  the  story  is  narrated  by  the  corrupted  courtier,  who  could  jest 
with  all  that  is  criminal  as  well  as  with  all  that  is  profligate,  is  worthy  the  reader's 
notice;  for  such  actions  are  seldom  done  where  there  are  not  men  with  hearts  of 
the  nether  millstone,  capable  and  willing  to  make  them  matters  of  laughter. 

Among  the  numerous  good  tricks  of  dissimulation,  feints,  and  finesses  of  gal- 
lantry which  the  good  King  (Louis  XI.)  did  in  his  time,  he  put  to  death  his 
brother,  the  Duke  de  Guyenne,  at  the  moment  when  the  Duke  least  thought  of 
such  a  thing,  and  while  the  King  was  making  the  greatest  show  of  love  to  him 
during  his  life,  and  of  affection  for  him  at  his  death,  managing  the  whole  concern 
with  so  much  art  that  it  would  never  have  been  known  had  not  the  King  taken 
into  his  own  service  a  fool  who  had  belonged  to  his  deceased  brother.  But  it 
chanced  that  Louis,  being  engaged  in  his  devout  prayers  and  orisons  at  the  high 
altar  of  Our  Lady  of  C16ry,  whom  he  called  his  good  patroness,  and  no  person 
nigh  except  this  fool,  who,  without  his  knowledge,  was  within  earshot,  he  thus 
gave  vent  to  his  pious  homilies  : 

"  Ah,  my  good  Lady,  my  gentle  mistress,  my  only  friend,  in  whom  alone  I  have 
resource,  Ijpray  you  to  supplicate  God  in  my  behalf,  and  to  be  my  advocate  with 
Him  that  He  may  pardon  me  the  death  of  my  brother,  whom  I  caused  to  be 
poisoned  by  that  wicked  abbot  of  St.  John.  I  confess  my  guilt  to  thee  as  to  my 
good  patroness  and  mistress.  But  then  what  could  I  do  ?  he  was  perpetually 
causing  disorder  in  my  kingdom.  Cause  me  then  to  be  pardoned,  my  good  Lady, 
and  I  know  what  a  reward  1  will  give  thee." 

This  singular  confession  did  not  escape  the  jester,  who  upbraided  the  King 
with  the  fratricide  in  the  face  of  the  whole  company  at  dinner,  which  Louis  was 
fain  to  let  pass  without  observation,  in  case  of  increasing  the  slander. 

Note  41.— Louis's  Vengeance,  p.  333 

Varmaa,  in  a  history  of  Louis  XI.,  obssrves,  that  his  provost-marshal  was  often 


442  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS  ' 

so  precipitate  in  execution  as  to  slay  another  person  instead  of  him  whom  the 
King  had  indicated.  This  always  occasioned  a  double  execution,  for  the  wrath 
or  revenge  of  Louis  was  never  satisfied  with  a  vicarious  punishment. 

Note  43.— Tristan  L'Hermitk,  p.  335 

The  Author  has  endeavored  to  give  to  the  odious  Tristan  THermite  a  species  of 
dogged  and  brutal  fidelity  to  Louis  similar  to  the  attachment  of  a  bull-dog  to  his 
master.  With  all  the  atrocity  of  his  execrable  character,  he  was  certainly  a 
man  of  courage,  and  was,  in  his  youth,  made  knight  on  the  breach  of  Fronsac, 
with  a  great  number  of  other  young  nobles,  by  the  honor-giving  hand  of  the 
elder  Dunois>  the  celebrated  hero  of  Charles  V.  [VII.]'s  reign.  . 

Note  43.— Prediction  of  Louis  XL's  Death,  p.  341 

The  death  of  Martins  Galeotti  was  in  some  degree  connected  with  Louis  XL 
The  astrologer  was  at  Lyons,  and  hearing  that  the  King  was  approaching  the 
city,  got  on  horseback  in  order  to  meet  him.  As  he  threw  himself  hastily  from 
his  horse  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  King,  he  fell  with  a  violence  which,  joined  to 
his  extreme  corpulence,  was  the  cause  of  his  death  in  1478. 

But  the  acute  and  ready-witted  expedient  to  escape  instant  death  had  no  ref- 
erence to  the  history  of  this  philosopher.  The  same,  or  nearly  the  same,  story 
is  told  of  Tiberius,  who  demanded  of  a  soothsayer,  Thrasyllus,  if  he  knew  the 
day  of  his  own  death,  and  received  for  answer,  "  It  would  take  place  just  three 
days  before  that  of  the  Emperor."  On  this  reply,  instead  of  being  thrown  over 
the  rocks  into  the  sea,  as  had  been  the  tyrant's  first  intention,  he  was  taken  great 
care  of  for  the  rest  of  his  life. — Taciti  Annal.,  lib.  vi.  cap.  20-22, 

The  circumstances  in  which  Louis  XL  received  a  similar  reply  from  an  astrol- 
oger are  as  follow  :— The  soothsayer  in  question  had  presaged  that  a  female 
favorite,  to  whom  the  King  was  very  much  attached,  should  die  in  a  week.  As 
he  proved  a  true  prophet,  the  King  was  as  much  incensed  as  if  the  astrologer 
could  have  prevented  the  evil  he  predicted.  He  sent  for  the  philosopher,  and 
had  a  party  stationed  to  assassinate  him  as  he  retired  from  the  royal  presence. 
Being  asked  by  the  King  concerning  his  own  fortunes,  he  confessed  that  he  per- 
ceived signs  of  some  imminent  danger.  Being  farther  questioned  concerning 
the  day  of  his  own  death,  he  was  shrewd  enough  to  answer  with  composure,  that 
it  would  be  exactly  three  days  before  that  of  his  Majesty.  There  was,  of  course, 
care  taken  that  he  should  escape  his  destined  fate  ;  and  he  was  ever  after  much 
protected  by  the  King,  as  a  man  of  real  science,  and  intimately  connected  with 
the  royal  destinies. 

Although  almost  all  the  historians  of  Louis  represent  him  as  a  dupe  to  the 
common  but  splendid  imposture  of  judicial  astrology,  yet  his  credulity  could 
not  be  deep-rooted,  if  the  following  anecdote,  reported  by  Bayle,  be  correct  : 

Upon  one  occasion,  Louis,  intending  to  hunt,  and  doubtful  of  the  weather,  in- 
quired of  an  astrologer  near  his  person  whether  it  would  be  fair.  The  sage, 
having  recourse  to  his  astrolabe,  answered  with  confidence  in  the  affirmative. 
At  the  entrance  of  the  forest  the  royal  cortege  was  met  by  a  charcoalman,  who 
expressed  to  some  menials  of  the  train  his  surprise  that  the  King  should  have 
thought  of  hunting  in  a  day  which  threatened  tempest.  The  collier's  prediction 
proved  true.  The  King  and  his  court  were  driven  from  their  sport  well  drenched  ; 
and  Louis,  having  heard  what  the  collier  had  said,  ordered  the  man  before  him. 
"  How  were  you  more  accurate  in  foretelling  the  weather,  my  friend,"  said  he, 
*' than  this  learned  man  ? "  "I  am  an  ignorant  man,  sire,"  answered  the  collier, 
*'  was  never  at  school,  and  cannot  read  or  write.  But  I  have  an  astrologer  of 
my  own,  who  shall  foretell  weather  with  any  of  them.  It  is,  with  reverence,  the 
ass  who  carries  my  charcoal,  who  always,  when  bad  weather  is  approaching, 
points  forward  his  ears,  walks  more  slowly  than  usual,  and  tries  to  rub  himself 
against  walls  ;  and  it  was  from  these  signs  that  I  foretold  yesterday's  storm." 
The  King  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughing,  dismissed  the  astrological  biped,  and  as- 
signed the  collier  a  small  pension  to  maintain  the  quadruped,  swearing  he  would 
never  in  future  trust  to  any  other  astrologer  than  the  charcoalman's  ass. 

But  if  there  is  any  truth  in  this  story,  the  credulity  of  Louis  was  not  of  a  nature 
to  be  removed  by  the  failure  there  mentioned.  He  is  said  to  have  believed  in 
the  prediction  of  Angelo  Cattho,  his  physician,  and  the  friend  of  Comines,  who 
foretold  the  death  of  Charles  of  Burgundy  in  the  very  time  and  hour  vvhen  it 
took  place  at  the  battle  of  Morat  [Nancy].  Upon  this  assurance,  Louis  vowed  a 
silver  screen  to  the  shrine  of  St.  Martin,  which  he  afterwards  fulfilled  at  the  ex- 

nse  of  one  hundred  thousand  francs.  It  is  well  known,  besides,  that  he  was 
he  abject  and  devoted  slave  of  his  physicians.  Coctier,  or  Cothier,  one  of  their 
number,  besides  the  retaining  fee  of  ten  thousand  crowns,  extorted  from  his 
royal  patient  great  sums  in  lands  and  money,  and,  in  addition  to  all,  the  bishopric 
of  Amiens  for  his  nephew.    He  maintained  over  Louis  unbounded  influence,  by 


pe 
th< 


NOTES  TO  qVENTIN  DUBWABD  .443 

using  to  him  the  most  disrespectful  harshness  and  insolence.  "  I  know,*'  he  said 
to  the  suffering  King,  "•  that  one  morning  you  will  turn  me  adrift  like  so  many 
others.  But,  by  Heaven,  you  had  better  beware,  for  you  will  not  live  eight  days 
after  you  have  done  so  1 "  It  is  unnecessary  to  dwell  longer  on  the  fears  and 
superstitions  of  a  prince  whom  the  wretched  love  of  life  induced  to  submit  to 
such  indignities. 

Note  44.— Ankcdotk  op  the  Boots,  p.  856 

The  story  is  told  more  bluntly,  and  less  probably,  in  the  French  memoirs  of 
the  period,  which  affirm  that  Comines,  out  of  a  presumption  inconsistent  with 
his  excellent  good  sense,  had  asked  of  Charles  of  Burgundy  to  draw  off  his  boots, 
without  having  been  treated  with  any  previous  familiarity  to  lead  to  such  a  free- 
dom. I  have  endeavored  to  give  the  anecdote  a  turn  more  consistent  with  the 
sense  and  prudence  of  the  great  author  concerned. 

Note  45.— Philip  des  Comines,  p.  362 

There  is  little  doubt  that,  during  the  interesting  scene  at  P6ronne,  Philip  des 
Comines  first  learned  intimately  to  know  the  great  powers  of  mind  of  Louis  XI., 
by  which  he  was  so  much  dazzled  that  it  is  impossible,  in  reading  his  Memoirs, 
not  to  be  sensible  that  he  was  blinded  by  them  to  the  more  odious  shades  of  his 
character.  He  entertained  from  this  time  forward  a  partiaUty  to  France.  The 
historian  passed  into  France  about  1472,  and  rose  high  in  the  good  graces  of 
Louis  XI.  He  afterwards  became  the  proprietor  of  the  lordship  of  Argenton 
and  others,  a  title  which  was  given  him  by  anticipation  in  the  earliest  editions 
of  this  work.  He  did  not  obtain  it  till  he  was  in  the  French  service.  After  the 
death  of  Louis,  Philip  des  Comines  fell  under  the  suspicion  of  the  daughter  of 
Louis,  called  our  Lady  of  Beaujeu,  as  too  zealous  a  partisan  of  the  rival  house 
of  Orleans.  The  historian  himself  was  imprisoned  for  eight  months  in  one  of  the 
iron  cages  which  he  has  so  forcibly  described.  It  was  (here  that  he  regretted 
the  fate  of  a  court  life.  "I  have  ventured  on  the  great  ocean,"  he  said,  in  his 
aflaiction,  "  and  the  waves  have  devoured  me."  He  was  subjected  to  a  trial,  and 
exiled  from  court  for  some  years  by  the  Parliament  of  Paris,  being  found  guilty 
of  holding  intercouse  with  disaffected  persons.  He  survived  this  cloud,  however, 
and  was  afterwards  employed  by  Charles  VIII.  in  one  or  two  important  missions, 
where  talents  were  required.  Louis  XII.  also  transferred  his  favor  to  the  histo- 
rian, but  did  not  employ  him.  He  died  at  his  Castle  of  Argenton  in  1509,  and  was 
regretted  as  one  of  the  most  profound  statesmen,  and  certainly  the  best  histo- 
rian, of  his  age.  In  a  poem  to  his  memory  by  the  poet  Ronsard,  he  received  the 
distinguished  praise,  that  he  was  the  first  to  show  the  luster  which  valor  and 
noble  blood  derived  from  being  united  with  learning.  [Compare  also  Note  85,  p. 
444.] 

Note  46.— Disguised  Herald,  p.  389 

The  heralds  of  the  middle  ages,  like  the  feciales  of  the  Romans,  were  Invested 
vrith  a  character  which  was  held  almost  sacred.  To  strike  a  herald  was  a  crime 
which  inferred  a  capital  punishment ;  and  to  counterfeit  the  character  of  such 
an  august  official  was  a  degree  of  treason  towards  those  men  who  were  accounted 
the  depositaries  of  the  secrets  of  monarchs  and  the  honor  of  nobles.  Yet  a 
prince  so  unscrupulous  as  Louis  XI.  did  not  hesitate  to  practise  such  an  imposi- 
tion, when  he  wished  to  enter  into  communication  with  Edward  IV.  of  England. 

Exercising  that  knowledge  of  mankind  for  which  he  was  so  eminent,  he  se- 
lected, as  an  agent  fit  for  his  purpose,  a  simple  valet.  This  man,  whose  address 
had  been  known  to  him,  he  disguised  as  a  herald,  with  all  the  insignia  of  his  ofiBce, 
and  sent  him  in  that  capacity  to  open  a  communication  with  the  English  army. 
Two  things  are  remarkable  in  this  transaction.  First,  that  the  stratagem, 
though  of  so  fraudulent  a  nature,  does  not  seem  to  have  been  necessarily  called 
for,  since  all  that  King  Louis  could  gain  by  it  would  be,  that  he  did  not  commit 
himself  by  sending  a  more  responsible  messenger.  Tlie  other  circumstance 
worthy  of  notice  is,  that  Comines,  though  he  mentions  the  affair  at  great  length, 
is  so  pleased  with  the  King's  shrewdness  in  selecting,  and  dexterity  at  indoctrin- 
ating, his  pseudo-herald,  that  he  forgets  all  remark  on  the  impudence  and  fraud 
of  the  imposition,  as  well  as  the  great  risk  of  discovery  ;  from  both  which  cir- 
cumstances we  are  led  to  the  conclusion,  that  the  solemn  character  which  the 
heralds  endeavored  to  arrogate  to  themselves  had  already  begun  to  lose  regard 
among  statesmen  and  men  of  the  great  world. 

Even  Feme,  zealous  enough  for  the  dignity  of  the  herald,  seems  to  impute  this 
Intrusion  on  their  rights  in  some  degree  to  necessity. 

**  I  have  heard  some,"  he  says,  ^*  but  with  shame  enough,  allow  of  the  action  of 


444  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

Louis  the  Eleventh,  King  of  France,  who  had  so  unknightly  a  regard  hoth  of  his 
own  honor  and  also  of  armes,  that  he  had  seldom  about  his  court  any  offlcer-at- 
armes.  And  therefore,  at  such  time  as  King  Edward  the  Fourth,  King  of  England, 
had  entered  France  with  hostile  power,  and  lay  before  the  town  of  St.  Quentin, 
the  same  French  king,  for  want  of  a  herald  to  carry  his  mind  to  the  English  king, 
was  constrained  to  subornate  a  vadelict.  or  common  serving-man,  with  a  trumpet, 
banner,  having  a  hole  made  through  the  middest  for  this  preposterous  herauld 
to  put  his  head  through,  and  to  cast  it  over  his  shoulders  instead  of  a  better  coat- 
armor  of  France.  And  thus  came  this  hastily-arrayed  courier  as  a  counterfeit 
officer-at-arms,  with  instructions  from  his  sovereign's  mouth  to  offer  peace  to  our 
king.  "  Well,"  replies  Torquatus,  the  other  interlocutor  in  the  dialogue,  "  that 
fault  was  never  yet  to  be  found  in  any  of  our  English  kings,  nor  ever  shall  be,  I 
ho]?e.''— Blazon  of  Gentrie,  1586,  pp.  161, 162. 

In  this  curious  book,  the  author,  besides  some  assertions  in  favor  of  coat-armor, 
too  nearly  approaching  blasphemy  to  be  quoted,  informs  us  that  the  Apostles 
were  gentlemen  of  blood,  and  many  of  them  descended  from  that  worthy  con- 
queror, Judas  Maccabaeus  ;  but  through  the  course  of  time  and  persecution  of 
wars,  poverty  oppressed  the  kindred,  and  they  were  constrained  to  servile  works. 
So  were  the  four  doctors  and  fathers  of  the  church  (Ambrose,  Augustine, 
Hierome,  and  Gregorie)  gentlemen  both  of  blood  and  arms  (p.  98).  The  Author's 
copy  of  this  rare  tract  (memorial  of  a  hopeful  young  friend,  now  no  more)  ex- 
hibits a  curious  sally  of.  the  national  and  professional  irritability  of  a  Scottish 
herald. 

This  person  appears  to  have  been  named  Thomas  Drysdale,  Islay  Herald,  who 
purchased  the  volume  in  1619,  and  seems  to  have  perused  it  with  patience  and 
profit  till  he  came  to  the  following  passage  in  Feme,  which  enters  into  the  dis- 
tinction between  sovereign  and  feudatory  crowns.  "  There  is  also  a  king,  and  he 
a  homager,  or  foedatorie  to  the  estate  and  majestic  of  another  king,  aj  to  his 
superior  lord,  is  that  of  Scotland  to  our  English  empire."  This  assertion  set  on 
fire  the  Scottish  blood  of  Islay  Herald,  who,  forgetting  the  book  had  been  printed 
nearly  forty  years  before,  and  that  the  author  was  probably  dead,  writes  on  the 
margin  in  great  wrath,  and  in  a  half- text  hand,  "  He  is  a  traitor  and  lyar  in  his 
throat,  and  I  offer  him  the  combat,  that  says  Scotland's  kings  were  ever  f euda- 
torie  to  England." 

Note  47.— Prize  of  Honor,  p.  407. 

The  perilling  the  hand  of  an  heiress  upon  the  event  of  a  battle  was  not  so  likely 
to  take  place  in  the  14th  century  as  when  the  laws  of  chivalry  were  in  more  gen- 
eral observance.  Yet  it  was  not  unlikely  to  occur  to  so  absolute  a  prince  as  Duke 
Charles,  in  circumstances  like  those  supposed. 

Note  48.— Bride  of  De  la  Marck,  p.  410. 

It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  add,  that  the  marriage  of  William  de  la  Marck  with 
the  Lady  Hameline  is  as  apocryphal  as  the  lady  herself.  The  real  bride  of  the 
Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes  was  Joan  D'Arschel,  Baroness  of  Schoonhoven. 

Note  49.— Attack  upon  Liege,  p.  417. 

The  Duke  of  Burgundy,  full  of  resentment  for  the  usage  which  the  bishop  had 
received  from  the  people  of  Liege  (whose  death,  as  already  noticed,  did  not  take 
place  for  some  years  after),  and  knowing  that  the  walls  of  the  town  had  been 
repaired  since  they  were  breached  by  himself  after  the  battle  of  St.  Tron,  ad- 
vanced recklessly  to  their  chastisement.  His  commanders  shared  his  presump- 
tuous confidence  ;  for  the  advanced  guard  of  his  army,  under  the  Mar6chal  of 
Burgundy  and  Seigneur  D'Hymbercourt,  rushed  upon  one  of  the  suburbs,  with- 
out waiting  for  the  rest  of  their  army,  which,  commanded  by  the  Duke  in  person, 
remained  about  seven  or  eight  leagues  in  the  rear.  The  night  was  closing,  and, 
as  the  Burgundian  troops  observed  no  discipline,  they  were  exposed  to  a  sudden 
attack  from  a  party  of  the  citizens  commanded  by  Jean  de  Vilde,  who,  assaulting 
them  in  front  and  rear,  threw  them  into  great  disorder,  and  killed  more  than 
eight  hundred  men,  of  whom  one  hundred  were  men-at-arms. 

When  Charles  and  the  King  of  France  came  up,  they  took  up  their  quarters 
In  two  villas  situated  near  to  the  wall  of  the  city.  Ir  the  two  or  three  days  which 
followed,  Louis  was  distinguished  for  the  quiet  and  regulated  composure  with 
which  he  pressed  the  siege,  and  provided  for  defence  in  case  of  sallies ;  while  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy,  no  way  deficient  in  courage,  and  who  showed  the  rashness 
and  want  of  order  which  was  his  principal  characteristic,  seemed  also  extremely 
suspicious  that  the  King  would  UMwrt  him  and  join  with  the  Liegeois. 


NOTES  TO  qUENTIN  DURWABB  445 

They  lay  beforer  the  town  for  five  or  six  days,  and  at  length  fixed  the  30th  of 
October  1468  for  a  general  storm.  The  citizens,  who  had  probably  information  of 
their  intent,  resolved  to  prevent  their  purpose,  and  determined  on  anticipating 
it  by  a  desperate  sally  through  the  breaches  in  their  walls.  They  placed  at  their 
head  six  hundred  of  the  men  of  the  little  territory  of  Franchemont,  belonging  to 
the  bishopric  of  Liege,  and  reckoned  the  most  valiant  of  their  troops.  They 
burst  out  of  the  town  on  a  sudden,  surprised  the  Duke  of  Burgundy's  quarters 
ere  his  guards  could  put  on  their  armor,  which  they  had  laid  off  to  enjoy  some 
repose  before  the  assault.  The  King  of  France's  lodgings  were  also  attacked  and 
endangered.  A  great  confusion  ensued,  augmented  incalculably  by  the  mutual 
jealousy  and  suspicions  of  the  French  and  Burgundians.  The  people  of  Liege 
were,  however,  unable  to  maintain  their  hardy  enterprise,  when  tne  men-at-arms 
of  the  King  and  Duke  began  to  recover  from  their  confusion,  and  were  finally 
forced  to  retire  within  their  walls,  after  narrowly  missing  the  chance  of  surpris- 
ing both  King  Louis  and  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  the  most  powerful  princes  of 
their  time.  At  daybreak  the  storm  took  place,  as  had  been  originally  intended, 
and  the  citizens,  disheartened  and  fatigued  by  the  nocturnal  sally,  did  not  make 
so  much  resistance  as  was  expected.  Liege  was  taken  and  miserably  pillaged, 
without  regard  to  sex  or  age,  things  sacred  or  things  profane.  These  particulars 
are  fully  related  by  Comines  in  his  Memoirs^  liv.  ii.  chaps.  11,  12,  13,  and  do  not 
differ  much  from  the  account  of  the  same  events  in  chapters  xxxv.  and  xxxvi. 

Note  50.— Anachronisms,  p.  429 

We  have  already  noticed  the  anachronism  respecting  the  crimes  of  this  atro- 
cious baron  ;  and  it  is  scarce  necessary  to  repeat,  that  if  he  in  reality  murdered 
the  Bishop  of  Liege  in  1482,  the  Count  of  La  Marck  could  not  be  slain  in  the  de- 
fence of  Liege  four[teen]  years  earlier.  In  fact,  the  Wild  Boar  of  Ardennes,  as 
he  was  usually  termed,  was  of  high  birth,  being  the  third  son  of  John  I.,  Count 
of  La  Marck  and  Aremberg,  and  ancestors  of  the  branch  called  Barons  of  Lu- 
main.  He  did  not  escape  the  punishment  due  to  his  atrocity,  though  it  did  not 
take  place  at  the  time,  or  in  the  manner,  narrated  in  the  text.  Maximillian 
Emperor  of  Austria,  caused  him  to  be  arrested  at  Utrecht,  where  he  was  beheaded 
in  the  year  1485,  three  years  after  the  Bishop  of  Liege's  death. 

Note  51.    Descent  of  the  Leslies,  p.  429 

An  old  rhyme,  by  which  the  Leslies  vindicate  their  descent  from  an  ancient 
hero,  who  is  said  to  have  slain  a  gigantic  Hungarian  champion,  and  to  have 
formed  a  proper  name  for  himself  by  a  play  of  words  upon  tne  place  where  he 
fought  hi*  adversary. 


a   V'l" 


■»Tv 


GLOSSARY 

OF 

WORDS,  PHRASES,  AND  ALLUSIONS 


jkbcrbrothock,  now  called 
Arwroath,  a  town  in  For- 
farshire 
Ahonne^  was,  subscribed 
Aboulcasem,     of      Basra, 
noted  for  his  generosity 
and  magnificence.     See 
Weber,  Tales  of  the  East, 
Tol.  ii.  p.  308 
AbyCy  to  pay  the  penalty 

for 
Ad  sacra^  for  holy  things 
Agnes  Sorel,  or  Soreau, 
mistress  of  Charles  VII. 
of  France,  who  is  said 
to  have  prompted   the 

gatriotic  efforts  of  that 
ing  against  the  English 
in  the  15th  century 
Aiguilettes,  tagged  points 
Aldebaran,    the   name 

fiven  to  a  star  of  the 
rst  magnitude  in  the 
constellation  Taurus 
(Bull),  one  of  the  four 
"  royal  stars  "  of  the 
ancient  Egyi)tians 

Allegro,  joy,  mirth.  Com- 
pare Milton's  L* Allegro 

Amadis  and  Oriana,  the 
hero  and  heroine  of  the 
romance  of  chivalry  en- 
titled Amadis  of  Oaul 

Angelica,  the  heroine  of 
Ariosto's  Orlando  Fu~ 
rioso,  who  falls  in  love 
with  the  obscure  squire 
Medoro 

Angela,  Henry,  celebrated, 
riding  and  fencing  mas- 
ter at  the  beginning  of 
the  19th  century.  (See  his 
Reminiscences  (2  vols. 
1828-30) 

Angus,  the  old  name  of 
Forfarshire 

Annuncio  vobis  gaudium 
magnum,  I  announce  to 
you  tidings  of  great  joy 

Arbre  d'Or,  golden  tree 

Aroint,  avaunt,  begone 

Assiett6e,  plateful 

Astroea,  the  English 
dramatist,  Aphra  Behn 
(1640-890  whose  plays  are 


too    frequently    coarse 
and  indelicate 

Astudous,  astute,  crafty 

Avherge,  inn 

Aught,  possession 

Autant  de  perdu,  so  much 
lost 

Auvernat,  red  wine  of  Or- 
leans 

"  Aiixerre  est  la  boisson 
des  rois,"  Auxerre  (wine, 
is  the  drink  of  kings 

Azincoury  Agincourt, 
fought  in  1415 


Back-friend,  a  backer, 
friend  to  fall  back  upon 

Badaud,  gazer,  gossip 

Bailey,  a  space  between 
two  circuits  or  walls  of 
defence  in  a  castle 

Ban  and  arriere-ban^  the 
entire  feudal  force 

Bande  Noire,  a  company 
of  speculators  who 
bought  up  the  large  es- 
tates of  the  old  noble 
families  of  France,  then 
demolished  the  cha- 
teaux and  sold  the  land 
in  small  parcels 

Barbour,  Scotch  poet  (14th 
century),  author  of  a 
long  poem  on  the  ex- 
ploits of  Robert  Bruce 

Bastard  of  Rubempre',  a 
nephew  of  the  Count  of 
Croye,  who  was  accused 
of  being  an  agent  of 
Louis  XI.  employed  to 
carry  off  (1464)  the  Count 
of  Charolais  (Charles  of 
Burgundy) 

Bavaroise,  tea  sweetened 
with  vegetable  syrup 
(capillaire) 

Bayes.  See  The  Rehearsal, 
Act  iv.  sc.  1 

Beati  pacifici.  Blessed  are 
the  peaceful 

Beati  qui  in  Domino  mori- 
untur,  Blessed  are  the 
dead  that  die  in  the 
Lord 

447 


Benedicite,  blessing,  ro. 
turning  of  thanks 

Bifteck  de  mouton^  beet- 
steak  of  mutton 

Black  Walloons.  The  Wal- 
loons, descendants  of  the 
Gallic  Belgae,  live  in  the 
Ardennes  and  on  both 
sides  of  the  Franco-Bel- 
gian frontier.  Black 
was  no  doubt  the  color 
of  the  uniform  worn  by 
Charles  of  Burgundy's 
Walloon  soldiers 

Blate,  bashful 

Bottrine,    small     leather 


Bouilli,  boiled  meat 

Brach,  hound  that  hunts 
by  scent 

Braeman,  one  who  lives 
on  the  southern  slope  of 
the  Grampians 

Brag,  to  challenge,  proud* 
ly  defy 

Brantwein,  brandy 

Braw-warld,  showy,  gaudy 

Brogue,  a  Highlander's 
shoe  of  undressed  hide 

Browst,  brewage,  bever- 
age brewed 

Bruder,  brother 

Buchan,  John  Stuxirt,  Earl 
of,  commanded  the 
Scottish  auxiliaries  in 
France  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  VII.;  he  was  a 
son  of  Regent  Albany, 
and  grandson  of  Robert 
II.  of  Scotland 

Bushment,  or  ambush- 
ment,  an  ambush 


Cabaret,  wine -shop, 
tavern 

Call  an  I,  boy,  stripling  ; 
brato  callant,  a  fine  fel- 
low 

Calthrop,  or  caltrop,  a 
spiked  iron  ball;  gin, 
trap 

CanatZZe,  rascal  mob 

Cap  de  DioUf  God's  head 
—a  Gascon  oath 


448 


WAVERLET  NOVELS 


Carcanet,  necklace,  chain 
of  jewels 

Carte,  menu,  bill  of  fare 

Caserne,  barracks 

Catchpoll,  a  warrant-oflfi- 
cer  who  arrests  for  debt 

Cathay,  China 

Cense',  reputed 

Cerneau,  the  half  kernel 
of  an  unripe  walnut 

Cham  (of  Tartary),  khan, 
i.e.  chief  ruler  of  the 
Tartars  in  Muscovy 

Chapeau  a  plumes,  hat 
with  feathers,  plumed 
hat 

Chapeau  bras,  three  cor- 
nered hat  with  a  low 
crown 

Chares,  household  work 

Chasse-cafe,  more  cor- 
rectly poiisse-cafe,  a 
small  glass  of  brandy  or 
liqueur  taken  after  cof- 
fee 

Chdteau  Margout,  or  Mar- 
gaux,  claret  of  the  very 
first  brand 

Chdteau  of  Sully,  called 
Sully,  on  the  left  bank 
of  the  Loire  (modern 
dept.  Loiret),  where  the 
great  minister  of  Henry 
IV.  wrote  his  Me'moires 

Chield,  fellow 

Chiromantist,  one  who 
tells  fortunes  by  palm- 
istry or  the  hand 

Chouse,  cheat,  swindle 

Cinq  francs,  five  francs 
(the  bottle) 

Clery,  about  10  miles  below 
Orleans  on  the  Loire ; 
Louis  XI.  was  buried 
there 

Cocagne,  an  imaginary 
country,  where  good  liv- 
ing and  idleness  are  the 
chief  objects  or  pursuits 
of  the  inhabitants 

Cockered,  pampered, 
brought  uj)  indulgently 

Colin  Maillard,  blind- 
man's  buff 

Combust,  astrological 
term  for  a  planet  that  is 
too  near  the  sun 

Comfiture,  preparation  of 
preserved  fruit,  confec- 
tion 

Coming  (countess),  in- 
clined to  make  advances, 
forward,  eager 

Conde',  Louis  Joseph  de 
Bourbon,  Prince  of, 
French  general  in  the 
Seven  Years'  War  and 
the  military  chief  of  the 
emigres  on  the  Rhine, 
after  the  fall  of  the 
Bastille 

Corbie^  ravMi 


Cdtelette  d  la  Maintenon, 
mutton  cutlets  served 
with  parsley,  mush- 
rooms, and  brown  sauce 

Couchee,  a  levee  held  just 
before  retiring  to  sleep 

Craig,  neck 

Croix  de  St.  Louis,  the 
decoration  of  a  military 
order  founded  by  Louis 
XIV.  in  1693,  for  distin 
guished  service  by  Ro- 
man Catholic  officers, 
was  a  gold  eight-armed 
cross  bearing  on  one  side 
the  efflgy  of  St.  Louis  of 
France,  and  on  the  other 
a  flaming  sword  passed 
through  a  laurel  crown 

Cullion,  poltroon 

Cumey,  small  number 

Dajffing,  loose  talk 

Dariole,  a  pastry  cake  con- 
taining cream 

Das  ist,  that  is,  i.e. 

Deas,  dais 

Debout,  etc.  (p.  284),  Arise 
— arise,  gentlemen,  it's 
time  to  be  going  1 

De  Bure,  G.  F.,  a  cele- 
brated French  biblio- 
grapher of  the  18th  cent- 
ury 


Demi-solde,  half -pay 
Denis   Montjoye,  the   old 
war-cry  of  the  French 


Der  bischoff,  or  bischof, 
the  bishop 

Doddered,  covered  with 
twining  parasites,  such 
as  mistletoe 

Dogberry.  The  allusion  is 
to  Much  Ado  About 
Nothing,  Act  iv.  sc.  2 

Dolly,  a  cook  who  gave 
her  name  to  Dolly's 
Tavern  in  Paternoster 
Row,  London  ;  her  por- 
trait was  painted  by 
Gainsborou^ 

Donner  and  blitz,  thunder 
and  lightning  1  a  Ger- 
man oath ;  donner  and 
hagel,  thunder  and  hail  1 

Dorff,  or  dorf,  a  village 

Douglas,  Archibald, 
fourth  Earl  of.  entered 
the  service  of  France 
and  was  made  Duke  of 
Touraine,  in  1423 

Du  bist  ein  comischer  man, 
you  are  a  funny  fellow 

Duffle,  a  coarse  woolen 
cloth  with  a  thick  nap 

Du  Chiesclin,  Bertrand, 
Constable  of  France,  her 
greatest  soldier  during 
the  14th  century 

Dwrindarie,  should  be 
Durindana,  or  Duran- 
danot    tbe    «word    of 


I  Orlando  (Roland)  In  the 
Orlando  Furioso 

'  Dyes,  gewgaws,  paltry  or- 
naments 

Eb->',is,  in  Mohammedan 
mythology,  the  chief  of 
the  fallen  angels 

Ebro's  temper.  The  allu- 
sion is  doubtless  to  the 
celebrated  weapons  of 
Toledo,  although  that 
town  is  on  the  Tagus, 
,not  the  Ebro 

Echevin,  sheriff,  munici* 
,pal  magistrate 

Eclaircissement^  ezplana* 
tion 

Ecosse,  en  avant,  Scotland, 
(step)  forward 

Ehrenhold,  German  for 
"  herald  " 

Ein  wort,  ein  mann,  a  man 
of  his  word 

Embrun,  our  Lady  of,  a 
figure  of  the  Virgin 
much  worshiped  by 
Louis  XI.,  preserved  in 
a  church  ,at  Embrun,  in 
Dauphine  (modern  dept. 
Hautes  Alpes) 

Enfansperdus,  the  forlorn 
hope 

Ephemerides,  an  astro- 
nomical almanac 

Escalier  derobe,  private 
,  staircase 

Etang,  pond,  lake 

Ethnic,  pagan 

Etiam  in  cubiculo,  even  in 
the  bedchamber 

Euphuist,  Sir  Piercie  Shaf- 
ton  in  The  Monastery 

Fabliau^  fable,  moral  tale 

Fabtionnaire,  sentry 

Fdhnlein,  troop 

Faire  des  nocet.  The 
Paris  innkeeper's  notice 
runs  salle  a  faire  des 
noces,  "  a  hall  for  wed- 
ding festivities  " 

Faitour,  traitor,  rascal 

Faste,  ostentation 

Feciales,  or  fesiales,  » 
college  of  priests  who 
watched  over  the  sanc- 
tity of  treaties 

Ferme  omie^  a  model  farm 

Fier  comme  un  Ecossais, 
proud  as  a  Scotchman 

Ftnis — I  should  have  said, 
etc.  (p.  831),  Fhiis,  I 
should  have  said  the 
pope  (finis),  is  the  end  of 
the  work  (book) 

Fleur-de-lys,  lilies,  the 
royal  arms  of  France 

Florentine  (p.  822),  Dante, 
in  Inferno,  iii.  9 

Florio.  The  ItaUan-Eng- 
Ush  dictionary  of  Jok« 


GLOSSARY 


449 


riorio,  entitled  A  World 
of  Words  (1598),  is  doubt- 
less what  is  alluded  to 
(p,  xxii) 

Fossa  cumfurca,  the  right 
of  life  and  death  exer- 
cised by  a  feudal  noble 
over  his  dependants—of 
hanging  the  males  and 
drowning  the  females 

Fourriers  and  Harbin- 
gers, both  officers  whose 
duty  it  was  to  procure 
and  make  all  arrange- 
ments for  the  lodgings 
of  people  of  high  rank  ; 
fourrier,  avant-courier, 
messenger  sent  on  in  ad- 
vance 

Frampold,  unruly,  peev- 
ish 

Free  Companies,  mercen- 
ary troops  owning  no 
master  except  their  own 
captains,  who  sold  their 
services  to  whomsoever 
paid  them  best 

Fremit,  strangers ;  cold, 
indifferent 

Gabelle,  tax  on  salt 

Garce,  a  young  girl,  now 
a  dishonorable  appella- 
tion 

Gargon  perruquier^  hair- 
dresser 

Gauntois  and  Liegeois, 
people  of  Ghent  (or 
Gand)  and  Liege 

Gear,  business,  affair, 
thing  owned ;  gear,  let 
tts  to  this,  set  we  about 
the  matter  in  hand 

Geb  (up),  give  (up) 

Geister- seers,  or  geister- 
seher,  seer  of  ghosts 

Gens  de  lettres,  etc.  (p. 
xxii),  literary  men, 
whom  you  call  Sir  Scott, 
I  believe 

Oentilldtre,  country 
squire,  poor  gentleman 

Ghaist,  ghost 

Gottfried,  Godfrey 

Grande  cMre,  good  living 

(^and  Seignior,  the  sultan 
of  the  Ottoman  Turks 

Gr^ve,  our  Lady  of.  In 
the  Place  de  Gr6ve, 
Paris,  criminals  were 
executed 

Gross  stemendeuter, 
clever  interpreters  of 
the  stars 

Guilder,  a  Dutch  florin  — 
l8.8d. 

Guildry,  a  guild,  the  mem- 
bers of  a  guild 

Guinguette,  a  place  of  re- 
freshment, tea-garden, 
outside  Paris 

Out  getroffen^  well  hit 


Hagel  and  sturmwetter, 
hail  and  stormy  weath- 
er I  a  German  oath 

Hanap,  a  large  drinking- 
cup 

Handsel,  earnest-money 

Hanguisse,  an  Angus,  an 
old  name  for  the  Scot- 
tish country  of  Forfar 

Hauptmann,  captain, 
leader 

Haut-de-chausses  a  canon, 
knee  -  breeches  orna- 
mented with  canons  or 
indented  ornamental 
rolls 

Hermetical  philosophy,  a 
system  ascribed  to 
Hermes  Trismegistus, 
i.e.  the  god  Thoth,  the 
traditional  author  of 
Egyptian  culture 

Herzog,  duke 

Hochheim,  a  celebrated 
Rhenish  vintage 

Hopital  des  fous,  lunatic 
asylum 

Hors  de  page,  finished 
serving  one's  appren- 
ticeship as  a  page 

Hotel  de  ville,  town-hall 

Hyke  a  Talbot,  a  hunter's 
cry  to  his  dog,  occurs  in 
Dame  Berners,  Boke  of 
Hawking  and  Hunting 
(1486) 

Impayable,  excellent 
Inamorato,  lover 
In  commendam^  in  trust, 
along  with 

Jabot,  frill 

Jacques  Bonhomme,  equi- 
valent to  our  Hodge,  a 
generic  name  for  the 
French  peasant 

Jaiza,  or  Jaice,  formerly 
the  capital  of  Bosnia, 
was  captured  after  a 
long  siege  by  Matthias 
Corvinus  in  1463,  and 
vainly  stormed  during 
three  days  by  the  sultan, 
Mahomet  II.,  in  1464 

Janus  Pannonius,  or  Jean 
de  Cisnige,  Hungarian 
poet  of  the  15th  century 

Jardin  Anglois,  an  Eng- 
lish garden,  the  charac- 
teristic of  which,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  a  stiff, 
regularly-  arranged 
French  garden,  is  the 
appearance  of  untram- 
meled  nature  it  exhibits 

Jazeran,  or  jaseran,  a 
flexible  shirt  of  linked 
mail 

Jean  quipleure.  Weeping 
John ;  Jean  qui  rit, 
Laughing  John 


Jerry-come-tumble,  aero* 
bat  tumbler 

Jeshurun,  the  chosen  of 
Israel.  See  Deut.  xxxii. 
15 

Johannisberg,  the  most 
valuable  of  the  Rhenish 
wines 

Jour  maigre,  fast  day 

Joyous  science,  brethren 
of,  minstrels 

Jus  emphyteusis,  the  law 
whereby  one  person  ac- 
quires a  perpetual  right 
to  the  use  of  land  that 
belongs  to  another  per- 


Kaisar,  or  kaiser,  emperor 

King  of  Castile,  probably 
Philip  III.  of  Spain, 
whose  death  was  caused 
partly  through  his  sit- 
ting too  near  to  a  bra- 
zier, and  the  punctilious 
etiquette  of  his  attend- 
ants in  refusing  to  move 
it  until  the  proper  func- 
tionary came 

Klepper,  hack,  nag 

Knight  without  fear  and 
reproach.  Chevalier 
Bayard  (1476-1524) 

Kurschenschaft,  intended 
for  Kiirschnerschaft,  the 
trade  association  of  the 
furriers  and  skinners 
{compare  p.  254)  ;  but 
this  Deing  an  unusual 
compound,  perhaps -Bwr- 
schenschaft,  corpora- 
tion association,  was  in- 
tended 

La  guerre  est  ma  patrie, 
etc.  (p.  ix).  The  battle- 
field IS  my  fatherland ; 
my  armor  my  home  ;  my 
life  a  perpetual  warfare 

Landes,  low  flat  deserts  of 
loose  sand  bordering  on 
the  Bay  of  Biscay,  in  the 
south  of  France 

Lanzknechts,  or  lane 
knechte,  also  lands- 
knechte,  mercenary  foot- 
soldiers,  armed  with 
pikes  and  swords,  first 
organized  by  the  Em- 
peror Maximilian  I.  in 
1487 

Lapis  offensionis,  etc.  (p. 
185),  a  stone  of  offence 
and  a  stumbling-block 

Largesse,  a  present,  the 
heralds'  cry  when  soli- 
citing gratuities  after 
the  performance  of  some 
public  function 

Leaguer,  a  permanent 
fortified     camp ;      LU 


450 


WAVERLET  NOVELS 


Leaguer^  take  up  per- 
manent quarters 

**  Leave  alt  hope  behind,''^ 
from  Dante's  Inferno^ 
iii.  9 

Legion  of  saints,  or  The- 
ban  legion,  were  all  mas- 
sacred in  the  persecu- 
tion of  the  Emperor 
Maximin,  about  the  year 
286 

Liard,  small  French  coin, 
current  after  the  14th 
century  =  l-3d  silver 
penny  English 

Linea  vitce,  in  palmistry, 
the  line  of  life,  the  prin- 
cipal on  the  hand 

Lire,  should  doubtless  be 
litre  =■  a  little  less  than 
a  quart 

Loches,  on  the  Indre,  some 
25  miles  southeast  of 
Tours 

Loom,  article,  headpiece 

Loon,  fellow 

Loretto,  on  the  Adriatic 
coast  of  Italy,  15  miles 
from  Ancona,  where  is 

E reserved  the  reputed 
ouse  in  which  the  Vir- 
gin Mary  lived  at  Nazar- 
eth—a celebrated  shrine 

Lower  circle  s,  or  prov- 
inces in  Lower  (North) 
Gtermany,  the  principal 
of  which  were  West- 
phalia and  Saxony 

Lticio,  in  Shakespeare's 
Measure  for  Measure, 
Act  v.  sc.  1 

Lurdane,  blockhead 

Lmsthaus,  country  villa 

Macaronic  Latin,  a  mod- 
ern language  used  with 
Latin  inflections  and 
construction 

Machiavel,  or  Machiavelli, 
Niccolo  di  Bernardo  dei, 
a  Florentine  statesman 
of  the  16th  century,  who 
taught  that  rulers  may 
commit  every  treacher- 
ous and  unlawful  act  in 
the  interests  of  strong 
government 

Mahomefs  cojffin,  accord- 
ing to  Mohammedan  tra- 
dition, is  suspended  in 
mid  -  air  between  two 
magnets 

Mahound,  a  contemptu- 
ous name  given  to  a 
devil  meant  to  represent 
Mahomet,  in  the  medise- 
val  mystery-plays 

JIaigre,  thin,  applied  to 
soup  made  without  meat 

iiaitre  de  cuisine,  head 
cook;  Tnattre  d^hdtel^ 
steward 


Malvolio.  See  Shake- 
speare's Twelfth  Night, 
Act  ii.  sc.  6        ^ 

Mar6chau88ee^  police 
horse-patrol 

Marmoutier,  the  abbey  of^ 
in  the  environs  of  Tours, 
founded  by  St.  Martin  of 
Tours  (4th  century),  and 
one  of  the  most  influen- 
tial and  powerful  in 
France  in  the  Middle 
Ages 

Ma telot,  or  matelote,  a 
rich  fish  stew  with  wine 
sauce,  flavored  with 
onions  and  herbs 

Meikle,  much 

Mein,  my  ;  mein  Gott,  my 
God  1  meinherr,  sir 

Meister  (^sop),  master,  a 
title  of  honor  given  by 
Germans  to  an  approved 
master  in  his  art  or 
craft 

Mell,  to  interfere,  meddle 

Melpomene,  in  ancient 
Greek  mythology,  the 
Must  of  Tragedy 

Melusina,  in  old  French 
folklore  was  every  Sat- 
urday transformed  from 
a  woman  into  a  serpent 
from  the  waist  down- 
wards 

Metairie,  farmhouse 

MievM  vault  bon  repas  que 
bel  habit,  a  good  meal  is 
better  than  a  fine  coat 

Miladi  Lac,  The  Lady  of 
the  Lake,  Scott's  poem 

Minstrel,  the  (p.  49),  or 
Blind  Harry,  author  of 
a  long  doem  descriptive 
of  the  exploits  of  Wal- 
lace (about  1460) 

Minting,  aiming 

Moliere''  s  comedy, 
L^ Amour  Medecin.  See 
Act  i.  sc.  1,  the  persons 
being,  however,  a  dealer 
in  tapestry  and  a  gold- 
smith 

More  meo,  in  my  own  way 

Morgaine  la  Fee,  pupil  of 
Merlin  the  Magician,  and 
half-sister  of  King  Ar- 
thur 

Mumble,  to  chew  gently 
with  the  gums 

Murcian  bull,  one  bred  in 
Murcia,  a  province  in  the 
southeast  of  Spain 

Musion,  the  wildcat,  term 
of  heraldry 

Ne  moliaris  amico,  etc. 
(p.  187),  Devise  not  evil 
against  thy  neighbor, 
seeing  he  dwelleth  se- 
curely by  thee 

Nam  de  guerre^  nickname 


Nostradamus,  or  Michel 
de  Notredaine,  famous 
French  astrologer  (16tU 
century) 


OrajpTO  nobis,  pray  for  ua 
—a  religious  supplica- 
tion 

Ordonnance^  companies 
of,  independent  corn- 
pan  i  e  s,  not  enrolled 
among  the  ordinary  reg- 
iments 

Oriana.  See  Amadis  and 
Oriana 

Orlando^  the  Italian  form 
of  Roland 

Par  amours,  by  illicit  love, 
in  matters  of  love 

Pasques-Dieu,  the  favorite 
oath  of  Louis  XI. 

Pasquier,  Etienne,  a 
French  magistrate  and 
historian  (1529-1615),  who 
wrote  Lettres  (1723)  and 
other  works 

Pdt4  de  Perigord,  pasties 
of  partridges  with  truf- 
fles 

Paulus  Jovius,  or  Paolo 
Criovio,  an  Italian  his- 
torian of  the  16th  cent- 
ury, lived  at  the  Pope's 
court,  and  wrote, 
amongst  other  works, 
Elogia  Doctorum  Viro' 
mm  (Venice,  1546) 

Pauvres  revenants,  poof 
ghosts 

Paysage,  landscape 

Paysanne,  country  girl 

Penseroso,  sadness,  mel 
ancholy.  Compare  Mil- 
ton's it  Penseroso 

Pereat  improbus,  etc.,  (p. 
187),  Let  the  wicked  per- 
ish. Amen  I  and  let  nim 
be  anathema 

Pere  pale,  divided  verti- 
cally 

Peter  Schlemihl,  the  hero 
of  a  tale  by  the  German 
poet,  Adelbert  von  Cha- 
misso  (1781-1838) 

Petite  pointe  d'ail,  slight 
flavor  of  garlic 

Petit  plat,  little  dish 

Pigault  le  B^-un,  Charles 
A.  G.  Pigault  de  I'Epi- 
noy,  known  as  Pigault- 
Lebrun,  a  popular 
French  novelist  (1753- 
1835) 

Pilleur,  plunderer 

Pirn,  the  bobbin  of  a  spin- 
ning-wheel ;  ill-winded 
pirns  to  ravel  out,  knotty 
difficulties  to  solve  or 
adjust 

Pistol  eating  the  leek.    Set 


GLOSSABT 


451 


Shakespeare's  Henry  F., 
Act  V.  sc.  1 
Plack,  an  old  Scotch  cop- 

ger  coin— l-3d  penny 
Inglish 

pleached,  with  branches 
interwoven 

Plexitium,  a  chase,  wood- 
lands inclosed  for  game 

Polk,  or  pulk,  a  squadron, 
troop  of  Cossacks 

Poortith,  poverty 

Post  tot  promissa,  after  so 
many  promises 

Potage,  (formerly)  vege- 
tables ;  potager,  kitchen 
garden 

Potence,  gallows 

Potz  tausend,  the  deuce 

Pour  passer  le  temps^  to 
pass  away  the  time 

Pow,  head 

Prevenance,  kind  atten- 
tion, obliging  kindness 

Priigel,  cudgel,  stick 

Public  Good,  war  of,  grew 
out  of  a  league  formed 
by  the  great  feudatory 
princes  of  France  against 
Louis  XI 

Pucelle,  virgin 

Qui  vivet  Who  goes  there? 

Regale,  treat,  entertain- 
ment 

Rheims.  See  Smeared  with 
oil,  etc 

Rheinwein,  Rhenish  wine 

Rhinegrave,  the  title  of 
the  feudal  lord  of  the 
gau  or  county  of  the 
Rhine 

Rifacimento,  restoration, 
repairing 

Rochet,  or  rocket,  a  short 
cloak,  worn  formerly  by 
both  men  and  women ; 
in  Pasquier's  passage 
the  original  French  sig- 
nifies "  petticoat."  Com- 
pare p.  438 

Roman  Comique,  player 
in,  a  famous  novel  (1651- 
57),  by  Paul  Scarron 

Romaunt,  a  poetical  ro- 
mance of  chivalry 

Rouse,  a  bumper 

Routier,  an  experienced 
man ;  vieux  routier^  an 
old  stager 

Rubempr^,  Bastard  of. 
See  Bastard  of  Rubem- 
pr6 

Runlet,  a  barrel  (of  spirits) 
holding  18^  gallons 

8^^.  Bartholomew,  was 
flayed  alive 

St.  Denis,  4  miles  north  of 
Paris ;  the  abbey -church 
tberewas  long  the  buri- 


al-place of  the  sover- 
eigns of  France 

St.  Francises  cord,  the 
founder  of  the  monastic 
order  of  Franciscans, 
dressed  in  a  coarse  wool- 
en tunic,  girt  about  with 
a  hempen  cord 

St.  Gatien,  the  cathedral 
of  Tours 

St.  John  {Jean)  d''Angely, 
about  16  miles  south- 
east from  La  Rochelle, 
Jean  Favre,  abbot  of  St. 
Jean  d'Ang61y  was  pop- 
ularly believed  to  have 
poisoned  (1472),  at  Louis 
XI. 's  instigation,  that 
king's  brother,  Charles 
Duke  of  Berri  and  of 
Guyenne 

St.  Jude,  28th  October 

St.  Lambert,  patron  saint 
of  Liege 

St.  Lamberfs,  the  old  ca- 
thedral of  Liege,  demol- 
ished by  the  French 
Revolutionists  in  1794, 
and  altogether  removed 
in  1808 

St.  Martin,  bishop  of 
Tours,  died  just  before 
the  year  400 

St.  Patibulariiis,  derived 
from  l,a,tin  patibulum,  a 
fork-shaped  gibbet 

St.  Perpetuus,  third  suc- 
cessor of  St.  Martin  of 
Tours,  erected  over  that 
b  i  s  h  o  p's  bones  the 
church  of  St.  Martin's 
consecrated  in  472 

St.  Tron,  more  correctly 
St.  Trond,  about  20  miles 
northwest  of  Liege 

Saints,  legion  of.  See 
Legion  of  saints 

Saker,  a  small  gun  for- 
merly used  in  sieges 

Sancte  Huberte,  etc.,  (p. 
152),  St.  Hubert,  St.  Ju- 
lian, St.  Martin,  St.  Rosa- 
lia, all  ye  saints  who  hear 
me,  pray  for  me  a  sinner 

Sancte  Juliane,  etc.  (p. 
144),  Holy  Julian,  listen 
to  our  prayers.  Pray— 
pray  for  us 

Sanglier,  wild  boar 

Santon,  a  Mohammedan 
prophet  or  saint 

Saumur,  good  fathers  of, 
belonging  to  the  ancient 
abbey  of  St.  Laurent  in 
Saumur,  which  dates 
back  to  the  11th  century 

Saus  and  braus,  revelry 
in  good  things.  In  Saus 
und  Braus  leben=to  live 
at  heck  and  manger 

Schakos,  or  shako,  a  mili- 
tary  head-dress,  a  tall 


cylindrical  hat,  with  a 
shield  in  the  front  of  it 

Scheik  Ebn  Hali,  or  Ali 
ben  Aben-Ragel,  an  Arab 
astrologer  of  the  lltb 
century 

Schelm,  rogue,  scoundrel 

Schneiders,  or  Snyders, 
Frans,  Flemish  painteS 
(1579-1657) 

S  chop  pen,  meant  tot 
schoffen,  aldermen, 
municipal  magistrates. 
Schoppen  means  pint* 
measures 

Schwarzbier,  black  beer 

Schwarzreiters,  or  Sch' 
warzreiter,  black  horse 
men,  black  troopers 

Scotched  (snake),  slightly 
wounded 

Sero  venientibus  ossa,  th6 
bones  are  for  late  comers 

Sheerly,  thoroughly,  quite 

Shenstone,  William,  Eng- 
lish poet  and  landscape- 
gardener.  The  hne 
"  Seek  for  freedom  at  an 
inn,"  etc.  (p.  432),  is 
adapted  from  verses 
headed  Written  at  an 
Inn  at  Henley 

Shool,  shovel 

"  Showing  the  code,''''  etc. 
(p.  xxxi),  altered  from 
As  You  Like  It,  Act  iv. 
sc.  8 

Sigillum  confessionis,  the 
seal  of  confession 

Si  non  payatis,  etc.  (p. 
187),  If  you  do  not  pay, 
I  will  burn  your  monas- 
tery 

Skaith,  hurt,  harm 

Smeared  with  oil  (p.  853). 
The  coronation  of  the 
French  kings  usually 
took  place  at  Rheims 

Smock-faced,  effeminate- 
looking,  pale-faced 

Snapped,  snatched  up, 
stolen 

Souter,  cobbler 

Spreagh,  cattle  carried  oflf 
in  a  raiding  expedition 

Stakt-house,  or  stadthaus^ 
the  town-house,  town- 
hall 

Statist,  politician,  states- 
man 

Stave  and  tail,  to  strike 
the  bear  with  a  staff, 
and  pull  off  the  dogs  by 
the  tail,  to  separate  them 

Stoup,  a  flagon,  deep  nar- 
row  vessel  for  holding 
liquids 

Straick,  a  measure  of  ca- 
pacity =two  bushels ; 
the  quantity  of  malt 
generally  used  for  one 
Brewing 


Aba 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Bully  MaxtmUien  de  Be- 
thune,  Duke  of,,  author 
of  Memoires  des  Sages  et 
Boyales  Economies  d^Es- 
tat  de  Henri  le  Grand 
(1684-62) 

Syndic,  a  magistrate,  ad- 
ministrative oflScer 

Tabati^re,  snuflE-box 

Tabouret,  stool 

Tarn  Marte  quam  Mer- 
curio,  as  distinguished 
for  arms  as  for  diplo- 
macy 

TasTcer,  laborer 

Tauridor,  buU-flghter 

Tender,  to  cherish,  value, 
esteem 

Termagund,  or  Ter  ma- 
gaunt,  an  Oriental  devil 
introduced  into  the 
m  e  d  i  ae  V  a  1     mystery- 

glays.      Compare      Ma- 
ound 
Teste    St.-Gris,    probably 

meant  for  "  By  the  head 

of  Christ " 
Tite-Bleau,  or   TSte-bleu, 

Tete-Dieu,  God's  head— 

an  oath 
Teufel,  the  devil 
Thebais,  deserts  of  An  the 

neighborhood  of  Thebes 

on  the  Nile 
^The  smaU  rare  volume^ 


etc.  (p.  xxxix),  from 
Dr.  John  Ferriar's  Bib- 
liomania, an  Epistle  to 
Richard  Heber,  Esq. 
(1809) 

Tiffany,  a  kind  of  thin  silk, 
gauze 

Tocque,  a  small  bonnet  or 
low  cap  with  narrow 
brim 

To-name^  nickname,  hono- 
rary descriptive  title 

Triers,  or  Trier,  Treves,  in 
the  Palatinate 

Troupe  doree^  choice  com- 
pany, 6lite 

Trudchen,  an  affectionate 
diminutive  of  Gertrude 

Two  and  a  plack,  two 
Scotch  pennies  and  a 
plack=l-2d  English 

Un  homme  comme  it  fa  ut 
a  perfect  gentleman 

Vaconeldiablo,  doubtless 
for  Baco  el  Diablo,  Bac- 
chus (wine)  the  Devil 

Fee  victis,  woe  to  the  van- 
quished 

Varium  et  mutabile,  fickle 
and  changeable  (are 
women) 

Ventre  St.  Oris,  an  oath, 
presumed  to  be  translat- 


able as  **fche  body  of  St 
Christ "  J'       «* 

Vieux  routier.  See  Routief 

Vin  ordinaire,  the  wine  is 
common  use 

Vive  Bourgogne,  long  live 
Burgundy  I 

Volee,  flight 

Vota  diis  exaudita  malig' 
nis,  vows  listened  to  by 
unfriendly-disposed  de- 
ities 

Wallace  Wight,  Wallace 
the  strong— a  favorite 
designation  of  Scot* 
land's  great  hero 

Walloons.  /See  Black  Wal- 
loons 

Was  henker,  what  henker^ 
what  the  deuce  I 

Weinkeller,  wine-cellar 

Wenceslau^,  was  emperor 
of  Germany  from  1378  to 
1400.  The  reigning  em- 
peror at  the  time  of  this 
romance  was  Frederick 
IV.  (1440-93) 

Whillywhawing,  talking 
in  an  intimate  way  like 
lovers 

Yungfrau,  or  jungfrau^ 
maiden,  young  woman 

Zuchthau»t  prison 


INDEX 


*  Ah  I  County  Guy,  the  hour  is  nigh," 

40 

•Ah  I  Freedom  is  a  noble  thing,"  265 
Anachronisms,  429,  445 
Archers,  Scottish,  42 ;  quarrels  of,  72, 

436  ;  banquet  of,  74 
Ardennes,  Boar  of.    See  Marck,  William 

de  la 
Amot,  Scottish  Archers,  77 
Astrologer.    See  Galeotti 
Author,  his  Introduction,  xiii 

BalaprS,  Le,  23,  43 ;  interview  with  his 
nephew,  44  ;  contrasts  Charles  of  Bur- 
gundy with  Louis  XI.,  49  ;  astonished 
at  his  nephew's  fortune,  111 ;  ques- 
tioned by  Louis  XL,  302 ;  refuses  to 
kill  Galeotti,  331 ;  his  honest  stupidity, 
363  ;  carrying  La  Marck's  head,  427  ; 
resigns  his  claims  to  Quentin,  430 

Balue,  Cardinal,  83  ;  sent  after  CrSve- 
coeur,  36,  97,  his  horsemanship,  102, 
437 ;  intrigues  with  CrSvecceur,  105 ; 
dines  with  Louis  XL,  119 ;  his  punish- 
ment, 328,  441 

**  Better  kind  f  remit,"  etc.,  55,  434 

Bishop,  Sir  H.  R.,  40,  434 

Blok,  Nikkei,  340,  246;  kills  the  bishop, 
251 

Bohemian,  Bohemians.  See  Hayraddin, 
Marthon,  Zamet,  and  Gipsies 

Bonhomme,  Jacques,  70 

Boots,  anecdote  of,  355,  443 

Brantome,  quoted,  441 

Burgundy,  Duke  of.  See  Charles  the 
Bold 

Campo-basso,  847 
Card-playing,  91,  436 
Cent  Nouvelles  Nouvelles,  4,  433 
Chaplain,  Bishop  of  Liege's,  221 
Charlemagne,  Louis  XI.  and,  113,  437 
Charles  the  Bold,  meetings  with  Louis 
XL,    293,    440 ;    rough    reception    of 
Cominesand  D'Hymbercourt,  314  ;  his 
violent  temper,  316, 345  ;  holds  a  grand 
council,  373  ;  reception  of  the  herald, 
885 ;  thwarted  by  Isabelle,  404  ;  offers 
her  as  a  prize  of  war,  405 ;  before 
Liege,  413 
Charles  the  Simple,  murder  of,  324 
Charles,  sent  back  with  letters,  210 ;  de- 

Uvers  them,  302 
Chivalry,  time  of  Louis  XL,  v,  vii,  2 


Cologne,  Three  Kings  of,  197 
Ck>iniiies,  Philip  des,  meets  Crdvecceur, 


286  ;  account  of,  287,  440,  448 ;  brings 
disagreeable  news,  314 ;  interview 
with  Louis  XL,  349 ;  anecdote  of 
Booted  Head,  354,  443 

"  County  Guy,"  song,  40 

Covin  tree,  23,  433 

Crawford,  Lord,  71 ;  at  the  banquet,  75  j 
arrests  Orleans  and  Dunois,  169  ;  pre- 
pares to  defend  Louis  XL,  317  ;  inter- 
view with  Quentin,  363  ;  recognizes  La 
Marck's  head,  427 

Crdvecoeur,  Count  of,  91  ;  defies  Louis 
XI.,  95;  intrigues  with  Balue,  105; 
dines  with  Louis,  119  ;  meets  Quentin 
and  Isabelle,  271 ;  questions  Quentin, 
275  ;  his  vow  of  vengeance,  277 ;  con- 
versation with  Des  Comines  and 
D'Hymbercourt,  286  ;  announces  the 
tidings  from  Liege,  315;  conducts 
Louis  XI.  to  the  tower,  322  ;  opposes 
Quentin's  meeting  with  Isabelle,  367 

Crevecoeur,  Countess  of,  404 

Croye,  Lady  Hameline,  127 ;  question? 
Quentin,  158;  her  note  to  him,  225; 
escape  from  Schonwaldt,  229  ;  letter 
to  Isabelle,  410 

Croye,  Lady  Isabelle,  at  the  inn,  81 ; 
song  of  "  County  Guy,"  40  ;  reason  of 
her  journey,  69  ;  demanded  by  CrSve. 
coeur,  94 ;  in  the  gallery,  126 ;  atten- 
tions from  Orleans,  131 ;  Louis  XI's 
conspiracy  against  her,  141 ;  journeys 
to  Liege,  157 ;  dresses  Quentin's 
wound,  173 ;  her  trust  in  him,  203 ; 
rescued  by  him,  237  ;  sheltered  in 
Pavillion's  house,  256  ;  thanks  Trud- 
Chen,  262  ;  flight  from  Liege,  263  ;  falls 
in  with  Crevecoeur,  271 ;  interview 
with  Quentin,  367  ;  before  the  grand 
council,  376  ;  refuses  to  wed  Orleans, 
404 ;  offered  as  a  prize  of  war,  405, 
444  ;  gets  her  aunt's  letter,  409 ;  sends 
intelligence  to  Quentin,  411 

Cunningham,  Scottish  Archer,  63,  70, 75 

Dain,  Oliver,  84, 436  ;  summons  Quentin, 
110 ;  in  consultation  with  Louis,  XL, 
136,  304  ;  makes  friends  for  him,  362 

Dibdin,  Dr.,  at  Chateau  de  Hautlieu, 

XXX 

Dorothy,  Aunt,  marriage  of,  xvi 
Douglas,  Earl  of,  murder  of,  117,  437 
Dunois,  Count  of,  82;  rei)orts  Crev* 
coeur' s  arrival,  89 ;  assails  Quentin, 
165 ;    taken    into  custody,    169 ;   hhl 
courage  before  Liege,  4S» 


453 


454 


WAVEULEY  NOVELS 


Durward,  Quentin,  8 ;  arrives  at  the 
Cher,  10  ;  converses  with  Louis  XI., 
13,  22  ;  at  breakfast,  27  ;  first  gUmpse 
of  Isabelle,  31 ;  questions  the  host,  37; 
hears  the  lute,  40  ;  interview  with  Le 
Balafr6,  44  ;  reflections,  53 ;  inquires 
for  Maitre  Pierre,  56  ;  cuts  down  the 
Bohemian,  58 ;  condemned  to  death, 
60  ;  rescued,  64 ;  enrolled  in  tlie  Scot- 
tish Archers,  73 ;  in  the  presence- 
chamber,  81 ;  apology  from  Tristan, 
85  ;  rescues  Louis  XI.,  107  ;  summoned 
before  him,  110  ;  in  Roland's  Gallery, 
113 ;  made  sentinel,  118,  124  ;  sees  Isa- 
belle, 126 ;  allows  Orleans  to  pass,  130  ; 
reprimanded,  134 ;  interview  with 
Galeotti,  148 ;  escorts  the  Ladies  of 
Croye,  157;  attacked  by  Dunois  and 
Orleans,  165  ;  his  wound  dressed  by 
Isabelle,  173;  questions  Hayraddin, 
176 ;  discovers  his  treachery,  189  ;  has 
his  fortune  told,  204;  pays  Hayraddin, 
211  ;  bidden  leave  the  garden,  214 ; 
scene  with  the  people  of  Liege,  215, 
439 ;  receives  Lady  Hameline's  note, 
225 ;  roused  by  Hayraddin,  128  ;  res- 
cues Lady  Hameline,  329  ;  returns  for 
Isabelle,  235  ;  saves  Pavilion,  236  ;  finds 
Isabelle,  237 ;  seizes  Carl  Eberson, 
252;  sheltered  in  Pavilion's  house, 
256 ;  flight  from  Liege,  263 ;  falls  in 
with  Crevecoeur,  271  ;  questioned  by 
him,  275 ;  his  descent  ridiculed,  281  ; 
his  report  to  Lord  Crawford,  363  ;  in- 
terview with  Isabelle,  367  ;  before  the 
Burgundian  council,  379  ;  at  Hayrad- 
din's  execution,  398  ;  secures  Klepper, 
899  ;  gives  Isabelle  the  note,  409  ;  re- 
ports La  Marck's  stratagem,  415  ;  on 
outpost  duty,  418  ;  seeks  to  encounter 
La  Marck,  424  ;  saves  Trudchen,  426 

Eberson,  Carl,  249  ;  seized  by  Quentin 

251 
Europe,  time  of  Louis  XL,  vi 
Evil,  principle  of,  in  literature,  v 

Fenelon,  his  description  of  Louis  XI., 

X 

Feme,  Blazon  of  Gentrie,  quoted,  449 
Feudal  superior,  rights  of,  xii 
Fleur  de  Lys,  inn,  25  ;  host  of,  87 
France,  style  of  living  in,  xv ;  time  of 
Louis  XL,  1 

Galeotti,  Mart ius,  interview  with  Louis 

XI.,  148, 437 ;  despises  his  reward,  154 ; 

summoned  before  him,  336 ;  predicts 

his  death,  341,  442 
Gascon,  the,  157,  165 
Geislaer,  Peterkin,  239 
Gipsies,  threaten  Quentin,  58 ;  attacked 

by  soldiers,  59 ;  in  France,  59,  434 ; 

religion  of,  178,  441 
Glorieux,  Le,  290 ;  description  of,  812 ; 

jests  on  Louis,  825 ;  fetches  Galeotti, 

886 
Glover  Hans,  268,378 
Goethe,  Faust,  v 
Golden  Fleece,  order  of,  92,  486 
Gregory,  Dr.,  486 
Oueldres,  Duke  of,  80, 483 


Guthrie,  Scottish  Archer,  70,  76 

Haflinghem,  passage  of  arms  at,  160 
Hautlieu,  Marquis  of,  xvii ;  his  chateau, 
xix ;  on  English  literature,  xiv  ;  on 
Suj-y's  chateau,  XXV  ;  Author's  dinner 
with,  xxviii ;  his  library,  xxx 
Hayradin  Maugrabin,  175 ;  questioned 
by  Quentin,  176 ;    his  tricks  on  the 
monks,  183  ;  his  plot,  190  ;  tells  Quen- 
tin's  fortune,  204  ;  claims  his  hire,  211; 
awakens  Quentin,  228  ;  disguised  as  a 
herald,  384  ;  chased  by  dogs,  390  ;  his 
execution,  395 ;  imparts  a  secret  to 
Quentin,  398 
Herald,    disguised,  ix,  443.     See   also 

Hayraddin  Maugrabin 
Hughes,  Itinerary  of  Provence,  xxv,  433 
Hymbercourt,  Baron  d',  286, 439  ;  brings 
disagreeable  news,  314 

Introduction,  Author's  v,  xiii 

Jacqueline.    See  Croye,  Isabelle  de 
Joan,  princess,  her  marriage  with  Or- 
leans, 83,  88,  101.  437 ;  description  of, 
87  ;  in  Roland's  Gallery,  125 

Klepper,  Hayraddin's  pony,  203,  899 

La  Jeunesse,  Marquis  de  Hautlieu's 
factotum,  xxvii 

Lanzknecht,  190 

Leslies,  feud  with  the  Ogilvies,  45  ;  de- 
scent of,  429,  445 

Lesly,  Ludovic.    See  Balafr6,  Le 

Liege,  people  of  185  ;  town,  214  ;  scene 
in,  215  ;  siege  of,  413,  444 

Liege,  Bishop  of,  208  ;  murder  of,  251 

Lindesay,  Scottish  Archer,  69,  76 

Loches,  Castle  of,  171 

Louis  XL,  character  of,  xi,  2 ;  watches 
Quentin's  approach,  10  ;  his  personal 
appearance,  12 ;  converses  with  Quen- 
tm,  13.  22  ;  gives  him  a  breakfast,  27 ; 
waited  on  by  Countess  Isabelle,  31 ; 
holds  court,  86 ;  reception  of  Creve- 
coeur, 91  ;  sends  Balue  after  him,  96  ; 
teases  Balue,  100 ;  policy  regarding 
Princess  Joan,  101,  437 ;  at  the  boar- 
hunt,  106  ;  rescued  by  Quentin,  107  ; 
and    Charlemagne,   113,   437 ;    posts 

8uentin  as  sentinel,  118 ;  entertains 
rdvecceur  and  Balue,  119 ;  his  hu- 
mor, 121,  437  ;  reprimands  Quentin, 
134 ;  in  consultation  with  Oliver  le 
Dain,  136,  304 ;  his  superstition,  143, 
442 ;  interview  with  Galeotti,  148  ; 
meets  Charles  at  Peronne,  293;  his 
suspicious  character,  297,  440  ;  his 
lodging  at  P6ronne,  299  ;  inquires 
about  Quentin,  301  ;  methods  of  cor- 
ruption, 309 ;  at  the  banquet,  317  ; 
put  in  the  tower,  822,  440  ;  reflections 
on  Charles  the  Simple's  end,  327 ; 
prayer  to  the  Lady  of  C16ry,  828,  441  j 
sounds  Le  Balafr6,  830  ;  condemns 
Galeotti  to  death,  821 ;  his  love  of  ven- 

freance,  338,  441  ;  interview  with  Ga- 
eotti,  887 ;  conversation  with  Com« 
ines,  849 ;  his  speech  before  the  Bur> 


INDEX 


466 


rundian  council,  374 ;   before  Liege, 
415 

Madelon,  of  Chateau  Hautlieu,  xxi 

Marck,  William  de  la,  245  ;  causes  the 
bishop  to  be  killed,  351 ;  his  bride,  410, 
444  ;  in  battle,  424  ;  death  of,  427 

Margaret,  Princess  of  Scotland,  436 

Marthon,  the  Bohemian,  231 

Mephistopheles,  v 

Mercenary  troops,  2,  190,  270,  439 

Montrh6ry,  288,  440 

Morrison,  Fynes,  quoted,  439 

Ogilvies,  feud  with  the  Leslies,  45 
Oliver  le  Dain.    See  Dain,  Oliver  le 
Oriflamme,  French  national  flag,  76 
Orleans,  Duke  of,  82  ;  relations  to  Prin- 
cess  Joan,  83,  88,  101 ;  fear  of  Louis 
XL,  88  ;  enters  Roland's  Gallery,  101  ; 
attempts  to  carry  off  Isabelle,   165  ; 
taken  into  custody,  169  ;  proposed  al- 
liance with  Isabelle,  402 

Fa  VILLON,  the  syndic,  «15  ;  rescued  by 
Quentin,  236  ;  takes  Isabelle  under  his 
protection,  241  ;  his  lament  to  Geis- 
laer,  255  ;  shelters  Isabelle  and  Quen- 
tin, 255  ;  gives  money  to  Quentin.  260 

Pavilion,  Mabel,  256 ;  lectures  Trud- 
chen,  263 

Pavilion,  Trudchen,  219 ;  thanked  by 
Isabelle,  262  ;  saved  by  Quentin,  426 

P6ronne,  286,  439  ;  Earl  Herbert's 
Tower,  322 

Petit  Andr6,  the  humorous  hangman, 
61  ;  acts  as  guide,  162  ;  prepares  for 
Galeottl,  334  ;  hangs  Hayraddin,  395  ; 
note  on,  436 

Picturesque,  Price  on,  xx,  433 

Pierre,  Maitre.    See  Louis  XL 

Plessis-16s-Tours,  Castle  of,  8, 19 

Printing,  invention  of,  150,  4SK 

Prior,  Franciscan  184 


Prize  of  honor,  407,  444 

Quentin  Durward,  the  novel,  v 

RizPAH.    See  Marthon 

Rouge  Sanglier.    See  Hayraddin 

Rouslaer,  of  Liege,  216 

St.  Hubert,  16,  433 

St.  Paul,  Constable,  31,  434 

St.  Quentin,  31 

Schonwalt,  Castle  of,  207  ;  garden,  213 ; 
assault  on,  228,  234  ;  revel  in,  245 

Schwarzreiters.  270,  439 

Scottish  Archers.  See  Archers,  Scot- 
tish 

Scottish  auxiliaries,  in  France,  74,  436. 
See  also  Archers,  Scottish 

Seneschal  of  Peronne  Castle,  323 

Skene  Dhu,  58  434 

Sorel,  Agnes,  viii 

Squire  of  Lowe  Degree,  211,  438 

Stephens,  Miss,  40,  434 

Stilts,  use  of,  44,  434 

Sully,  Duke  of,  xxv 

ToisoN  d'Or,  Burgundian  herald,  95 ; 
questions  Rouge  Sanglier,  388 

Tristan  THermite,  10;  condemns  Quen- 
tin to  death,  60  ;  worsted  by  the  Scot- 
tish Archers,  67  ;  apologizes  to  Quen- 
tin, 85  ;  takes  charge  of  Dunois  and 
Orleans,  171  ;  prepares  to  execute 
Galeottl,  332  ;  the  historical  person, 
442 

Trois-Eschelles,  the  lugubrious  hang, 
man,  62  ;  at  P6ronne,  334  ;  hangs  Hay- 
raddin, 395 

Troyes,  Jean  de,  his  Chronicle,  136,  49t 

Trudchen.    See  Pavilion,  Trudchen 

Wetzweileb,  Tiel.    See  Glorieux,  Le 
Zambt  Madobabik.  66 


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